Bloodied Hands

The group prowled along the pavement,hoods up, eyes downcast.They were laughing about forgotten times, rejecting the present, living the past. The familiar darkness of dusk was shrouding the streets below, unaware of the untimely death that was about to transpire. Issac, a tall fearsome albino boy, was sulking at the back of the pack, he flicked his knife open, cutting lines in the air with a dogged expression. He began to move forward, as he picked up his feet and jogged to the front. He couldn't believe that the moment had come.....