It felt too cold to be a Spring night.
Huffing out a chilled breath, and leaving frost patterns on the window of an inviting-looking cafe, Limey carried on through the city’s quiet streets. She wasn’t used to a city being so still, even out in these backwater streets. It was like it was holding it’s breath, watching, waiting, for something to break this stillness.
It was like it was watching her.
Her head flicked around, alert.
Had she heard footsteps behind her? Someone shifting on the rooftop, an eye at the window? No, now she was feeling paranoid.
But she had heard footsteps. And now she smelled something wrong with this alleyway. Too sweet, yet too….metallic.
Her shoulders prickled as she spoke out/wheezed, “Who’s there?”