• A sudden clatter of dustbins startled George, he flinched and looked around wildly. George didn't think of himself as a paranoid person, more of a person who is constantly aware of his surroundings. His eyes darted to the toppled bin, the rubbish which was earlier contained in the bin was now cluttering the darkened patch of pavement. George began to walk down the pavement, orbs of orange light beamed down every several metres, with patches of darkness between each of them. His footsteps echoed slightly as he made his way down the sparsely populated street, howls of cold wind made George shiver. He thought he probably should have got his coat. It wasn't the warmest of nights. George was very intrigued and had been figuring out an enigma which had been puzzling him for quite a while. Several people had reported a tall, cloaked figure which had been walking the streets every Wednesday. No one really knew who he or she was, or why they were walking the streets at night. But it wasn't normal, it wasn't right. The police didn't seem to care, but George did.

    As he turned the corner at Matthew Street, he heard crazed muttering from down the street. The street was unlit due to vandalism the previous week. The council were aware of it but it didn't seem to be worth their time. George had to get closer, he tread as lightly as he could, it was almost pitch black. He could almost make out a person, just a few metres ahead. The person was still muttering incoherent speech, babbling in their own world of insanity. Then George could hear the maniac utter.

    "Someone's here"

    The cloaked figure turned quickly, the cloak fluttered in the air as it moved around. George was terrified. He immediately turned and ran, the figure swooped after him with, snarling with the joy of the hunt. Running onto Thomson Grove George sprinted as far as he could. With the eerie and crazed figure in tow. George turned in at Abbey Street, trying to lose this mysterious yet horrible person. Making a split second decision, George turns left down the dark sidestreet. As he ran, trying to get away he sees a concrete wall come into view. He knows he's going to have to turn back. Spinning around on the spot, he tries to get out. It's too late, the figure blocks the way out, George begins to back away as his fate is sealed. The figure clutches a knife in his hand

    "It's feeding time"