Invisible

"pitpatpitpat"

Each step he took made small splashes on top the wet cobblestone, imitating the drizzle just two hours before. He made each stride small, yet sure, placing his foot carefully each step. His face contorted to a disgruntled look as he looked down at his noisy feet He had to be quieter. He had to be invisible. Up above the only source of light was the gibbous moon, and its scattered stars. Night brought a sense of calm to the streets of London. Everyone snuck into their houses until daybreak, not only from the lack of light but because of the newfound fear.

"pitpatpitpat"

He cursed his feet, for making such loud din. He had to be invisible. He had to be invisible. The nights of London had many shady figures lurking, hugging each corner and slipping through each alleyway. They would find him. There was no comradery between these shrouds. And he was one of them. Albeit, a simple messenger, but he was a messenger of the night. Dressed in the darkest fabrics, from his breeches to his messenger hat to cover his dusty face. His jacket was buttoned as tightly as he held his small bag, holding the precious notes he carried. Then he swore he saw something. His heart leapt, and his eyes darted around, as fear began to grip his spine. His pace began to match his pounding heart.

"pitterpatterpitterpatter"

He wanted to scream at his feet. He wanted to shout for giving him away. He wasn't invisible. He wasn't invisible. Not anymore. Not ever. There were shadows twisting in the moonlight beside him. They had found him. They had found him.

"pitterterpatterterpitterterpatterter"
Then he stumbled once, and then twice. His feet betrayed him for the last time. In the night, he saw the glisten of silver against the silver moon, as in flashed down into him. he collapsed, hands outstretched, reaching for his infernal feet. And then all was still. Except for the slow, rhythmic drips of crimson onto the damp cobblestone roads.

"pitpatpitpat"