Rattle rattle rattle shake.
Locked.
Rattle rattle rattle shake.
Locked.
Still that whistle kept on, only now she blew to the best of Nora Jones.
The hollow sound echoing done those long narrow paths.
"Kick your shoes off don't you fear, bring that bottle over here cause ill be your baby tonight." Her voice broke through and as the sound broke off the high stone walls. She wasn't a talented singer by any means, no applause deserved, but in this world who cared, it was a voice none the less, even if it was her own it brought a comfort to ring along with the pit patter of arsenal rain.
Rattle rattle rattle shake.
Locked.
The beads of rain drizzled down the deep bends and curves of her face, slithered down the plains of the leather jacket, and pooled at the sole of her combat boots.
Rattle rattle.... "What the fuck was that?"
We heard a scattering, then a voice, more than one voice. With her hand still on the handle she let eyes scan that long and dark alley. No animals, no people. With brows furrowed she pushed a ear the the door she tried to open, listening.
There it was again.
The door was obviously locked but the window right to the right was already smashed, small chunks of glass scattered, glistening in that black rain.
With a hump over the sill, those damn boots crunched at the sand made glass.
One slow step after another, lips no longer giving music to the air of doom and gloom, both hands holding tight to the baseball bat that was propped over her shoulders, deep brown eyes framed by thick black water dripping lashed peered out the wide open door, she could see the standing and shadow made Der - but where was that second voice coming from.
Yes Avie, one slow step after the other, one sight on the figure, the other sight searching for the second.
Watching, seeking.
Watching, seeking.
She approached the frame of the back door, standing silently, waiting.