The Initiation. Tommy DeJosia

The orange hue of the streetlight scattered photons amongst the fog where Paulo stood with a bloody knife in his hand. His sixteen-year-old self was no longer a self but a shell of a human. Standing there alone with fear in his eyes and trembling pursed lips. Paulo's muted tongue was as dry as the arctic air, and his heart just as cold. The blood from the knife dripped carelessly onto the pavement. A small puddle developed. Paulo wandered for a moment, trance-like, transient, sneakers scraping, almost zombie…