There were a few drunken men in the train, but apart from that, it looked eerily empty. Natasha climbed aboard the train, her eyes darting everywhere as she did. As the doors closed, she slumped against it. As the train pulled out of Kings Cross station, she breathed out a long sigh. No one had followed her; she had lost him.
She sat down on one of the seats in the lower compartments of the train. Her body was still shaking from the aftermath of fear. Adrenalin was still coursing high through her veins. She took some long, deep breaths to calm herself down.
It was not that she was easily scared, but the man in the white suit had spooked her badly. She could recollect her evening quite clearly, despite the fact that she had been high most of the evening. She had been, in short, having a great time with her friends. It was at the pub, when she had been ordering drinks, that she realised she was being stared at.
Looking across, she saw a man in the white suit, sitting at one of the tables, sipping on his drink and looking straight at her. As she met his eyes, he raised his glass in toast, an evil grin spreading across his face. Natasha shuddered, as she remembered his face. A big scar marred his face from his forehead to his lower jaw. But that was not what had spooked her. It was his eyes- a glowing ruby red glint sparkled those black eyes, dripping evil all around him. People seemed to be oblivious to him sitting there.
She was about to look away and he pointed at her and—she was sure she heard him calling her name. It was a merest whisper, laced with scorn and ill-humour. She heard him say, “It is time for you to go Natasha. I am hungry.”
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