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Creative Writing: James Holland's Return

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James Holland walked swiftly down the darkened streets. Gangs and other criminals could be lurking around tonight, and he didn't want anything to do with it. Although he was taller then most, standing at six foot four, he was skinny and had very little muscle - an easy target. James had lived a life of crime before and he never wished to go back. Three years in prison was enough for him. He was now paranoid of absolutely anything that could send him back. As he got closer and closer to his home he couldn't help but feel like somebody was watching him. He glanced around, but it was too dark to see anything. James kept walking, like everything was normal, but he couldn't shake the feeling that somebody was behind him. Eventually, he turned and shouted, “Who’s there?” There was no response. He bolted. Instead of running to the front entrance to his apartment building he ran for the ally. He could reach his apartment from the fire escape, and it would be a lot easier to hide from someone if he were being followed. When he entered the alley he felt worse than before. He grabbed onto the fire ladder which led up to his window. That’s when he heard it. A soft voice glided around him. “James, accept me.”
“Who’s there? Who said
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The crow was staring right at him. “It couldn’t possibly be you that’s saying all of those things,” he said as he approached the bird. Still, the words of that creepy voice loomed in his head- accept me. James stared at the bird, eyes wide. That's when the crows eyes begin to smoke... James was taken aback. How could this be happening? The crow’s eyes were as dark as coal. It hurt James’ pale eyes just to look at them. Spreading its wings, the crow lunged at James; he screamed. What was happening? James fell backwards, his eyes now felt heavy. The last thing he saw before he past out was the crow, and the smoke, taking the shape of what looked like a
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