Finger-like branches reached out to Tommy, snagging his clothes. They dragged thin cuts of crimson across skin as he crashed through sparse bushes. His heart thrummed wildly in his ears. The repititous pounding drowned out all but his mind's voice.

The Ragged Man is gonna get me.

Tommy glanced back over his bony shoulders, dark eyes wide. A tall, slender silhouette stood unmoving far back behind him, inky black and framed by twisted trees. The hairs on the nape of his neck rose. Goosebumps prickled across his skinny arms and legs.

The Ragged Man is gonna get me.

A cry left his lip's as he slammed face first into a tree. Stumbling backwards, he tripped over his feet and onto his butt. Tommy sat there, mouth gaping, his vision swimming in swirling and doubling splotches of dimly lit greens and browns. His head throbbed dully in tune with his thrumming heart.

The Ragged Man is gonna get me.

Tommy scarmbled up. He ran. Through more thorny bushes that eagerly snagged at skin. Past trees warped and knarled with age. Further from that silhouette. In the distance, someone called his name. His legs burned, and his breathing came out in short, fast-paced huffs.

"Tommy!"

The Ragged Man is gonna get me.

There was a stitch in Tommy's side. His head still pounded, his cuts still stung. The trees started to clear ahead. Those once distant voices were louder, closer. Warm yellow light from the street flooded into the trees, casting looming shadows.

The Ragged Man is gonna get me.

Out of a peripheral he saw a figure lurch out from behind an oak to his left. Hands reached out to grab him. Long spindly fingers clutched onto his arm tightly, sharp brittle nails dug into one of his cuts, and he was yanked to the side. Tommy screamed shrilly as he was shaken violently, his vision blurring as tears spung to his eyes.

"Quit crying you dipshit," the figure sniggered as they pushed Tommy away.

"Wuh-what?"

Tommy wiped at his wet cheeks with a shakey hand, blinking away. It was Francis Flats, smirking down at Tommy, half of his pimpled face illuminated from the pallid yellow street light.

Francis turned and hollered, "Hey Archie! You'll never believe it! The loser started crying. He actually started fucking crying! Like a baby!"

Clutching his belly, Francis howled with laughter.

"I'm n-not a b-b-baby!"

He whirled around, stomping closer to the smaller boy. Tommy flinched, an arm rising to cover his face.

Francis scoffed, "Yeah, right," before he jogged off towards the street, to where Archie was waiting for him.

Tommy sniffled and wiped at his nose as he watched Francis' hulking form disappear through the trees. He grumbled and blinked furiously.

The breeze picked up, whispering against his ears, the chilly touch caressing him. A shiver traveled down Tommy's spine, and the back of his neck prickled once more. His heart picked up it's pace and begun to pound erratically within his chest. He turned, back to the woods from which he ran from.

The Ragged Man is gonna get me.

There was no inky silhouette standing there. He shook his head.