Flash Fiction for ozxnn.
ozxnn started following you
I knew it as soon as I saw that nearly monochromatic photography blog. His username was "ozxnn". Pfft. Like I didn't know what that stood for.
Like I didn't remember.
Shock held me in place in front of my laptop, but panic drove my thoughts and eventually my hand wandered up to trace the large raised scar on my arm.
I remembered.
The skin there was numb, the nerves destroyed. I clenched my hand into a fist. He was alive.
He found me. They found me.
Suddenly, I broke my stillness and reached to put on my shoes. I would trace the IP address later-- it would probably lead to a dead end anyway.
My closet didn't have much in it, but the few articles of clothing that were there were bland-- the kind of clothes someone who goes unnoticed wears.
Urban camouflage.
I slid a t-shirt over my head. I was already wearing my sturdiest pair of jeans. I reached up to the top shelf, and searched until my fingers found a small gun safe.
Inside wasn't a gun. Instead, nestled on the foam was a knife, made of sleek obsidian stone. Even in the dim of the closet, it shone dangerously.
I strapped it to the harness I wore, making sure it was covered completely by the fabric.
I headed towards the door, but not before I took one last look at that nearly colorless blog.
"This ends today."
