Gene quickened his pace. All the way from the pub, he had felt the presence of someone following him. He daren't look around, you read all sorts of things in the newspapers, God only knew who, or what, was behind him.
He was nearly home now anyway, another five minutes and he would be safely tucked up behind closed doors. Away from harm. He never usually walked home alone, but he was feeling a bit under the weather today, so had set off before the others. Truth be told, they were annoying him a bit with their curmudgeonly ways.
The figure behind him, spoke. More a mumble than actual words. He walked faster still. Murders and muggings and whatnot often happened right on the victims doorstep. He had watched CrimeStoppers enough times.
There was the noise again, almost sounded like panting. Was his predator even human at all? Speeding up a little more, his mind was working as fast as his tired legs. Maybe it was a werewolf or some such creature? Nobody liked to admit they were real, but that didn't necesarily mean that they weren't did it? He'd lived long enough to realise that man wasn't always as wise as he would like to believe.
"Wait." came the voice. He could make out the words now, the stalker was gaining on him.
"Wait." came the voice again. Clearer this time. "Jeez old man, wait up!"
Old man? The cheek of it. He was home, now, dashing up the garden path, slamming the gate behind him. Fumbling in his pocket for his key, he heard the footsteps. Spinning around, he came face to face with his attacker. A young girl or boy, he couldn't quite make it out. They all dressed alike these days. Hood pulled up, hair in their eyes, baggy jeans. His heart raced as he searched for his key.
"You don't half walk fast. I've been following you from the dog and Duck!" the offender said, trying to catch their breath.
So brassy, and obvious about it.
"I'll call the police! You lay one finger on me...."
"What?" the hooded person laughed, pulling down the hood revealing long blonde hair. A girl.
"I mean it. One finger and I'll be dialling 999 faster than ....."
"I've got your wallet!" the girl shouted incredulously, "You thought I was going to mug you or something?" she laughed loudly, handong over the wallet.
"Wh...What?" Gene thought maybe it was a trick, like those bogus Gasmen he had read about. "Why should I believe you? Who are you?"
"It's Heather," she replied with a smile, "You know Alf's grandaughter?"
Realisation hit Gene, he recognised those blue eyes. Little Heather.
"I was just on my way home from work and I saw you coming outta the pub, you dropped your wallet. I tried shouting after you, but you're so damned fast!"
Overwhelmed with guilt, for the assumption he had so quickly jumped to, he invited her in for some hot cocoa.