FicWad

The monster noticed Alvin coming after him, and abandoned the now-twisted streetlight in favour of barreling down the street. Lights flickered on in houses when it passed, people anxiously pressing themselves against the glass to catch a glimpse of God-Knew-What as it ran past.
Alvin, however, was inhaling and exhaling heavily as he ran, his broken nose not doing him any favours when it came to breathing. Behind him, Sherlock Holmes was steadily gaining.
Alvin darted down an alley, wrapping his hands around a gas pipe to shimmy upwards to the top of the building. It was simple work, and allowed him enough space to look down upon the street below him, which was recognizable as Soap street, a part of Scab’s End that stank of lye due to the cheap soap makers that crowded either side of the street. The monster seemed hell-bent on going straightforwards, which would lead him past Baker Street to Juillard Avenue. Juillard would take it directly downtown, which would lead to absolute havoc.
“Damn, bother, and blast,” muttered Alvin.
However, due to either good luck on the part of the youngest surviving Freck or ferociously terrible luck on behalf of the behemoth, a bus rounded the corner onto Soap street. The creature’s head smacked against the windshield, massive arms thrown up against the top of the bus almost comically. The bus then stopped, halfway on top of the creature, which seemed merely dazed.

Alvin crept closer to the edge of the building as Sherlock dashed up to the bus, ready to apprehend the trapped monster and calm the driver.
There was a groan from the creature under the bus, and it slowly pulled its arms in, fitting its palms under the bus’ bumper. With another groan, the creature pushed upwards. Over the creak of the metal, Alvin could hear the terrified screaming of the passengers. When the bus was lifted far enough off the ground, the creature simply wormed out from underneath it, shoulders scraping up cobblestones as it moved outwards.
Alvin judged the distance between himself and the bus, and began taking quick steps backwards. He heard the bus drop back to the ground with a bang, followed by the scream of denting metal as the monster began to climb over the bus instead of going around.
The youngest Freck dashed forwards, jumping at the edge of the building.

The fall was only seconds, but seemed to suck the air from his lungs all the same. He landed much harder than he anticipated, broken nose going from painful to agonizing. Alvin gasped in pain, eyes watering, as he fumbled over the roof of the bus, feeling for an emergency hatch. The uneven beat of footfalls was lurching away down the street. Where the hell was the emergency hatch?
Finally finding it, Alvin pulled the door upwards and jumped into the bus.
“No need to panic, everybody!” said Alvin, feeling blood pool from his nose.
“What happened to your face?” asked somebody.
“Where did you come from?” asked another.
“It’s raining crazy people in Rotterfeldt tonight. On that note,” Alvin pivoted towards the driver. “May I borrow your bus?”

_______________________________

Sherlock Holmes was undisputedly surprised when the dented bus pulled up beside him. Holmes had been chasing the monster and had come up through an alleyway when the bus finally came up to him.
“Need a lift?” asked the boy, who was leaning out the window. He was surrounded by slightly shell-shocked passengers and blood was beginning to dry under his nose. The bus was probably the best option, however, and Holmes hopped aboard.
“You shouldn’t be out like that,” said Sherlock, gesturing to Alvin’s nose.
“I’m no fool, Holmes. Why else would I take the transit?”