City Streets

Tedrils of fog curl themselves around the city buildings. The streets are enveloped in a thick white blanket. The few working streetlights do little to dispel the darkness.
Out of the fog comes a young man. He walks slowly, not really going anywhere. He has heard of the recent murders, but he is not afraid. That was something that happened to someone else.
As he walks under a streetlight, it flickers and goes out. The others on the street are already out. In the darkness, he hears footsteps. He keeps walking.
Behind him, another man walks faster. He is out for a specific purpose tonight. Something special. He reaches into the pocket of his trench coat, feeling the blade there. The special, familiar knife.
The younger man senses the other coming up behind him. He tells himself not to overreact. He ignores the footsteps coming up on him. Until he is shoved roughly into an alley. He sees the blade in the other's hand.
"Are you going to kill me?" He asks calmly. The older man is taken aback.
"Yes…"
"That may prove difficult." He pulls out a small pocketknife he had, blade extended. He pushes it deep into the other man's chest, between two ribs, and twists.
In the shock and pain, he drops the six inch knife. It clatters loudly to the pavement. He sinks to his knees, blood flooding into his lung, flooding from his body onto the pavement. The younger man pulls the pocket blade out, wiping the blood off it.
"I can't die." Nny says softly, and walks back into the fog.