The ground exploded behind her as she ran. Dust fell like snow, chunks embedding themselves in her hair. The temptation to look back over her shoulder over came her and she risked a glance. Losing her footing she tumbled to the ground, rolling and once again leaping to her feet. She ran, blood-curdling screams chasing her as she fled. Flashes of grey passed her, the cleavers had arrived. Drawing their scythes, they leapt into battle. She couldn't look. She had once sent one of their brothers to their death, another to eternal enslavement, and now they fought on the same side. Just ahead of her a man stood. Black sunglasses drawn over the place his eyes would have been. His brown suit was flecked in dirt and stones.
An arrow whistled past her ear and she looked back to see two black-clad figures hot on her heels. More arrows came her way as she leapt to her hands, perfecting a handspring before using the momentum to accomplish a full twist, (mid-air, of course). Someone grabbed her arm, pulling her against a muscular body. Tilting her head back she realized it was the man in the suit, grinning down at her. From her position she could see his not so savoury teeth. He seemed to know what she was thinking as he chuckled as they sank into the ground.