Oh look! Sophie actually published something.
Dedicated to Cendi.
Run. Run. Run. Run. Oh god run.
Why isn't the voice helping? It brought me this far, the least it could do is get rid of the monster, or tell me how to do it, send down some kind of weapon.
Hello? Voice? ANY HELP FOR SOMEONE WHO'S ABOUT TO DIE?
No reply.
No weapons falling from the sky.
No great tactics on how to kill a seven foot beast with your bare hands.
My only option is to run, and I don't know how long I can keep going.
Goddamnit, legs, move faster. But they won't, because there's only a certain amount of energy left in me and damnit I've been running for so long.
All I want to do is stop. The pain in my chest is getting too much. The pain in my legs is searing. I can feel fire roaring up them every step I take, and I can't take much anymore, because soon they're going to give way and leave me at the mercy of that… thing.
I don't know what it is, but I know for sure it wants to eat me up, to rip me to pieces and devour me chunk by chunk.
The thought brings vomit to my mouth, but I fight the urge to puke down because I can't afford to waste anymore time lagging whilst I puke my guts up. I know the price would be my life.
All I saw before I figured it would be best I ran for my life was a pair of horns and huge, bull like head. That was enough to send me flying.
I run that thought through my mind over and over and over again and I'm pretty sure that's the only thing keeping me running.
That and the roaring of the monster behind me, telling me it's getting nearer and nearer.
I can hear trees toppling over behind me, being thrown out of the monster's path.
Nothing seems to be keeping it from its snack.
I don't know how long it will keep me going because oh god the pain.
My breaths are coming in ragged now, and I can barely suck in any air.
I don't remember falling to the floor. I don't remember why I was running.
I only know that the burning in my chest, the tingling in my fingers and toes means I'm having an asthma attack. A bad one.
Breath, breath, breath. But my body refuses to, like it would prefer to starve of oxygen instead.
My hand reaches for my asthma pump.
I get one squirt into my mouth and that's it.
Empty.
Tears of frustration well up in my eyes, escape, and roll down my scraped up face.
Boom.
I can see it in front of me from where I'm hunched over trying to breath. It's ready to charge.
Oh god oh god oh god I'm going to die.
The hill, get to the hill and past the tree and you'll be safe.
It's the voice.
I can see the hill with the tree. It's twenty meters away.
Hah.
I'm barely breathing, barely able to claw at the ground.
But I try. I try so damn hard to get away.
When it gets to me, no, I don't see my life flash before my eyes.
I do feel agony, blinding agony as it rips me from limb to limb.
I let loose a blood curdling scream because oh god the pain is unimaginable.
Oh god please make it sto-
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