Predator and prey. The chase, the resistance, but who's doing what? Bushes rustle as one tries to get away from… themselves, or the other? Sweat, trickling down a forehead, fear in their eyes. Close behind, a similar emotion in their eyes, another follows closely. Control, so sought after, left mauled and torn, a tattered flag of guilt, getting smaller and smaller as bloody bandits ride off toward the sunset of lust, pleasure, and everflowing…

Blood.

Predator and prey, one catching up to the other. The gloves come off and the fangs come out, blood is shed, and a life isn't taken, but disqualified, only to be held off from the game for an eternity. Held away from everything they loved. Shamed, by the referees, by the angels of life.

Forever.

Predator and prey, almost one.