To think that this is how I'm meant to die. Running until I'm out of breath, and then being munched on by a bear. To think that I will never see my family again. To think that they were all going to meet terrible ends in a few minutes. To think that I was going to meet one any second.

I almost break down each time I think of their reactions if my nemesis doesn't come for them. Verne's tough; he'd probably be able to cover up his grief for a couple of days. The porcupine children will break down instantly, thus causing Lou and Penny to as well. Hammy wouldn't be able to live with himself; nobody would ever see a smile on his face again. Tiger and Stella will be in grief until the baby is born, of course. Their baby will bring joy back into their hearts. Ozzie would faint from the emotional trauma, and Heather, I can't even imagine Heather's reaction.

I continue to run, no matter how tired I get. I can't let this happen, I think. That's when I realize: Vincent has to die. If I let him kill me, he'll kill them, but knowing how sadistic he is, he'll force me to watch him kill the others, and leave the slowest, most painful death for me.

I stop running and start throwing sticks, pebbles, and basically every possible to throw item nearby. He stops and begins to slash at me with his sharp claws. I somehow manage to dodge his attacks, until I see him hit the ground, with a knife lodged in his eyeball.

I begin to observe the body. He's still alive, but thanks to whoever just saved me, blind in one eye. I turn around and notice a human standing behind me, staring as if in anticipation of what's to come. Shit. Just another problem I have to contend with.