I was running. They were following. It had been like this for some time, and I could feel myself getting more and more exhausted. I was not going to last like this for much longer, not with a broken leg and a dagger wound to the middle. I still did not know why I was still going. Logic and Science would have both confirmed that this was past my time, so why was I alive?
I returned my attention to the present, it was a lot harder than it normally was, but then the mind tends to wander when teetering on the brink of death. Branches whipped past at abnormal speeds, tearing open thin cuts on my face and legs. Behind me, shots were being fired; they had given up on tying to take me alive.
I probably should tell you why I was being chased. If I were to tell you the whole story, it would take weeks for you to read. For the moment, let this suffice: I am not human. If I were to tell you what I am, you would not believe me, even if you did, it would be catastrophic for both our races.
Finally, my leg gives out. I can actually hear the bones crunch and grind as I am brought down. I hear shouts behind me, and they run faster, hoping to catch me before I can escape again. But, I can't. I am too weak, and every fiber of my being screams out in pain. My very identity is blotted out by the white-hot agony.
As they come up, it is almost a relief to be shot. The sedatives deposited in my veins provide comfort and ease the pain as they spread through my body. The world is a blur, and then nothing, absolutely nothing.
Sorry this is so short. It was just something I wrote when I needed inspiration, and therfore, does not have a complete plotline yet.