Run.

If it was possible for lungs to scream, he was sure that his own would be screaming so loud that hell would hear them. His legs were two lead blocks, growing heavier and heavier against his will. He knew he should have taken more gym classes in high school, he just knew it. If he'd done that, he would have already been to safety instead of only two steps ahead of the psychopath behind him.

"That's right! Keep running my friend! Just keep running!" Cackling erupted out of the darkness, coming from every direction. His head swivelled around, trying to find the actual source; it wasn't possible that the laughter was coming from every direction, was it? That wasn't the point. He was surrounded by skeletons, frameworks of houses that were devoid of life. The empty, gaping holes where the lighted windows should have been leered at him, mocking his hopeless efforts to escape the inevitable. His bare feet slapped the pavement, leaving behind drops of blood as he pushed forward through the pain. Pebbles embedded themselves into his skin but he still ran.

Had it really been only two hours before that he'd been going for a simple walk along the river? He'd been bundled up in his thick trench coat, head pointed towards the ground, hands buried deep in his pockets. The night had already been dark and dead leaves had crunched beneath his feet. The part of town he'd chosen to walk was usually considered safe, somewhere that you didn't have to worry about your children getting abducted. Between this assumption and the fact that his mind was filled with racing thoughts, he paid no attention to his surroundings. When the oak tree he walked by creaked, he didn't think anything of it. It was just another night time noise interrupting his thoughts.

The weight had soundlessly descended on his back, silently slamming his face into the gravel walkway. He was aware of the stone grinding into his face for only a moment and then his nostrils were filled with a stinging smell, wafting directly into his brain. The world dropped away and his mind floated through a world of dark nothingness.

When he awoke, he was plunged into his worst nightmare. His neck was being wrenched back to its very limit, the tendons straining. Warm, vile breath washed over his skin, so close to the blood flowing underneath. There was something tied around his eyes, leaving him in darkness even though his eyes were open.

"We're going to play a little game." The voice was low and almost silky, caressing the tiny hairs on the back of his neck. It was distinctively male but it didn't sound like anyone from modern times. No one he knew could deliver their words so smoothly, with such precision.

"A game?" he managed to whisper, feeling a set of chapped lips brush against his neck.

"Yes, a game. There is a field at the end of this boulevard. If you can reach that field in time, I'll let you live. If not..." Sharp fingernails trailed up his chest, tearing through his shirt effortlessly. It was only then that he realized his coat had vanished, leaving his arms bare.

"You die." As soon as the words were spoken, he was pushed forward, landing on his chest. The blindfold was ripped off of his eyes and he pushed himself up from the ground, swinging his head around. There was no sign of his captor anywhere, not even a footprint. He spun around in a quick circle, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The moon was high in the sky, casting her pale light onto the Earth. He was surrounded by houses, stretching out into the distance as far as the eye could see. Not one of them was lit up; they were just dark husks of homes. The ground where the green grass should have been growing was torn apart, marred by tire tracks. He took a tentative step forward and only then realized that his shoes had disappeared.

"I'd advise you to run." The voice surrounded him from all four directions and he whipped his head around again, trying to find the source. Laughter erupted from the darkness but it seemed to switch its location when he turned his head.

"Run!"

He ran. He ran as fast as he could down the loose hardtop, toes slipping as he struggled to find traction. The laughter continued and he forced himself forward, hoping to escape the mocking noise. The road seemed to extend on and on into infinity, a hopeless venture. It was impossible to tell if he was making any progress, because every single house looked the exact same. Every house had a torn up yard and a massive picture window and he was on a giant treadmill, staying in the exact same spot. He'd hated the conformity of suburbia before but he swore that, if he made it out alive, he would never live in a housing development of any kind. His arms prickled with goose bumps and one of his toenails cracked as he stubbed it off of a rock.

"You've only got a bit of time!" Panting, he pushed himself even harder, lungs burning. He couldn’t help but think about how his situation would have been different if he had gone to the gym every night instead of plunking down in front of his television with a bag of chips. Would he already be at the field? Would he have even been captured in the first place? He damned his weakness and pushed onward, taking deep breaths instead of quick, shallow ones.

When he raised his head, a slow grin spread across his red face, reaching all the way to his eyes. Ahead, he could see his salvation. The field swayed back and forth in the gentle wind, as if beckoning him to come closer, to grasp it in his fingers. It was inviting him to come frolic in it. He pushed himself even harder, his weak knees threatening to buckle underneath him.

Sudden, excruciating pain shot from his heel through his spinal cord, sending him tumbling to the ground. Biting back his screams, he rolled onto his back, looking at his foot that was howling in pure agony. There was a shard of glass nearly an inch in length protruding from his skin, glinting in the moonlight. Blood slowly dripped from the wound, staining the pavement.

"Are you really going to stop now?" He lay on the pavement and tilted his head back, screaming into the darkness. That laugh was echoing in his ears, humiliating him as he lay like a dead fish on the ground. The field was so close, only a hundred meters away and yet, he was about to die. So close to salvation and he was about to be murdered by something that wasn't entirely human.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't just lay back and let himself be slaughtered. Bending in half, he grasped the shard of glass and pulled, ripping it from his flesh. His blood was now positively gushing onto the ground but he stood up and limped as fast as he could, dragging his injured foot behind him. With every step, the field got closer, almost within his grasp. Ninety, eighty, seventy meters separated him from the rest of his life. Only ten meters away, the voice rang out again, coming from even in front of him.

"Time's up!" He could hear air rushing towards him, as if a great bird was soaring through the sky, ready to snatch him up. Tears ran down his face, mixing in with snot and blood from cuts he didn't know he had. In one final attempt, he leaped forward, fingers clutching madly in front of him. Wind rushed over his head, ruffling his hair. His back was raked with pain as talons scraped his skin, preparing to grasp hold of his body.

His fingertips grasped a stalk of wheat and the pain was immediately gone. The air filled with the most horrendous sound he had ever heard; the dying scream of an animal not of this world. He crawled into the field and slammed his hands over his ears, unaware that he too was screaming. When the world had gone silent once again, he slowly removed his hands and looked up into the sky, covered in blood and tears and dirt but alive.

High above, a shadow that was too quick to be a cloud passed over the moon.