It threatens to split your chest apart. Pounding wildly, unrelenting in its ever-adjusting rhythm.
You can barely contain your heart in your chest as your eyes dart in all directions, trying to find an out. Just when you think you’ve lost him, he claws his way into the margins of your vision, and it induces another surge of adrenaline to course through your body. At this point in the chase, you’re convinced that your blood has been fully replaced with electricity. Even at your best you still are not half as sharp and agile as you are right now, running away from this beast.
Really, it’s a miracle you’ve made it this far.
However, your body’s timer is almost up. Yet 2099 shows no signs of yielding. Intently he hunts you, as if he could be doing this all day.
You turn another corner, you slip into another gap, you try to lose yourself amongst the skyscrapers, praying that for once he won’t anticipate your moves. How can you best him if you can barely string your thoughts together? You aren’t in any position to strategize the best way to lose him, and as your body begins to give out, he just gains on you further.
Fangs protruding, claws unsheathed, eyes glowing red. Though he usually kept his face occulted by his mask, you couldn’t help but guess – in a sheer moment where you could consider anything that wasn’t your endangered life – that this was personal for him.
That he wanted you to see his fury, that he needed to make sure that the last thing you would ever see were those ire-colored irises.
