You decide to turn and run before the monster comes after you. In the background you hear the shrill girly screams as well as the sounds of stretching and tearing cotton most likely coming from the man you left to his horrid fate. You don't stop and continue going until you make it outside.
The air is chilly and you feel the wind go up your hospital gown. You thick thighs and bubbly cheeks quiver in the cold air as you look around. Cars are pilled up against the street, buildings have their windows smashed in, lines and lines of cotton are strewn across the concrete in a array of colorful confetti. The word "wedgie zombie" echoes in your head, was it the right decision to leave that guy to be wedgied by that horrifying man? Should you have helped? Could you of helped?
Your thoughts rattle around like a pinball in your head, your confusion great and your senses dulled until a a sharp step crunches against the ground behind you.
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