Jack ran as fast as he could, not thinking about a destination just knowing that he had to get away. He didn’t care about the pain radiating from his chest as his lungs begged him to stop, or his twisted ankle threatening to give out at any second. His eyes were starting to blur as the strain continued to take its toll, he wasn’t sure how long he had been running just that he couldn’t stop. Jack stumbled on a gravestone as he looked back and saw the glint of metal coming after him, his knees gave way and he just missed bashing his head on another grave marker. Jack felt as though a boulder had forced his ribs to cave in, his stomach began pushing bile up his throat, panic started to set in and he could no longer find the breath necessary to keep going. Jack raised up far enough to sit on his knees then began retching uncontrollably, the vomit burning his tongue and the world started to spin. The sound of crashing footsteps forced Jack’s eyes back into focus, he dragged his body forward and behind a weeping angel statue. Tears began falling down his face, he refused to look back, too terrified to see the truth that was coming upon him, death wrapped in a murderous six-foot package.
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