The cliff falls away across crumbling rocks in front of my feet and I have reached the end of the track. The voice I hear behind me is drawing nearer and there isn’t a path left to escape. His hand reaches for my clothes and I tear them free as I debate my options, the certain death of the shattered rocks in front of me or the clawing hands behind me. His voice sharp in my head, my hand grabbing his shirt, my foot steps onto the thin air and we are falling. The ground meets us halfway.
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