[color=ff0000][u][b]Koto[/b][/u][/color]

He stumbles yet again before picking himself and running [i]faster[/i].

Every dead tree in this god-forsaken excuse for a woods bears a face twisted in anger. The light bends as the twilit dusk threatens to leave him blind, and the sound of his pursuer never fades. Step by step, the sounds of twigs snapping never ends, never speeds up, as if they were walking towards him. Still yet, it only grows louder and louder, but every time he looks back, all he sees is an empty woods. He runs endlessly, already out of breath for a while now, but he can't stop. Stopping would mean certain death, or worse. The sounds of its approach suddenly speeds up, little by little. His terrified running becomes a desperate sprint, ignoring the pain in his chest that results. Even so, the sounds of its impossibly fast approach grow ever louder, deafening, and then continues to grow. He can't look back now, or he's sure he'll be caught. Even when pushing himself to run so fast, the sound of the footsteps feel like they're right behind him. They stay there for a moment, and then he feels a warm breath clearly on the nape of his neck, making his hairs stand on end. That's when he falls, tripping yet again, but unable to pick himself up and continue, light-headed and gasping for air. The sound is gone. The sun has almost completely set. The feeling of being watched never escapes him, but he has this moment at least, to breathe. A few seconds later, out of the corner of his vision, a flash of red darts behind a tree, accompanied by the sound of muffled indistinct whispers. He stands up, wincing at the pain of his overexertion and the sound of a slow pursuit picks up again. Not from the flash of red, but [i]from directly behind him[/i]. Despite the sharp, ripping pain in his chest, he gets up and starts running yet again. Everything plays on repeat, but the exhaustion is twice as great for him. The whispers join the footsteps in a collective crescendo, becoming so loud as to hurt his ears. His feet become numb from smashing the ground so fervently. He had heard rumors of the inhumanity of his assassin, a visceral monster straight out of lovecraftian nightmares, so stained in blood that it's all his victims see. Even so, he never imagined they would be this [i]inhuman[/i].

Nonetheless, running is just what it wants. Clearly it can't be escaped, so it's just weakening him before going in for the kill... and it's been working.

As the whispers start giving him headaches and the sound of footsteps are right behind him again, he twirls around, only for all to stop, dead silent. Not even the wind can be heard. He looks around anxiously, scanning a full 360 degrees around him, but finds nothing but dead trees.

That's when a searing pain cuts through the nape of his neck.

He falls to the ground and turns around. He looks at it- he looks at [i][color=FF0000]you[/color][/i], but all he sees is an anatomically impossible smile. You bring the knife down on one of his arms and step on the other, pushing all your weight down on it. He struggles against your foot before you pull out another knife and push it through his wrist, pinning it as deep as you can into the ground.

You pull out a gun and use it to shoot his ankles, leaving him completely and totally at your mercy. Now comes the fun part. You retrieve your tool box and cooler from your buggy nearby and begin getting to work. After all, it's a pretty big waste to just cut into some of the more [i]valuable[/i] parts. You begin humming a mellow tune as the sound of screams fill these deadened woods.

The perfectly relaxing evening.