After pain, after blood… what's left?
Apparently, cardio.
****
Andrew ran.
Correction: Andrew sprinted like a man possessed—if the possessing spirit had zero patience, a horrible sense of direction, and asthma. The Howling Ones(Nightwalkers) were behind him, their shrieks high-pitched enough to sterilize rats and rattle the fillings out of his molars.
He didn't look back. Because only idiots in horror stories looked back. And what was he?
…Fine. Maybe a little bit of an idiot.
But not that kind.
His boots slammed against cracked stone and muddy graveyard earth as he bolted past the statue of some long-dead martyr with a broken nose and a smug smile. Somewhere behind him, the fog split with clawed limbs and guttural shrieks that screamed: "YOU MESSED UP."
"System," he panted, dodging a toppled gravestone shaped like a heart. "Any tips?"
[System Alert: You are being pursued by 'The Howling Ones.']
[Advice: Increase speed or reduce existential weight.]
