The audible thuds of boots clapping against the ground in extreme speed didn't stop. They hammered against the dirt like a wild drum, cutting through the night's silence with ruthless precision. Dust kicked into the air, dancing in faint beams of moonlight that struggled to pierce the haze.
The momentum was alarming, sharp and fluid it almost seemed as though light itself was racing across the ground.
Then, all at once, the sound halted.
The figure stopped, breath ragged, shoulders trembling. Melissa's figure emerged from the mist. Her chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm. Sweat dripped from her forehead, mingling with streaks of blood that ran down her chin and ankles. Her entire body quivered.
"Damn it…" she muttered under her breath. "I could've died back there."
Her voice cracked, broken by exhaustion. "He could've killed me. Was that really him?"
The silence answered her.
