The Beast (TW)

I’m running down an endless dusty road. I can hear my feet dully thudding against the ground. Louder than my footsteps is the sound of my heart, pumping for all it’s worth. How funny, I think, that my body wants so badly to survive this even though my mind has long since given up.

Why am I running? Well, society tells us to run from this beast. And somewhere , deep in my innermost being, I imagine that there’s a part of me that desires life. The beast is getting closer, I can feel it’s horrid breath down my neck. I have a stitch in my side, my legs are begging me to stop.

I can feel the cold air as I leave the familiar places behind. The beast howls insults at me, telling me how worthless I am. I glance behind for a split second, and the beast throws open his enormous mouth, trying to catch me inside of it. As I catch a whiff of the decay on his breath, I think about all of the good people he’s consumed. Many of these people, I think, trying to pull others from his clutches, have been brutally ended.

The world is hazy now, and my bodily sensations are fading to the background. The beast is familiar to me, and I wonder how long I’ll be able to fight him off. -burningRain127

Thanks for encouraging me to write, @retro0ne