His pursuer slowed down, understanding with a cold sense of logic that the frail human body will soon tire again. It seemed to know this chase would continue until his victim collapsed exhausted and it was aware that ultimately it would catch his victim. The only question was when.
The man raced through the streets hoping for something he knew was impossible, for some means of escape from the demonic presence that was following him. Although he knew that it was hopeless and there was no escape, he continued because his fear was so overwhelming. He wished and prayed for a miracle, someone who could rescue him, or even the hint of the warmth of another human being. However this town was abandoned, every single windows was boarded up, no light escaped from inside. Every single door was closed. Occasionally, he had tried to open the doors to the houses, but they always locked and he did not possess the strength to force them open. Anyway he knew that once he was inside a house he would be trapped, there would be nowhere left for him to run. He felt certain he would be unable to hide from it. The place was silent and empty. There were no sounds of life that one would expect to hear in a normal town, even in the middle of the night. It seemed as if no one would rescue him. He felt the only certainty was that he would die a horrific death, all alone in the dark. There was only an empty darkness, without any promise of a new dawn that might soon arrive and end this ordeal. The only light came from streetlights that were positioned at regular intervals. However not every light worked and often he was unable to see the road clearly in font of him. Others seemed to flicker as if they to would soon die. The lights shone an orange hue dimly onto the cobbled street in front of him; they seemed to possess no warmth in their light. Their only function seemed to illuminate a path that he had no choice but to follow. Even these filled him with despair as they went on further than he could see and they offered no hope of escape from his nightmare, or way out of this town. It seemed as if the road continued on forever.
Suddenly he saw a glint in his hand and felt cold metal pressed against his hand. It felt unexpectedly heavy in the palm his hand. He realised that he carrying a large dagger. He could not remember having noticed it before, but he did not allow this to concern him. Realising that he could use this as a weapon, he wondered if perhaps it was the salvation that he had been praying for. However he was uncertain if he was brave enough to face whatever it was that was following him. He continued to run through the streets, searching his mind for another alternative. For a moment he considered using the dagger to take his own life. He formed an image in his mind, picturing himself driving the dagger deep into his stomach and watching as the blood poured out of his wound covering his hands in a deep red. He imagined feeling the cold metal as it pierced his skin and the agony he would feel. Picturing his body collapsing on the stony cold ground as he gasped his last breathes of air, surrounded only by an intense feeling of coldness that increased with every passing moment. Witnessing the sight of his blood running through the cobblestones, like a red river as his consciousness faded away and everything turned to black. And then there would be the unspeakable things that the demonic beast would do to his corpse. Ripping and tearing him into millions of pieces.
He recoiled from these images in horror, deciding this was not how he wanted it all to end. There had to be other option available. He racked his brain for some other means of escape. It did not take him too long to realise that there was only one other thing that he could do. He knew he would have to use the weapon against it; he had to kill or be killed. He had to face his fear and attack whatever it was that was behind him. The thought of doing that filled him with intense fear, a fear that came from the very pit of his stomach. He summoned up all his courage to stop and turn round.
Finally he had confronted his pursuer, in front of him was a large dark and shadowy figure dressed in black. However he was unable to see clearly in the shadows. He could sense the cold and murderous intent. Frantically he repeatedly plunged the dagger deep into its face, hacking into the flesh. To his amazement there were no shrieks of pain or cries, nor was there any sign of blood. It fell to the ground in total silence, it lay on the ground, totally motionless. The man looked at this figure on the floor and felt a sense of fury build up inside him. He wanted to destroy it completely. He pulled out the dagger out of it. Now spurred on by a sense of real rage he thrust the dagger into it again and again, repeating this over and over again, using all the strength he could summon from his weary body. He felt overwhelmed by anger, so that he was not aware what he was doing. He kept dragging the dagger into it. He did this until all that remained of this hideous beast was a body lying motionless on the ground, having been torn to pieces by his dagger.
He tossed the blood stained dagger away, not wanting to carry anything that would remind him of the events that had occurred. Immediately he began once more to run away from this place, desperate to escape the scene of the violence. He did not wish to remain in the presence of whatever it was, and a part of him felt he still needed to escape whatever town he was in if he was to survive. From behind him he heard a now familiar sound. A feeling of emptiness began to fill his soul. It was hopeless. He turned to see the source of this sound, his attacker has risen to his feet and is snorting with fury. Its wounds were closing and it stood before him, fully renewed. It seemed bigger, taller, and more angry than before. A fresh sense of overwhelming panic filled his being. He felt unlike he had ever felt before, a sense of despair and terror that consumed him. He felt as if he was about to be sick. Vomit exploded from his mouth onto the cobbled streets below him. Once again he realised that there is only one answer and he began to flee, it is the only answer he has ever known. The pursuit began once again, only this time he experienced overwhelming hopelessness worse than he had ever felt before. It could not be killed or even hurt. He was hopeless and alone. He had no alternative but to continue running, for as long as possible. The only certainty was that he would be caught.
He ran through the streets for what seemed like hours. The cold surrounding gave him no comfort. He never had the courage to look over his shoulder and look at what it was that was pursuing him. However he could always hear it behind him. Sometimes he could tell it was very close and this caused him to speed up. At other times it sounded as if it was far behind him, almost inaudible over the sounds of his breathing, at these times he slowed down to get his breathe back. Once he slipped on the cobblestones, he tried to scramble to his feet as quickly as possible, not daring to look behind him. As he rose to his feet he could feel it was closer to him than it had been since their encounter. He ran towards the waterfront and saw a little wooden rowing boat, he realised this would offer an opportunity to escape this nightmare.
He climbed into the boat and began to row. He put all of his strength into each stroke. He was motivated only by the thought that he would escape this endless nightmare. Soon the land and harbour side disappeared out of his sight and he felt a sense of triumph as he realised he had finally escaped the source of his terror. His shoulders and back were exhausted from the sheer exhaustion of rowing although this made a change from running. Finally he felt unable to continue any further. He stopped rowing for just a moment to allow himself to himself to reflect on this victory and to rest his tired muscles. His clothes were soaked with his sweat and the spray from the water around him. Every part of his body ached. He was sat alone in the middle of the sea and allowed himself a brief moment of relaxation. Looking around there was nothing for him to focus his eyes upon, only an empty darkness that surrounded him. His felt an icy cold wind blowing against his wet body and he shivered in the cold, he felt colder than he had ever felt before. Looking out across the sea he could see nothing but the still tranquillity of the water. He sat motionless for a moment in the perfect silence. This moment of peace was shattered by an all too familiar sound coming from behind him. There can be no hope of escape this time. It was behind him.