Heart pounding, you make a split-second decision and dive into the panicked crowd, hoping to disappear among the chaos. People push and shove in every direction, their collective fear sweeping you along the street like a riptide. You glance over your shoulder just in time to see Karen standing tall, her hands on her hips, surveying the fleeing humans with an amused smirk.
“Oh, don’t run now,” she calls out, her thick Scottish accent cutting through the city noise. “I just want a wee bit of fun.”
Ducking behind a toppled food cart, you crouch low and watch as Karen’s towering form moves with terrifying grace. She steps over cars and reaches down, plucking a man straight from the throng. His screams pierce the air as she holds him up to her face, her bright blue eyes filled with curiosity.
“What have we here?” she murmurs, turning him in her grasp like a toy. “A brave one, or just too slow?”
The tiny man thrashes wildly, his fists pounding uselessly against her fingers. Karen’s lips curl into a smirk, and for a brief moment, you think she might let him go—just like she did with the others.
But then, without warning, she closes her hand around him. His screams are muffled instantly, and with a sickening crunch, his body crumples under the sheer force of her grip. She opens her palm, glancing down at the broken form with a slight frown.
“Well, that was disappointing,” she sighs, wiping her hand casually against the side of a nearby building, leaving a smear behind. “I was hoping you’d last a wee bit longer.”
A wave of nausea washes over you as the realization sinks in—this isn’t just a game to her. You need to move, now.
Karen scans the street again, and her piercing gaze sweeps dangerously close to your hiding spot. Time is running out, and your options are dwindling.
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