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Rated: 13+ · Draft · Fantasy · #1698571
An intro to a story im writing called Nightrunner
         run, run, run, RUN DAMMIT RUN!

         

                Every inch of my body was screaming at me to flee for my life, but I was frozen to the spot like a statue; I couldn’t move at all. The deafening screech of metal on metal blocked out every other sound as the lights of the subway train came more into focus. I was staring into the face of Death; it couldn’t have been more obvious if the letter D.E.A.T.H. were painted on the front of the oncoming train, or that Death was the one driving. Although, I dont know why Death would be driving a train. Only one thought was going in my head. I'm going to die. SHIT!

         

              They say your life flashes in front of your eyes when you die; I believe that theory now. In an instant, all of my life’s memories passed in a blur. It made me dizzy. When I got my head back together I got to thinkin'... I should probably run.



         The thought was well-placed, but putting it into action was another issue entirely. My body refused to obey, locking up my muscles and turning every ounce of my flesh into dead weight. It was funny, so I laughed, the sound coming out a strained wheeze in the face of my quickly advancing doom. After years of challenging myself, I had finally met my match in such a way.



         The train drew closer, rapidly closing the distance between us. Normal people would scream, probably run… so why was I just standing there? Why was I laughing as if someone had just told me a funny joke? Maybe I was crazy, which was very likely. What sane person would laugh at an oncoming train? Hell, at least I wasn’t a coward, much good that would do me.



This is it, the end; Game Over.



The sound of the train’s horn echoed down the tunnel toward me, building in strength. The light from the train as it drew around the bend grew brighter, blinding. I could see the front of the car, and it was getting closer, very quickly. Huh, I guess D.E.A.T.H. isn’t written on the front, but I couldn't see the driver.



I assumed the driver, or who I thought was an actual driver, was hitting the emergency brake because the metal screeching got louder, to the point of earsplitting pain, but it was no use. It was too close, going too fast. It would hit me anyways. I hope you dont mind a little blood on your windshield.



Then it happened. An instant, and everything went black.

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