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As she runs, the sounds of thudding footsteps echo close behind. A glaring sun flare punctures her vision; she stumbles over the cracked and crooked earth, calloused skin meeting the earth’s own. As though surprised, her chaser’s pursuit falters, the sounds now suspiciously quiet, slow like a predator. A shadow falls from behind her, and she looks ahead—the house and its door are just there. The door to salvation.
Desperate, she kicks out her left leg blindly, and it meets the shins of the monster behind her. An agonised yelp escapes him. She risks a glance back: her foot had connected squarely into the knife wound she had given him before, blood running like lava, his face a statue of volcanic fury. Scrambling frantically, she sets off into a run. The door five metres… four… three… one… The door’s handle is within reach—
She’s yanked back.
Her hand is trapped in his hold. He pulls viciously, emerald-green eyes sparkling darkly, and she sees her own brown depths reflected, utterly petrified.