Footsteps thundering behind her, Ciara ran. She didn’t know where, she didn’t know why, all she knew was that she had to get out of the unlit road she was currently pounding along. The much busier main road up ahead was still relatively far away, but she didn’t let that daunt her. The footfalls behind her were still steady as ever: never falling back but never racing ahead to catch up with her either. This frightened Ciara almost more than anything about the whole situation. That, and the fact that she couldn’t hear any breathing behind her. Her own breaths were rapid and shallow, but only footfalls followed behind her. The thing chasing her, for chasing it was, didn’t seem… didn’t seem human.

Ciara had never believed in the supernatural. In fact, she had decided that the whole thing was merely a ruse for the media to pounce on, but now she wasn’t so sure. Earlier that evening, she had been playing the role of the generic white girl, sitting in the local Starbucks drinking frappuchinos with her friends. But then, she had decided to stay on for a bit by herself. That was when she had gotten the feeling that she was being watched. She had felt a gaze boring into the back of her skull, even when she put her back to the wall. There had been no escaping that gaze, it seemed. That was when she first realised something was wrong. Soon after, she had hastily gotten up to leave. She had just missed the bus, so she decided to walk home rather than wait for 20 minutes. Yet somehow, no matter where she went, she couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes following her, watching her. She began to speed up when she was about halfway home, just as she reached the one unlit road she had to traverse on her way home. That’s when she first heard the footsteps. They started off faintly, as they were almost bound to do in a situation like that, but soon gathered enough speed to match her own. Ciara broke into a jog soon afterwards, and then a full-speed-ahead run, which is where we left her last.

Ciara kept running, still not really knowing why. When she had started to run, some basic, almost animalistic instinct had kicked in. Just then, something changed. All the warmth seemed to disappear from the atmosphere. Ciara stumbled, and fell. Cursing herself, a cold dread seemed to seep through her, instantly paralysing her. Then, she felt it. A presence. Something reaching out, pressing on her shoulder, forcing her further down on the ground.

She lay pinned there, her face squashed into the tarmac, hardly with room to breathe. She tried to twist around to see who, or what, was doing this to her. She couldn’t turn her head around all the way, but it was enough. Enough to make her feel very, very glad that she couldn’t turn her head all the way. What lay on Ciara’s shoulder was a scaly, black, iridescent claw, but exerting enough force to keep her pinioned to the ground like a mouse in a trap. She blacked out. And that was all.