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Persecutor
A big joke
I was running, running…
I had been a long time running, running away. Running away from that monster, that ghoul, that abomination, the terror of humanity…
It had no name, it was just It. It was after me now, because of some whim of fate, It had chosen me as It’s new target. When I took a plane to the other continent I thought I had lost It. But I was wrong, nobody ever lost It. I ran, swam, flew, always away from It. Alas, It did not get tired, It was after It’s prey, me…
I was running through a desert now…
I thought that It would hate the heat, It coming from a cold country.
I was wrong again, It could not be stopped. I could run, but I could not win, I could only postpone the inevitable…
I was tired…
The heat that I had hoped would affect It was affecting me more. Soon It would catch up…
It was getting closer, ever closer…
Then it happened, I tripped, fell on the sand and It was on me…
It then uttered It’s terrible cry:
“TAG!!”
The End (you’re It!)