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Her eyes scanned the darkness, and then she saw it. The gleam of teeth, the shine of an eyeball. There was something looming in the darkness for certain. Annabelle was afraid, and she knew that she should run but after all the running she'd done on the surface, she didn't have it in her...

When her breathing had evened out enough, Annabelle lifted her hand to look at how much blood was there. It was only slightly covered. She was injured, but it was probably not fatal. At least not yet. She was in the process of lifting her shirt up to examine the wound, mindful of the sticky...

She could hear the pounding of feet behind her, but Annabelle didn't dare look back. It would only slow her down. Right now, she needed to run. Only, she'd already been running for so long, and they hadn't yet to give up the chase. Her lungs burned with the effort, and there was a stitch in her...