The walls of the young girl's lungs were raw and aching, and she held her breath for the quick relief. Soon she began to feel light-headed, and forced herself to breathe again.

Her tennis shoes slapped wetly against the rain-slicked streets, in near-perfect time with the steel-toed click so terribly close behind her. Tears flew from Amber Doe's eyes, mingling with a trickle of drool that she was too panicked to notice. How did he manage to stay so close behind her? She was the shining star of cross-country track, and she couldn't even outrun the skinny little fag chasing her?! She turned and leapt off the curb, landing with a shock on the blackhole street, weaving in and out of cars as her pursuer followed.

She reached the other curb and didn't stop. The metal-sweet flavor of blood hit her mouth, and she ignored it. Deep in the murky backwaters of her flaccid mind, her primitive instincts caught fire. Something unevolved and insectile urged her- run! And mindlessly she pressed on, adrenaline flailing her limbs and pumping her legs, pushing her to the safe haven of the distant city lights. People. Crowds. Protection. Run!

She sidestepped a chicken wire fence and cut across the long wet carpet of somebody's lawn. Endorphins coursed through her, giving her the energy to continue. As she rocketed across the grass, her fear and hormone crazed mind filled with an image of her running from leviathans in a steaming prehistoric jungle. Hope gleamed like a talisman in front of her, until her foot slipped and tangled in the weeds, sending her to the ground. Sticklike arms pulled her shoulders and a cool knife lightly touched her throat. With what remained of her quickly ebbing hope, she drew an enormous breath, and screamed at any who would hear her. "Help! Rape!"

"Good God, no!"

It took Amber a second to realize the second cry had come from her attacker. She turned her head as best she could, and strained her eyes, getting a glimpse of his shocked face.

"Not rape!" he exclaimed, visibly offended. "Murder! M-u-r-d-e-r! My God, what kind of monster do you think I am?"

With that, he clamped a chloroformed rag over her nose and mouth until she went limp, then began the long process of dragging her to his car.

"Honestly…" he muttered. "The sick things some people think about."

"My head hurts…" Amber muttered in semiconsciousness, a trail of blood forming behind her.