Running through the streets, abandoned, was something I had never seen myself doing in my mind’s eye. The steady rhythm of my feet was echoed by the equal rhythm of my attacker’s footsteps. My heart was pumping, and blood mixed with sweat ran down my lean, wrinkled face.

I turned a corner and found myself at a dead end. My attacker grabbed me, threw me on the ground, and then took his time in creating pain for me. The sound of bones cracking echoed through the empty streets, and I screamed in agony.

The pain was unbearable, and I could feel my body breaking under the weight of my attacker’s blows. Each hit was like a thunderclap, and I could feel my consciousness slipping away.

As I lay there, helpless and broken, I couldn’t help but think of my friend who had turned on me in the forest. He had been my ally, my confidant, but when the chips were down, he had betrayed me.

The attacker loomed over me, his face twisted in a grotesque mask of rage. He was like a demon from the depths of hell, and I knew that I was doomed.

I closed my eyes, waiting for the final blow, but it never came. When I opened them again, my attacker was gone, and I was alone in the deserted streets.

I struggled to my feet, my body aching with pain, and stumbled towards the nearest hospital. As I walked, I couldn’t help but wonder if my friend had been the one who had sent my attacker after me.

The streets were silent, and the only sound was the steady rhythm of my footsteps. I knew that I had to be careful, that danger lurked around every corner.

But I was determined to survive, to make it through this nightmare and come out the other side. I would not let my friend’s betrayal or my attacker’s brutality defeat me.

I would fight, tooth and nail, until I emerged victorious. And I would never forget the pain and horror of that night, the night I ran through the streets, abandoned, and fought for my life.