Running through the deserted streets, my heart pounding in my chest, I never imagined I would find myself in this situation. The sound of my feet hitting the pavement was drowned out by the heavy footsteps of my attacker, closing in on me with each passing second.

I could feel the sweat mixing with the blood on my face, my body aching with exhaustion. But I couldn’t stop, I had to keep moving, had to find a way out of this nightmare.

Suddenly, I reached a dead end, my heart sinking as I realized there was nowhere left to run. I turned around to face my attacker, a lean, wrinkled figure with a twisted grin on his face.

He lunged at me, grabbing me by the throat and throwing me to the ground. I gasped for air, my body writhing in pain as he began to torture me.

The sound of his laughter echoed through the empty streets, a sickening onomatopoeia that made my blood run cold. He twisted my limbs in unnatural ways, each movement sending waves of agony through my body.

I screamed out in pain, my voice echoing off the surrounding buildings. But there was no one there to hear me, no one to save me from this monster.

As the minutes ticked by, my strength began to fade, my body giving in to the relentless torture. And then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, my friend appeared out of nowhere, a simile of hope in the darkness.

But as he approached, I saw the twisted grin on his face, the glint of madness in his eyes. He had turned on me, become one of them, and there was no escape from the horror that awaited me.