![]() ![]() Arms - if they were in fact arms - hung like dead weight from it's sides. The path you took to get here is gone - obscured in the dark by a large, formless box-like creature standing on two cylindrical legs. After a moment, you catch your breath, though you can still feel your heart pounding in your veins. A second hit and tremor, and suddenly silence has returned. The ground shakes beneath you, as something massive pounds the weary concrete. Instinctively, you clap your hands over your ears and squat down to lessen the pain. The squealing of pieces of rusty metal scraping against each other pierces your ears. A gust suddenly breezes by, and you freeze. ![]() You dismiss the thought - after all, this place is commonly used as a de facto garbage dumping ground - but you can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. You get a strange feeling as you do - it's hard to see in the dark, but it feels like there's something here. It was dark - the only light came from a few flickering orange street lamps on the highway above - but it beat walking home the normal route, where all your friends would see you return shamefully without your board.Īfter a short, contemplative rest, you feel ready and cross underneath the overpass. So many things had gone wrong today, and now here you were, all alone on this concrete pathway. You pause, looking up at the dark, cloudy sky, and sigh. Being held late for skateboarding on school property had robbed you of any sunlight for your trip - and of a way to move quickly. ![]() The warm, humid air hung like a miasma around you, curling the tips of your hair ever so slightly, as you trod home from school. ![]()
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