• The fog looms out across the lightly wooded clearing.
    My limbs are heavy.
    My breath feels ragged as my lungs constrict.
    The still vapors in the air hide my terrified expression as I move as quickly as possible to the safetly of the trees that only seemed to crawl further and further away. I wouldn't make it. Not this time. I could already hear the others on my trail. Their scent was easy to follow. I took one more breath of the air I would soon no longer need. The tip of my scepter shone bright through the fog. They were here, those that we called the undertakers. Four on one was hardly a match, but then again, the game of life could hardly be called fair.