Most people think that thirteen is too young an age to die. Sadly, what was chasing me disagreed. Imagine being hunted by twenty-five hundred pounds of solid muscle, barbed spines, razor-sharp claws, and foot-long teeth.

Shoving people out of my way as I ran through the city, two thoughts flashed through my head.

How did it find me again? and Why do these kinds of things always happen to me?

I was pulled from my questionings when a poisonous spine sailed past my head and embedded itself in a shopkeeper’s chest. As I glanced behind me, another spine whistled by. Luckily (for me, not the people that got hit), the thing I was being pursued by had terrible aim. Unluckily, the thing had chased me halfway across the world, and was currently chasing me across the other half.

Out of breath, I dashed into an alley to get away. To my left were some trash cans, to my right, a shadowy doorway. The walls of the alley were crumbling brick; farther down, I was confronted with a dead end. Spinning around, I saw that the thing had followed me, and, as it continued towards me, it slowed its approach.

Its body filled the opening to the alley; as it advanced, I noticed everything in minute detail, as you do when you’re about to die. I noticed the bulging muscles rippling beneath its shiny fur. I observed the bone-white spines sticking out at absurd angles. I glimpsed the silvery claws, flashing in the diminishing sunlight.

And then I saw nothing.