Chased
"Shit! What rotten luck is...this...?"
Ethan stumbled through the dense foliage, his breath ragged and labored. Pain seared through his body, each step intensifying the torment of his injuries. Cursing under his breath, he gritted his teeth and pushed himself to keep going, his willpower overriding the physical agony that threatened to consume him.
Looking back very briefly, Ethan felt chills as the malignant presence chased after him. He decisively shook his fright away and focused on his efforts in running. If he stops here, he will undoubtedly die, that's for sure...
Blood trickled down his face from the wound on his head, obscuring his vision as it streamed over his closed eye. The crimson stain on his clothes marked the toll the chase had taken on him. He could feel the weight of broken bones and fractured ribs, a constant reminder of the peril he had found himself in.