My name is Iris. I was born with red hair, so naturally, I was destined to die young. My execution is scheduled for next weak. I don't have much time left, and I'm not going to let that time go to waste. So I'm telling you my story, as a warning for what's to come.

(rated yellow for violence)

Copyright (c) 2013 of MyUsername.


1. The Chase

They’re getting closer, and so is my imminent death. I’m fast, but they’re faster. They’re big, and muscular, I’m small and thin. I’ll surely be dead before the first wolf howls at the approaching dawn.


I weave through the crumbled old buildings, trying my best to lose them, but to no avail. I can practically see them reaching for me with their pale fingers, snapping my neck in a single movement, then flashing that cruel smile of theirs, barely able to contain their excitement as my head is placed on their boss’s mantle like a sick trophy.


I can’t let that happen.


I turn sharply, hoping to put some distance between us. A tanned arm shoots out of an open doorway, pulling me In before I can dodge it. I smell the sharp scent of chemicals as a wet cloth covers my nose, and I’m pulled into a deep, dark slumber. All before I can even scream.

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