Panic raced through Diana's blood as she ran though the empty street. Shadows darting from a flickering lamp light a block ahead of her signalled help in morse code. Behind her, footsteps echoed off of naked buildings and slick pavement, surrounding her in a cape of taps and ticks. An empty metal trash can wobbled and fell behind her in the sudden rush of air of her passing.

Must keep running, must keep running, Diana's mind thumped over and over again. She didn't know where he was, but she knew he was behind her. One block, one step, it didn't matter. All she knew was that he was catching up. Diana didn't dare look back for a slight arrest in her forward momentum could mean doom. She could hear his laughter, his crazy maniacal laughter that pierced her body straight through to the bone with each staccato note.

Diana's legs began aching now. Lactic acid was building up in her legs depriving her muscles of the precious oxygen that kept her going. The skin on her arms felt as if it were loose, creating drag in the wind that only slowed her down.

If only she could get away, if her soul could fly from her body and escape at a speed faster than light, she knew she could be free of the maniacal laughter. The laughter that killed her.