It’s pitch black, but darkness extends your aural terrain. If you stop breathing, faint squelching sounds tingle your eardrums in the space between your heartbeats. You: sweat-drenched, bloodstained, wild-eyed. Now: seemingly calm in the spine-chilling realisation that you’re no longer alone. And that your hideout has now become a death trap, as the squelching sounds now match the rhythm of your heartbeats: someone is _running_ towards you. Your blood retreats from your limbs, you feel your legs carrying you towards the source of danger. Accelerating towards fear. Fast. Faster. Fastest. A deer running towards the headlights: you anticipate impact — but your pursuer did not. A painful groan suddenly slithers down your left ear canal as your right shoulder makes violent impact with what must have been a human chest. You don’t look back, you don’t need to look back: it’s pitch black.