Like No Other

Vince Bunnyman ran like no other.
Some people run for weight loss.
Others for fitness.
Others to forget.
To clear their head and let the endorphins do their work.
Vince however ran as if his life depended on it.
Which it did.
He just didn’t know why.
Or more precisely, he didn’t know what.
What was chasing him?
He’d heard stories.
He’d read articles.
That’s why he’d come here.
To the middle of nowhere.
To the bush.
To the place few indigenous people still called home.
The trees tried their best to hold him back, scratching and tearing at his skin as he pushed on.
The pain was nothing compared to what his mind conjured up if his fate was to fall into the hands of his pursuer.
Not that you would call them hands.
It was suppose to be a myth.
A fable.
A legend from generation’s long gone.
A story that the first settler’s had told their children to keep them from venturing out into the bush alone.
To keep them safe.
Story or not, Vince did not feel safe.
His heart raced with the same urgency as the rest of his body.
Whatever it was, it was getting closer.
And Vince was tiring.
He’d been running for what felt like forever.
In reality it was since he’d returned to their campsite.
Since he’d seen the blood.
The body and the blood.
He hadn’t had time to check on her properly.
To check for any signs of life or even a pulse.
The beastly howl that came from the darkness around him was enough to make him turn away in an instant.
To run.
The sound of heavy footsteps behind him instilled images of an elephant trampling towards him.
But there were no elephants here.
And an elephant had not done that to her.
The heavy snarling that followed him now sounded somewhat like a rabid dog or wild dingo.
But both of those animals would surely have caught up with him by now.
Whatever it was, it was big, heavy and angry.
Everything else was left up to Vince’s imagination.
So he ran.
He ran from his imagination as fast as he possibly could.
Praying that it would never catch up with him.