Whumpee let's out a startled cry as a quick, sharp prick goes into the back of their shoulder. They turn and reach back to find a dart and a drip of blood soaking into their clothes. They can hear the voices of their pursuers advancing. Their breath hitches as they turn to run to only trip out of growing delirium. They want to run so badly "GET UP! GET UP!" their mind screeches in desperation, but their body has become so weak. Even the peircing bite of the cold snow under them begins to fade. Then, the voices are right top of them, hands roughly grabbing at them. Turning to look one more time, whumpee gets a glace of the pursuers over him, their masked faces protecting them from the cold as they look down on them. Then, blackness.












