Still Reminiscent [Paused/Incomplete]

Chapter 4: Woods and Convenience

Run.

Run.

Just keep running.

There's just no other words to put it.

In the distance, the road that stretches alongside crop fields of wheat is crawling with creepy turned.

There heads not entirely standing straight - upwards, are aimlesly roaming around the road with utter disfigured amenities on their body parts.

There clothes are even tethered looking like that of early medieval  peasants, rough and sketchy dressed from up to bottom.

Wounds that do show on the torn fabric, reveal impaled or rather severe injury and damage. Some of them even have servered arms and legs. Both separately or altogether.

Although, they don't look quite imposing, they are still seen as a threat when provoked.

However, these types of turned aren't so hard-headed as the ones at the city. In simple terms, they are dumb.

But just keep mind so as not be fooled, as they can easily grab their victims at close quarters, surround their targets and a moments notice without even realising that it happened, they soon become a ruthlessly killing machine.

'What am I suppose to do?'

'I've been running for 17 minutes. How long should I go on?' John was in deep thought, his own mind fixated on his decisions. Should he stop? Or should he continue? Two of these questions combined frustrates him.

In John's own point of view, he is constantly side tracking the turned while maintaining a speed limit through the infest region.

It was like playing cat and mouse.

The more skilled the mouse was in it's ability to maneuver around it's environment, the difficultly it would strain the cat on catching it's prey. Ultimately, the outcome depends on whether or not the mouse can escape.

But because the cat is strong and fast, just like the turned, they have leverage over the mouse. On the other hand the mouse, which is John, is cunning and smart.

That is where the cat lacks. An attempt of unpredictability.

However as fate saw it, John is not a mouse nor are the turned a cat, but rather they belong to the same outcome. It's just that the turned are an explicit alternation of the humans. Where they improve at greater levels. Pain resistant. Strength enhancement. Greater stamina and speed.

Seeing them upclose is like wishing for a death wish. There interior rotting away against time. Skin darkening. Eyes swelling blood shot red, and the almost, unknown hunger to consume human flesh, belittles John.

John knew he would come to an end sooner or later. He's breath shaking. He's legs tiring almost completely. Why did he do this? He asks himself.

It was obvious - he was afraid.

Based on clear impulse and instinct, it is quite clear when faced with a split second choice it either meant life or death, which John hurriedly chose the option to run.

Just then John was interruption in his thoughts, his eyes closed before fully staring at the road ahead. Clearly not being attentive, a turned, was right at the midst of John, which he got shocked once again hearing the growling snare infront of him.

The reaction speed looked as if it was unnatural as John used all his energy, and flexed every muscles in his brain to act directly at the turned about a couple of centimetres within reach.

Just barely, the turned was avoided, twisting his legs at a full 180 to the left, John advertently escaped a treacherous obstacle; if not by luck.

'That was close!' he screamed in his head. The wary expression on him grew even worse, gritting his teeth tighter as he was still surrounded by a countless number of turned on all corners, not attacking directly and instead steadily walking lazily like a snail.