In the dark

I've lived as a runner for a while now. Followed them, lived with them, moved where ever I could, any place that could be a safe harbor. Always hounded by those people. Cultists, I don't know. Disposable resources is more like it, I've the aftermath of that, bodies arranged in that special way, every single warning sign of It being near.  I've out lived every runner I've been with, I don't know why. There are always vague gaps of memory, followed by the death of yet another one. We're dying like animals, no hope for survival, cut down when we're near the brink.

I've only had the misfortune of running into it once, in some backwards neck of the woods last winter. Can't remember much of it, why I was there. All I've got is the lingering memory of a suit, and a driving pain, like something was burrowing through my skull. Next thing I remember, I'm running across as many state lines as possible. I do remember the date when I encountered it first, December 3rd. Next thing I knew, it was January and I was several states away. I lost an entire month of my time.

I'm tired of running.  I know I can't stop it, it's impossible. But maybe I can slow down its other means.