You could swear you saw something -- heard something. The flapping of giant wings, the schlIIINNnng of a blade being unsheathed, the sense that something cosmic was watching you. You weren't ready to die! But something seemed ready to make you.

Weeks earlier, you had experienced several brushes with death. Cars just seeming to race for you, air conditioners falling like rain drops, sparks flying out of any electrical device you got close to; horrid things such as that. It seemed like the universe was seriously done with your existence. What a shame you were always too stubborn to die.

Back then, you'd just seen it as a fight with nature and everything it was throwing at you. Now, you were sure that you were going insane. It felt like you were trying to hide from something that always knew every aspect of your life. A cloaked figure... with wings? Black wings. A bloodied blade. A face shrouded in the shadow of a hood. You were sure of it. It existed. You weren't crazy.

One day, you were were researching your mysterious follower, when a cold, thin hand clasped onto your shoulder. "Why must you run, mortal?"