He was running. He knew not where he was running to, nor how long he had been running for. All he was aware of was the man that had been chasing him for some time. All he knew was that he had to flee from him, and never turn back.
Through the dark forest he dashed, leaping over tree roots and ducking under low branches. He could not let himself be caught. If he did, it would be all over. He felt that all he ever did anymore was run. Just because he was different.
Ever since the others found him, he had not been able to get a peaceful moment. He was always avoiding them, trying to keep his freedom. They never tried to steal others of his kind; just him. Ever since he had first barely avoided imprisonment, he felt a passionate hatred for the others, especially the hunters. They came in different colors, too, so why did they not attack each other?
He ran past a group of his own kind, pleading for help as he went, yet his cries went ignored. Even they felt a certain discriminatory hatred of him. They never helped. They treated him like he was a disgusting creature, unworthy of love or attention. They seemed to think that getting to close to him might contaminate them with whatever he was infected with, but he knew that it was not terrible. He just looked different, that was all. Because of his appearance, however, he had always been a loner, shut away from all others.
The loner glared back at them, furious at their unwillingness to help, even one of their own! As the man passed by them as well, they hid behind the bushes, as though he might attack them for association with his prey.
The loner kept on running, shouting back at the man to leave him alone, but he did not seem to understand. None of them did. The man had the sort of manic look in his face that said that he would stop at nothing to complete his barbaric task.
The prey tripped over a rock on the ground, and fell into the grass. He looked up as the man caught up to him. "Please leave me alone!" cried the loner to the oblivious attacker. "Please, you people always come into the forest, and every time you take away one of us. Are you not happy with what you have already taken from our home?"
Again, the man did not listen to him, but instead opened his mouth and said something. The loner did not know what language the man was speaking, but could tell from its exhilarated and greedy tones that it was something that he would not like to know what the meaning of.
The man glowered at the loner with a hungry look in his dark eyes. With another few words, he held out a most peculiar object. It looked like the bright yellow light in the sky, and yet, like the loner, different. This object was much larger, and it was not bright nor yellow. It was red on top, and white on the bottom. The loner wondered if it, too, felt ashamed of being different.
In a moment, however, the object burst open, and in a flash of light a creature appeared. It was unlike anything the loner had seen before. It had a long, sleek body with a tenebrous purple hue, which steadily grew thinner until it ended in a point at the end of its tail. Along its body were thin black lines that divided the monster into segments. Nearing the head, the body spread wide into an ovular shape that displayed a terrible design that resembled a pair of large, scowling eyes and a malign smile that could freeze anyone in terror, as it looked like it was the face. But at the top of the elliptical structure was a small but sinister-looking head that bore fangs and a forked tongue.
The horrible creature hissed, which was followed by another sentence from the man. Perhaps following a command, the creature lunged forward with its mouth open wide. The loner rolled out of the way just in time. The loner was now even more worried than before. He did not like to fight. Having spent nearly all of his time in isolation, he had not become an adept warrior. All he had was his speed. No power, no vitality, just the swiftness that had developed from running all day and night. But by now he was worn from his flight, and now would surely be killed by the thing and its master.
It leaped into the air, tail tip alight, and pointed straight at the loner. This time it made contact, inflicting such pain as he had never known, and he fell once again to the ground. He struggled to rise, but something was wrong. There was a burning sensation inside of him; it sapped his strength with every movement. Something the monstrosity had done must have poisoned him.
He crouched down, face against the grass and arms over his head. The creature was now spraying needles of the poison at him, and he was reaching his last reserves of energy. He could not survive, he knew. He would not last through this assault. He would die cowering as he was being sieged by an enormous monster.
"Please!" he cried in desperation, although he was sure the creature could not comprehend the words. "Stop hurting me! I beg of you!"
As the words left his mouth, the pain eased. All that was left now was the poison coursing through his veins. Could it be true? Had it heard him?
"You are ready now," said the thing. "Master will now take you away."
"T-take me... away?" responded the loner. He could not leave the forest. As many poor memories he had faced, the forest was his home. "No, I can't let him. Please, just let me go."
"You are valuable, Master has always said," replied the creature, as though it were in some sort of trance. "There will be no leaving."
"Valuable?" asked the loner. "How? All of my people have abandoned me for what I am. Why would that man want me?"
"I do not know," said the creature. "I simply know that you mean much to Master, and he will stop at nothing to acquire you."
"You speak as though I am a trophy..." said the loner, on the verge of tears. "I wish only to leave you. Please."
"I can't. I cannot go against Master's wishes," said the creature. There was no pity in is voice. And with that its eyes glowed a fiery red, and it fixed them onto his. The loner felt trapped. He could not move. There was no escape.
The man held out another of the strange red-and-white objects. Instead of just holding it, however, he threw it at the loner.
His body became immaterial. He was nothing. He must surely be dead. But just as he was convinced it was over, it was. Not, however, in a way the loner imagined.
He had thought that he would never turn back to the part of the forest he had been fleeing from, but now he knew that he would never turn back to any part of the forest. He would not turn back to his enemies. He would not turn back to is old life at all. He could not turn back on anything. His life was, indeed over.
He had been caught.
