The Name of The Game

Chapter 1

Jack Frost. The nickname suited him. It was actually kind of ironic in a funny sort of way. You see, Jack was always a warm person. Physically at least, he never could seem to hold on to another human being. Ah, but I am getting ahead of myself. Let me put you in his shoes.

       I was running, sprinting, trying to get away, but no matter how fast I ran or how hard I moved my legs, I was getting nowhere. It was dark outside and the moon was out, full, large, and, for whatever reason, yellow. Not the normal yellow either, more of an off tinted cream, that could almost be classified as white. I was on a highway, which was different. Mostly I ran on trails hidden inside the woods in my free time after work. Once or twice a week, I would go out on the same trails and run the three and a half mile loop, just to meet back at my car. Ahh, my car. It was a beautiful 1972 Ford Mustang hatchback. It shone in the sunset when I parked it. All I had to do was find it.
        I looked down at my watch. It was broken, still set at seven: twenty three. Obvious to me it was way past that time, looking at how high the moon had risen I would have had to guess it was between midnight and 12:30. Good thing I was a Boy Scout. I was on a highway, late at night, in a pair of basketball shorts and a Rolling Stones t-shirt. I knew this was bad, but panicking would do me no good. So, I breathed, in and out, in and out. I didn't know why but this always helped calm me. 

      "Time to find my way back to civilization, before I left my mind grab this opportunity, and I start making some shit up in my head." I said as I worked my directions out in my head. "Ok, if the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, then the moon must do the same, right? Right." I thought reassuringly. "That means that this way must go north and back to the car." As I took off down the left side of the road; always a precaution I took seeing as a car will drive on the right, therefore they will see you in the side of the road; I realized that whatever I was running from was gone. The chill of the breeze outside felt good on my skin. It must have been 40 degrees outside, and while most thought that was cold, I was perfectly fine. I was always warm, the cold didn't bother me, and I thought it was a nice day for a run. Well night now. This road could have gone on and on forever but, I guess every road felt like that once you got used to driving them.

       The highway was familiar, it was one of the only roads in and out of town. There was the one going each direction, North, East, West, and South, the one I was on, and there was nothing on these roads for then next twenty or thirty miles. As I ran I thought "It is a little strange how our town was built on a crossroads." But I guess that only added to the flow of traffic and much needed financial assistance we got. People need gas, they pull in. They need food or somewhere to sleep, they pull in. It wasn't a big city and it wasn't a small town. There were a couple churches, a school, two or three gas stations, a local diner, and a few fast food joints, along with some other stuff. The people there are friendly, but mostly keep to themselves.
      I was moving at a comfortable pace and even though it was late and I was tired, everything was amplified. I heard what I thought to be the snap of a branch and when I turned to check, I fell. Not like a whale jumping out of the water, I was a skate boarder back in the day, and knew how to fall to keep from getting hurt. Still, the freshly dewed grass was tingly in my shoulders and I start to get a little cold. As I looked to see what had made the noise, there was nothing. Do, I began jogging again. This time I ran a little faster, hopefully distancing myself from whatever was behind me.