Reality has this vibrant quality to it when one faces a life-changing (or ending) moment. All colors appear vividly, all sounds magnified. Time seems to stop. Of course, this is an illusion, a last-ditch effort by the brain to try and notice everything and anything that might save your sorry ass. The truth is that you are not faster, nor stronger, and just as screwed as you were before.

Nathan’s eyes dart left and right, past the multicolored lines of neatly parked suburbans, the cookie cut rows of identical houses, the firestorm of autumn leaves on the street and straight into the thing standing in the middle of it. Nathan is having an epiphany. His colleague Sarah’s babble of insults barely registers on his consciousness and his full attention is dedicated to the thing, and his new sense. His new sense is telling him that what stands in front of him is a thing of swamp and death.

Cold. Unforgiving. Inhuman.

Inhuman.

There is too much too consider, too much that he doesn’t understand. With a supreme effort, Nathan focuses his attention on the now. Sarah is holding her phone and mentioning things like “sorry ass in jail”, now that he pays attention, it does look human. Barely. It is standing almost as high as him, about five foot ten , although somewhat stooped, as if It could be much taller. Its face is large, ugly and misshapen, its chin is too forward and is supporting a mouth that is too large, above a long and bulbous nose, and small dark eyes. Its auburn and grey hairs sprout from its scalp like desert grass and its skin is the greyish tint of really sick people. It is also wearing a dark T shirt, a jean with holes in it and ruined sneakers.

Besides a general air of decay and total lack of respect for self or basic hygiene, the thing’s most noticeable feature is its world class creepy stare. Sarah remains undaunted but the thing just keeps staring so it looks like violence would be inevitable. Violence. Nathan cannot help the cold dread that creeps up his spine, making him stiff and turning his hands into shaky wrecks. Funny how seeing violence on TV or in video games should numb you but when confronted to it one finds it hard to react.

Thankfully, when Sarah mentioned a stalker at the end of her shift, Nathan knew he had to come prepared, so he reaches into his hoodie and paws option B. Sarah, he’s going to attack. Nathan does not know for sure how he knows, but he knows. He also knows that the thing will attack him because, well it’s staring at him as if he were made out of bacon. He is proud that his voice is only slightly off.

"Go. Now."

He pushes her lightly on the shoulder and Sarah mechanically moves to her yard gate on Nathan’s right, seeking shelter. After a second of hesitation, the monster finally makes its choice and lunges forward, hands aiming at Nathan’s neck. Nathan moves his hand by a fraction and pulls option B’s trigger.

Nitrogen launch two barbed darts that bury themselves deep under the filthy T-shirt. Contorted rage turns to surprise, then pain as the thing falls on the ground, shrieking like a banshee as the electric gun’s high intensity current fries his nerve endings.

For a good ten seconds, Nathan only stares as it convulses in shock, then whatever fueled the current stops. For a brief instant, the street is filled with a surreal calm. Nothing moves, not even the trees. This looks so much like a horror movie that Nathan half expects the thing to play dead so it can grab his leg and turn him into exhibit A for the FBI investigation.

The thing moves a hand.

Slowly, almost lazily, the thing sits up and looks at Nathan. Its gaze is one of sheer hatred, dark and unforgiving. Pain, humiliation, despair. With a glance, the creature promises all of it and more. Nathan has never faced this intensity of feeling before and it makes him shudder. What must one do to warrant this aggression, this… Grudge?

Nathan steps back as the creature slowly squats. Its claw like hand grabs the nearest car’s door, leaving a furrow in the bright paint.

It’s decision time.

Nathan sprints toward Sarah’s yard gate, still open. In an instant, the creature leaps but falls short, still numbed by the shock. Nathan is in the yard, pulls the gate closed behind him. The creature’s second lunge ends in a metallic clang against the sturdy metal frame. Then, climbing noise. This was just a respite. Nathan scans the small yard. Short grass dotted with children’s toys, the entrance door shut tight.

There is a metal dumpster tucked against the wall. Nathan uses his momentum to jump on the dumpster and then, over the wall and out of the yard. His knees scrap against the hard stone but with a supreme effort, he is over. In the yard the thing screams. Nathan is now in the street perpendicular to the one he was before. There are no hiding places, no obvious weapon.

On a hunch, Nathan decides to circle back to where he came from. As he reaches the corner he hears a frustrated yowl behind him. Spotted. So much for the mind games. Nathan runs. There are gouges on Sarah’s gate. Unbelievable. He needs something, anything. On his left there is an empty beer bottle on an electric box. He grabs it, but this is not a weapon. Not against this. A diversion? At the next crossing Nathan risks a look back. The thing is running at him in a strange gait, gaining ground. It’s faster than a cheetah on steroids. This will be a close call. Nathan turns left again. This street is much shorter. It is not long before the next intersection. He turns left a final time. He has circled the entire block.

Timing.

Nathan jumps on a car, then on its roof, his momentum carrying him on and up. At the apex of the jump, he whirls on himself and throws. There is a beautiful instant when gravity seems to lose its hold and the glass decoy reflects the pale light. Then reality comes knocking. As the thing finally emerges from behind the wall, he lands and rolls while a clear shattering sound hopefully drives attention elsewhere. Nathan crouches. The smell of asphalt is the only thing he can pick up but he knows there is little time. Hugging the line of cars he flees away, away from the thing. Finally, he hears something he did not expect: snorts. Using a car for cover he risks a glance back.

The thing is on all fours. A hunched form sniffing the ground like a hound. Unbelievable. Nathan swears the thing felt his stare on its back. It turns its head and yowls. Nathan starts running again. This doesn’t look good. Nathan has no weapon, he cannot hide. The thing is faster than him and he is already beginning to tire. He needs shelter, but where? He doesn’t know this part of the city. Need to keep running. And then he hears rather than see salvation. Salvation is coming from the right. Nathan risks a last look back.

Now or never.

He reaches the next intersection mere instants before the thing. Nathan jumps up, the thing lunges at him. For an instant, it looks like he will fall short. Then his foot catches a metal roof and he moves on again. Destabilized, he lands and try to catch his balance, turning just in time to see the surprised look on the face of the thing while half a ton of sedan rams into it. Brakes screech and the thing falls down.

Nathan stares helplessly. He is spent. If the thing keeps coming, he doesn’t know what he can do. The thing sits up in the slow and careful way that screams “blunt force trauma”. In its dark eyes there is something more: fear. Then it hops away. A fifty something woman steps out from the blue sedan, she is tastefully dressed and her prim face is marked by disbelief.

“What the fuck…”

Nathan could not have put it better himself.