The fury of the tempest immediately died away, and a dead calm sullenly succeeded.
For around a month now, I've been Running with a guy calling himself Omega. I never bothered asking for a real name. Things like that stop mattering when you've been Running long enough.
It was in a run-down city that it happened. I'm not going to say what the city's name was, nor what state it was in. I will say, though, that Omega and I were there, and we suddenly heard something in the distance.
I turned around to see smoke and hear the rattling of chains. Omega and I both started to run; I looked over my shoulder and saw death itself.
It was the Brute, a Fear made of smoke and wrapped in chains. He stood there, motionless, watching us intently. I tried to get away, my suspicions confirmed. I heard a loud noise, and glanced at Omega. A chain had coiled itself around his ankle.
Sorry to say, I didn't even try pulling the chain. There was no point; there was a Fear on the other end. I just ran.
I think my cowardice saved my life.
- Poe
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