Is This How I Die?

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I sprinted through the forest wildly, tripping and falling more times than I could count.

I could feel it tracking me, somehow. It was like I knew where the beast was, even when I couldn't see it.

I felt a jolt of adrenaline, and ducked just as a shadow of epic proportions slammed into me.

I moved my forearms in front of my throat just in time, and the beasts jaws locked around my guard. I kicked upwards as hard as I could, growling with pain and anger.

The beast released me, backing up and beginning to circle me. I stumbled to my feet, and stared at it, making eye contact.

As soon as my Silver eyes met the Golden orbs of the predator, and my mind blanked, as I felt the connection to the predator fully realize itself.

The predator launched itself at me while I was frozen, and it's giant teeth found my throat.

I choked on my own blood, recognizing the truth of the matter.

I was bleeding out. I had a 86% chance of death. That number was rising as I calculated.

'Fatal injury is impossible... But crippling...'

I fell under the giant Cat, and weakly reached up, clawing at its eye as powerfully as I could. My finger sank into its eye, and it released me again, rubbing it's bleeding eye into the snow in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. I chuckled wetly, coughing.

"Serves you right..." I spat, clutching my throat to stop the bleeding.

It lunged again, and I grabbed its jaws as best as I could, eventually failing. It's jaws clamped onto my shoulder, and in a moment of fevered rage, I bit the predators own jugular, tearing it out.

It jerked, and slowly collapsed onto my chest, trapping me with its 600 pound body of pure muscle and fur.

I chuckled and leaned back as my sight darkened. "I wonder, Sami... Is this how I die?" I asked softly, then scoffed. "Rather Pathetic, don't you think?... Fuck..."

--- 10 Years earlier ---

I jogged through the crowds of Dubai, ducking into a record store.

I picked up an album, ducking my head to 'read' the post. The two men in suits who'd been chasing me ran past the building, and I smirked. I bought the album, a Led Zeppelin classic, (drawing a grin from the elderly salesman, who seemed happy to teach the younger generation about legends of Rock,) and left, whistling 'Jolly Good Fellow'.

A click sounded behind me. "Hands up!"

'Baretta. 0.357. Silenced with a E-57. Oddly specific. A personalized firearm, not an issued one. Private contractor... Ha.'

"You're seriously going to shoot a 10 year old in the streets of Abu Dubai? Are you a moron, or do you just not care about your life?" I smirked.

"If I have to. You're Jim McCarthy, right?" The man asked coldly, switching his safety off.

'Tall, 6'4" at least. North American, New Yorker, Coney Island or Manhattan, possibly Long Island. CIA contractor? FBI? No, the FBI is under too much scrutiny to hire an assassin, and CIA is the only agency that thinks they know my real name. Idiots. CIA it is. Humph... What's the best way out of this? If I knew how to fight, I might have more options... But I don't. I do have an adorable face and my silver tongue..."

"I won't say either way... And do you blame me? In any case, This is Dubai, my American friend. A Non-extradition country. So if you plan to do anything, you'll be breaking several international laws. Also, if you ignore international charter, and attempt to arrest me, I can simply use my adorable charm to gain many allies."

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