The Tiny Ginger

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     The sky was dark, the moon shone dimly above me. I was jogging down the alley across from my old school, wondering how I had gotten myself caught out here with her. No one else was around, no one else was alive. It was only me, and her,and the wind.

     As I came out of the alley, I glanced behind myself, pondering where she had gone, only to catch a glimpse of her weapon glint in the shadows of the night. I began to sprint. I ran for my life, she was catching up with me, I wouldn't get away. Sweat coated my forehead as I sidestepped into an alley after turning a tight corner. I held my breath, praying she wouldn't find me. I heard her first, she growled and let out a guttural scream. I watched her bolt past me faster than any human could run.

     I ran silently in the opposite direction, breathing heavily and glancing over my shoulder constantly. I passed fallen trees, and houses burning so hot the hairs on my arms were beginning to singe off. The wreck of her wrath.

     Finally, after running for what felt like hours, I figured I had lost her. How wrong I was. I was rounding a corner on my way home when she found me. Foaming at the mouth, faster than I could respond, she jumped into the air and spun around, clicking the button that released her crimson red-blade from the end of her flute, before smacking me in the head with it. I attempted to dodge, but she was too fast, I was outmatched, and now bleeding badly from my head, just above my left ear. All of this happened within a second.

     The next move she made I was ready for, or so I thought. I attempted to block her next strike but she already knew what I was doing. Her blade passed through the flesh on my arm, straight through the bone. I screamed in pain, my voice echoing through the empty streets. She looked me dead in the eyes and winked before shoving her blade into my neck and slicing sideways, she played a song as I died, soft and sweet, yet eerie all the same.

     Everything went dark. I was dead.

     My name was Mr. Johansen, and I learned a lesson that day, never mess with The Tiny Ginger.

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