"Stay away from me!" Martin Thompson screamed, nearly running into the tree that seemed to materialize in front of him. He jumped out of the way, only to land in a puddle. An explosion covered him with mud and water, and he fell facedown into it after tripping on a rock embedded in the ground. Spluttering, he leapt to his feet, quick to resume his run.
The sounds of the forest, such as the cries of animals and the screeches of birds, resounded in a symphony of terror. He let out a high pitched squeal as a wolf's howl echoed through the woods.
"Leave me alone!" he shouted, still addressing whatever was running after him. He turned back briefly to see if his pursuer gave up the chase, but could see nothing in the thick blackness that swallowed the air behind him.
Suddenly, the claustrophobic atmosphere of the forest broke away, and he realized he was in a meadow. The full moon broke through a hole in the thick clouds, finally illuminating the area. Martin, panting like an animal, and beginning to feel a headache coming on, looked back into the woods. There was nothing.
After a few gasps for breath, he started to chuckle. "I got away," he said to himself, letting the slow feeling of victory branch out and overcome his senses.
"On the contrary Mr. Thompson."
Martin screamed like a five year old when the deep, dark voice sounded from behind him. Starting to shake, he turned to face the speaker.
The moonlight prevented any of the finer details from being deciphered. But, he was tall, thin almost to the point of lanky, with dark hair that was combed neatly. He was wearing what was possibly a dark grey suit with matching pants. Although it was night, he was wearing blue sunglasses that seemed to glow.
"B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b- oss," Martin stuttered, shivering from both the cold and from fear.
"Mr. Thompson, don't be so formal. You no longer work for me." There was not a trace of exhaustion from the run. If he had actually been running. Nor was there anger, which should have been coming off in fumes.
"P-p-p-p-p-lease don't-t-t-t-t hurt m-m-m-me," Martin stuttered.
"By all accounts, I should Mr. Thompson. After all, you broke your contract. You swore never to tell anyone about the factory. And can you tell me what you did?"
"Very good Mr. Thompson." The figure raised his arms revealing the gloved hands.
"Are you g-g-g-g-going to kill me?" Martin sobbed, falling to his knees.
"Why my dear Mr. Thompson, of course I'm not going to kill you. You've been a wonderful worker in the factory. Some of your work were the finest nightmares the factory ever produced." His hand raised even higher, his thumb pressing against his middle finger. "However, I cannot let your crime go unpunished."
He snapped his fingers, and long bolt of purple lightening screeched through the air and struck Martin.
After two seconds of screaming, Martin fell over, and started snoring.
"Goodnight Mr. Thompson," the other man said, before twirling on his heels and walking away.