Since I don't know of the character, I'll just go on appearances and assume a nimble, assassinesque character
Sorry if I'm entirely wrong
The footsteps of my two heavy heels echoed their crunches in the gravelled streets around the empty village.
They strook the ground with haste and their incessant beating created a pulse not unlike a lonely grandfather clock.
Except, there was something I found was off about the usually comforting beat of my leather boots.
The echo was never quite the same every time. Unnaturally so, and sometimes I heard sounds that didn't match at all.
Confused after a long day at work, I marched on regardless, trying to focus.
I turned the corner onto my avenue sharply, and, without even a moment to react I felt the thickly treaded wheels of a mountain bike collide with the end of my right shoe. As it turned without slowing even slightly each toe tried desperately to escape until eventually there was no where left for them to curl. I almost fell as the sudden wave of pain shot up my leg.
As I stifled a cry, the cyclist swerved to regain balanced but did not look back but instead continued.
I gritted my teeth and bent my knees over and over to try to calm my quickly numbing foot. That was when I realised, that I wasn't mistaken before. I really did hear sounds in my own footsteps. I could hear, approaching quickly to my right, the sounds of someone, running.
'They must have just been walking along behind me' I thought as I turned myself around, preparing to pretend to not be hurt and assure her that I would be fine. What greeted me wasn't a concerned pedestrian, however. It was a young girl with a disturbingly stern and focused gaze, wearing clothing fit for combat. I saw her retrieve a long silvery knife from her side and rush with increasing pace.
Naturally, before I was even truly aware of it, I started to run. I bolted away, becoming completely primal as my body defied my slow, action-numbed brain. To bolt, though, as I understand it, means to scurry away in a specific direction with huge velocity. I had neither of those things as I limped and struggled as quickly as I could in a very non-specific direction, which happened to be towards the garden of an elderly couple. I could hear my unnamed pursuer approaching closer and closer and I soon learned that trying to outrun them would be futile.
As I continued to stagger, my attention snapped to the pocket knife my grandfather always insisted I carry in the upper left pocket of my jacket. I reached into the pocket desperately in one last attempt to free myself from the absurdly unlikely and surreal situation I had found myself in, and gripped the knife. I turned on a dime and looked at the attacker dead in the eye. They had me firmly in their sights too, as their stone-cold eyes remained fixed onto mine as the glistening blade lifted higher and higher until finally my primal instincts could take no more and in a panic I launched the knife from my hand and cowered away.
A moment that felt like a thousand lifetimes hit me. As I laid there, pathetically curled lightly in a ball on the driveway of Mr and Mrs Parkinson I waited and waited for the story to end. But it didn't. Cautiously, my head jittered up and my horrified expression simply mounted itself deeper as I found the attacker's body splayed across the ground, with my knife plunged deep into their neck.
Whether I was the luckiest man or the unluckiest man on the planet that night, is debatable.
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Wow that's garbage
And not remotely epic, just one random dude coming home from work and being incredibly lucky against a trained assassin
Eh, I still tried my best to be interesting and I enjoyed playing about with words for the best part of an hour.
So even though you probably wasted your valuable time reading that, I had a little fun writing it, seeing as if it's a rarity for me these days.
Cool idea for a forum game, I like it, though I dread to think of what Kobayashi-san will do the the user after me haha