Story time.

Part 1 It's a dark Sunday night. The moonlight is bright enough to cast light on the dirt road im walking on. I stopped for a second to light my joint that Ive had hidden in my sock all day. I've been waiting to smoke this all day. as im lighting my joint i look up to see three cops running towards me. I finish lighting the joint, take a puff, and then right before they reach me i react with my superhuman reflexes. Round house kicking them all in the jaw simultaneously while still puffing my joint. As i take another drag i can't help but think that this weed does not taste like top shelf. I think that fucker at the dispensary sold me some mids on purpose, Gonna have to go back and have a little chat with him....

 

the yellow thing with the blue cap stands motionless. you freeze, hoping that if you don't move, he won't be able to see you, like it's a t-rex in a terrifying yellow suit with a blue cap on.
 
one foot twitches.
 
the sound it makes as the foot scrapes forward on the bridge (which was previously a dirt road) is unlike anything you've ever heard...the closest thing you could compare it to was lion's nails screeching down a chalkboard. it feels like it would shatter a wineglass if you were holding one for no apparent reason.
 
it suddenly breaks into a sprint. the only noise now as you turn around and start running is its breathing. the breaths get louder, and more ragged. you don't dare look back for fear of knowing how close it really is. but not knowing is so bad you almost want to stop just to end the chase.
 
as the creature's breath falls on your neck you notice that, incredibly, you're still holding that joint. you think, "aw fuck? why not" and start dragging it in.
 
as soon as you exhale, however --