After ten klicks at a hard run, she feels a genuine gratitude for the lightness of these titanium alloy blades but has to think about slowing down, light as the swords may be, the effort wears upon her now. The ground had been mostly open and her lead on her pursuers only slight and it was about time for her to make a move so she reaches in as deep as she could and thinking fast she pours it on with a surge of speed meant to draw them on behind her even faster which it does as they kept pace still nipping at the heels of her boots.
The country now rolling prairie with sparse ground cover and no trees at all. She crests the steepest hill yet and just as she starts descending spins on a dime planting herself firmly dropping to her knees leaning slightly forward in toward her pursuers at a forty five degree angle to break the forward momentum facing now these oncoming horrors of self doubt, self hate, fear and madness with both swords drawn and held fast blades forward crisscrossing arms bent at ninety degrees and wrists locked now a bodily knot of tense muscle awaiting the impact of the karma screaming down upon her full bore. Her ploy works as the Banshees lost in their hot pursuit are caught off guard and cannot break their forward momentum believing they had her at last so that their forward momentum slams them into the waiting assault of her blades. She closes her eyes muscles trembling with effort as her back, hips, thighs and quads absorb the brunt of the impact feeling the hot gore of flesh and bone and blood impacting her face as the bulk of them split one after another by the blades disembowel cascading over her compacted body now taught like one great muscle and in a split second it seems these demons so long in pursuit are ripped asunder by the onslaught of their own momentum executed against the razor sharp, implacable blades of her swords.
Opening her eyes, shuddering involuntarily, exhausted, she drops the blades to the ground. They do not clatter but thump dully so coated are they with blood and gore as they hit the hard packed dirt and rock. Her body trembles from the strain as she falls back upon her thin ass cheeks rolling onto her right side then and covering her head with her hands sobbing once and for all time a wracking sound that seems to tremble the earth underneath. She sobs so hard and so long that she cannot breath feeling she would pass out from lack of oxygen before finally managing a gasp of air. She realizes dully now barely conscious that she had been running for more than ten kilometers. She had been running for her whole life full tilt running for as long as she could remember being alive. Running out of a child's helpless terror, running in pain and in misplaced guilt and fear and in anger and fervid, hopeless remorse.
After some unfathomable length of time curled up there on the stark, cold earth alone in a pile of gory flesh already grown cold, she manages to walk the fingers of her right hand over to the hilt of one of her blades feeling too exhausted to cry any longer and when her long, thin, blood cakes fingers touch the hilt of her blade, she thinks a little wildly - “it’s over now, it’s finally over”.
