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The storm is relentless. Lightning flashes across the night sky, branching out, sending bright cracks through the dark clouds that loom overhead. Rolls of thunder follow, their shockwaves strong enough to shake buildings, including the one that I currently cling to. A little lightning and thunder, why is that a problem? It's not; I was just setting the scene.

Sheets of water and ice come at me from every possible angle, driven by harsh blasts of wind that threaten to rip me off the face of the building. I'm soaked clear through to the bone, and have been for a good five hours or so, but the frigid temperature barely registers in my mind.

The only good thing about running for your life is the adrenalin; without it, I would be useless, reduced to a shivering, frostbitten heap. Hand after hand, foot after foot, the process is painstaking, but I climb on, doing my best to ignore the hail beating against me, and the blasts of wind that claw at my limbs and loose clothing. My muscles scream for me to stop, but I force myself to push on, jumping, leaping, twisting; still working my way to the top of the structure called the Empire State Building.

I hear that it was once tall and magnificent, a proud symbol of New York City. Now, after hundreds of years, the skyscraper is run-down and rotten, unrecognizable as the formerly famous landmark. It may not be a functional building, but it happens to work great for climbing, even though the slurry of rain and hail make every possible hand and foothold dangerously slick.

The only comfort I have is my mask. It shields most of my face from the ice, which is great, but sadly, it does absolutely nothing to protect my eyes from the stinging sleet. Blurry vision and climbing do not work well together, especially if it's midnight. The only thing that illuminates my path is the occasional flash of lightning, but the bright bolts only add to my confusion, creating false shadows and illusions. If I'm not careful- I stop the thought instantly. I cannot let my mind dwell on such things. There is no time.

Right on cue, a hovercraft sweeps up behind me, the intense heat of its searchlight penetrating through my sodden clothing. White light fills my eyes for a moment, then vanishes as quickly as it came. I keep climbing up, even though the sudden absence of light has left me blinded. I blink furiously, trying to readjust my eyes to the darkness.

I can't let them catch me, I won't. Water rushes into my ears, and the only sounds I can hear are the booms of thunder and my ragged breathing. Despite the fatigue from running since dusk, my arms and legs are working in overdrive, pushing me higher and higher. The muscles have stopped screaming, but now they feel like lead weights, slowing my speed, dragging me down. I clench my teeth, knowing that if I stop now, I won't be able to convince my body to move again.

Both of my hands reach up and grasp a horizontal pole. Unexpectedly, my grip slips, and I find myself dangling from one hand, staring down at the streets many, many stories below. I regain my hold and try to pull myself up.

But I can't. My arms are shaking, so badly that I can barely control them; in fact, my whole being is quivering violently. I have to stop. I drop from the pole onto a small ledge, pressing the whole front of my body to the wall so that the wind can't blow me away. My breath rattles as it enters and exits my lungs.

Hypothermia is setting in. I can no longer feel my fingers, toes, or face. My body is starting to shut down. I find myself reminding my brain how to do automatic functions, for instance, breathing. I squeeze my eyes shut and force my mind to listen, to ignore the pain, to know that all of this will be over soon. It works. I swing into action, pulling myself up as I continue to climb. Yet no matter how much ground I cover, no matter how fast I move, I know that I will not make it to the top of the building.

So, I settle on a wide ledge. My goal was to reach the summit, but I'm only about halfway there. What difference does it make? You're going to end up a bloody, splattered mess either way; a little voice in my head reminds me. I acknowledge this, and step out into the open. Immediately, as if someone has flipped a switch, the spotlight is back on me. I waste no time.

A howl rips itself out of my throat, resembling the sound that an animal makes when it knows that the only option is death. The cry is ironic given the likeness of my mask. Beneath the plastic covering my face, I smile. I know that I face imminent death, but I get to choose: die by the hunter's hands, or my own. I give myself no time to think as I jolt into motion, a flash of lightning illuminating my path. I know what my choice is, what it has has to be. My feet fly as I sprint straight for the edge. Thunder bellows, sending a shudder through the structure. My terror peaks as my nerves jump. Adrenalin replaces my blood. I'm building up speed and momentum, every step gets easier and easier until-

The roof beneath me disappears. I am running on air.

My body twists so that I face upwards, the light blinding my eyes. I have that feeling, the one where your guts jump up into your chest, making it hard for your heart to beat and impossible for your lungs to function.

I'm falling. It has been a long time since I have felt this sensation.

I am too good, too strong, too invincible to fall. Here, in this urban jungle, I am in my element. I am immortal.

I was immortal.

My eyes close, time slows down.

Any regrets? A little voice asks.

Of course. I will never get to finish my life. I will never get to die an old man, lying peacefully on my deathbed. Nope. My end gets to be bloody and violent. I feel bad for the friends that I am leaving behind, and for the people who will have to scrape me off the pavement.

I was always doomed to die this way, ever since I first started Running. I wish there was another way, but there isn't. Deep down, I have known this since I was just a boy.

Any last wishes?

I wish it could have lasted a bit longer… but fate is fate, I've got to own up to it. I screwed up; this is my fault, my responsibility.

Any last words?

Sorry, friends; in the end, I let you down.

Impact.

I hit something, bouncing a few times before coming to a stop. Whatever I landed on, it was not the asphalt. I feel the crisscross of cables against my back. No. My eyes snap open. I landed on a net.

No. There's no way. How could they have known? I glare up into the harsh light, teeth bared. Damn them for outwitting me, and damn me for underestimating them.

Suddenly, the net is closing, a cable strung through the outer lining of the net starts to cinch shut. I struggle to free myself, but the cables are metal, made slick by the rain. I can barely move without having an arm or leg slip through one of the gaps.

Then, I realize, the net isn't just closing, but also contracting. My legs are pinned together as my arms become stuck to my sides. It constricts even more, tighter and tighter until I can't move at all; there is barely enough room for me to breathe.

However, the cords catch my right arm in an awkward position. My elbow is outside of the net, but my hand remains trapped. I wiggle my arm vigorously, but it won't budge. I can't give up. The cables cut into the flesh of my fingers and wrist, but I grit my teeth and keep trying. Warm blood runs down my arm. I begin to think that it's stuck for good, but-with some help from the rain-my hand pops free.

In one final act of defiance, I rip the mask off my face. My fingers fumble, but I manage to yank it through a gap in the net. I stare at it for a moment. The mask gives me a mischievous sharp-toothed grin. I run my fingers along the plastic, following its familiar orange-and-black striped pattern. My eyes look through its empty slits.

I hear a buzz just before pain seizes my entire body. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize that they must have run an electric current through the metallic net. Bastards.

Just as my vision fades, I catch sight of the mask as it slips out of my stiff fingers, fluttering away like a little orange leaf. It spirals down, growing smaller and smaller, the wind and rain carrying it away to the city far below. The current stops, my body goes limp.

I can't see, hear, or move, but I feel the swinging motion of the net as the hovercraft hauls me away.

Inside, I'm grinning.

They haven't won yet, I think to myself.



Then, my mind goes blank, and I don't think anymore.