He had been running for hours. Or, he was assuming that he had been. It had been daylight when he first caught a glimpse of those wings, spread out as it took to the air behind him. Since then, it had turned dark, and now if he looked to his side he could see daylight on the horizon, between the houses and trees that obscured the city's view of most of the skyline.
Another clue was the pain, the tightness, in his arms, legs... his whole body. He had to of been running a long time, because he did the likes of this on a daily basis. Perhaps not as fast, or frantic, but unlike now, his life didn't depend on how fast he went. No, it didn't depend on it even now, did it? This thing was playing with him, and he knew it. If it wanted to take him off, wherever the demonic beast so desired to go with him, it could. It was keeping up easily. He could hear the leathery beat of it's wings, and aside from the occasional car horn, it was the only thing he heard. It had never changed pace, never seemed to fall behind. It was right there, just above him, a few feet away.
Going home was a thought continually going through his mind. But the other thought, was his son. He couldn't have been about five. What if that thing followed him home, and got him, too? He would fall to his knees and left the thing rip him apart then and there before he lead it home. No, he was doing just the opposite. He was running just as far away from home as he could. He already knew very well that he probably wouldn't see his house again, or his wife, or his son. Or his son's dog... it sent a pain through his chest worst than the pain in his legs. But if he wasn't going to see them again, then by God, he was going to do everything he could to protect them.
Then he saw a picket fence just up ahead. He couldn't go any faster, but he took off up it as he hit it, and vaulted over the top. He felt the hands graze his back, felt the breeze come off the creatures wings as it was right over him. And just as quickly, his feet were on the ground and he was running again. It was closer now, right above him, but he didn't allow his dark eyes another glimpse of the beast.
Before he got to the other side of the yard, there was a slight tug at his back, and then his feet were running on air. He gasped, shifting as he realized the creature had taken hold of his clothing and lifted him off the ground. His heart rate picked up, and the higher up he got, the dizzier he got, until he realized; it took hold of his clothing.
He struggled a bit, then slid out of the trench coat, and collared white shirt he wore under it. He hit the ground hard, but he got up, and turned sharply in the yard. Again, he ran. He was slower now. His muscles had the time to relax, and it was difficult to make them go more, but he did. He took up another fence, but this time, the claws didn't graze his back. They took hold of him, digging into his bare sides before he even had the chance to get all the way over the fence.
It only took another beat of it's leathery wings to pry free his weak grip on the top of the fence, and it took to the air with him. He groaned softly in pain, moving to try and grab it's claws, and pull free. Then it moved, and pulled him up closer, pulling an arm tightly around his torso, which effectively restrained his arms, and pinned him against it as it flew. He grimaced, looking down at the scaly gray arm clutching him.
Now all the stories he had read, that his wife had dug up, about the Jenner girl who'd lost her brother to the monster, or the Taggart family, who had lost their youngest son to it, didn't seem so absurd anymore. It seemed almost ironic; he had been the first to tell his wife it was nothing but a load a bull, that the girl was probably on drugs, and the family just wanted to gain money and publicity from it.
And the bus full of kids that was attacked, he had claimed were working along side the family for the sole purpose of pulling a prank on everyone. But now he knew the truth to it, and it was a little too late for that. But if he had known, if he had believed it, would it have really made much of a difference?
He didn't think so.