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929545 No. 929545 ID: 80c195

Sand, sand, and more fucking sand.

An endless, hellish landscape. Devoid of life. That's why you're here, after all.

You've been driving for three days straight, kept awake by nothing but black coffee and blacker nightmares. You're somewhere in the southwest, it's as close as you're going to get to your destination, which is to say, nowhere.

You're driving an old beaten-up economy car, in the back trunk sits a briefcase containing 50,000$. On your person, you have a small pocket knife, a burner flip-phone, a wallet containing 60$ or so, and an M1911 pistol with only one seven-round magazine. There's a backpack on the passenger seat next to you with a change of clothes, some toiletries, a half-empty bottle of absinthe, a small tin full of medical supplies, and an almost empty bottle of painkillers.

You're going to need more painkillers soon, your gut is starting to throb again, but you have to ration what you have left.

It's about seven PM, and starting to get dark out. You could either keep driving, to where you don't know. Or you could pull over and sleep in the car. Either way, you need to rest soon, much as you hate the thought of stopping.
No. 929589 ID: 49a777

What would be the problem with stopping? As long as being stationary doesn't raise the chance of an untimely death, it would be preferable to depriving oneself of sleep; the likelihood of any unfortunate event occurring is much greater if you can't focus. I take it you aren't headed to Nowhere, Arizona, that seems a bit literal. Also, just out of curiosity, how did you get here, or, if you've always been here, how did "here" get to the point that it is?
No. 929634 ID: 80c195

You're running from a lot of things; from your past, your mistakes, and most of all yourself.

Well now one of those mistakes, in the form of a very angry ex-acquaintance, is back to kill you. You just hope you're faster.

How did I get here. I good question. It involved a lot of bodies, a lot of bad choices, and the fucking Miami job... Damn, I'm way too sober to be dredging up the past right now.

You decide to pull over and get some sleep before you collapse.

You find a nice spot in the lee of a stone about twenty feet from the road. You take a shot of absinthe, recline your seat, and try to sleep through the howling of the wind.

You must have eventually fallen asleep, because you're awoken by a sharp crack.

You quickly sit up and turn on the car's internal light.

There's a large fracture spiderwebbing across the windshield, the point of impact is nearly powdered. Whatever hit the glass was heavy and hard, a rock or something similar. At first you write it off as the wind and bad luck, but then you realize that the wind doesn't throw rocks. Not like this.

You peer into the darkness outside of the car, and there, directly ahead, about fifteen feet away, are two large green glowing eyes; animal eyes.

Normally, you'd just figure it some sort of desert rodent.

Only the eyes sit about six feet from the ground.

You draw your pistol and chamber a round. You don't know what or who the hell that is, but you have to deal with it one way or another. Just getting away from it would be enough for you.
No. 929640 ID: 49a777

Well, worst case scenario you've awakened some twelve-foot-tall hell-beast that is looming over your car waiting for you to move so that it can squish you out of the car like yogurt from a soft plastic tube. Best case scenario, which, given the state of things, is unlikely, you are asleep and dreaming.

About how far back are those eyes? Just based on the fact that it used a projectile to punch through that glass, it probably can't immediately reach you, so there is a good chance you could start the car and reverse away. Given that the car does not start, you will die if you continue to attempt to start the car after it does not once or twice. Only use bullets if you know you will hit and other options are suicidal. All things considered, your best bet is escape.

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