The wooden door swung loudly behind me, the wind blowing it open and shut, the raging storm growing more intense, and I knew it wouldn't cover my trail for long. I was being followed; it was only a matter of time before they arrived. I'd have to keep moving soon. I used my knife to cut and pull away my jeans to expose the wound. The blood was black, and the smell rancid; it was nauseating, and dizziness was settling in; I knew I wouldn't have much time. I wrinkled my nose in disgust and knew I had to act soon. I knew what it had to be to cause such a toxic reaction so quickly.
