They were coming at me in waves. Hundreds of people, a crowd scene, a stampede, people I didn’t know, all kinds of people, teenagers and crones, bums and CEOs. They were all shouting and screaming and staring at me with a mixture of fear and love and revulsion.
I was moving against the tide, trying to get somewhere important, somewhere I knew I was supposed to go, someplace important, but I couldn’t remember. They were slowing me down, and I simply could not be late. So I started running, swinging my arms wildly in front of me, slamming into the tide of humanity full force.
They exploded. Each person I touched flew apart, torn into bloody hunks of meat and viscera and bone. I was quickly covered in gore, but I kept running, cutting a swath through the hordes. It sickened me, because I didn’t want to get to my destination, but I knew it wasn’t my choice: it was Fate. I knew they would forgive me.