The OD

She's running through the endless field of her dreams, b ut she can't escape from me, n o one ever has, or ever will. They always fall. I am The OD.

Throughout the centuries I've taken the ones who take themselves. The ones who turn their own bodies into a chemical wasteland. But she has taken more than just herself, she's taken others. She is a distributer of the evil, the sin. The many lives, hopes and dreams this wretch of a woman crushed will be avenged. Her fate will be far worse than most. I am The OD.

She stops, must think that she has lost me, but her delusions are my domain. Panting, coughing, sputtering, the poisoned blood, the pure evil, rushes through her veins. She brought me here, and now I must punish all of her terrible deeds. I am The OD.

I close in. In an instant, I am upon her. She struggles, I grab her scarred wrists with those blackened circles. She screams. It's too much for me, there is too much life in that scream. I stumble back, dazed. She continue's her futile escape. But she's slowly dying. The life emitted by her scream evaporates. I will have her. Her death is now certain. I am The OD.

She is trapped in her own hallucinations. The very ones that summoned me to her damaged brain. Her life is gone, she stops her running and sits down, crying, with her hands covering her face. Her life is tired. My cold appendages wrap around her. Her skin turns black. Her mouth spews foam and her eyes roll back into her head. She spasms and chokes. "You have put up a good fight, but none escape what is already inside of them. I now grant you death." My words end her life. I am The OD, I am The Overdose.

Now, in another dimension, a girl who has dealt heroin her entire life dies in her run-down apartment, of an overdose. Needle still stuck in her vein. A few quiet gurgles and a spasm are her last actions.