Trapped in the middle of the road without a way of getting back, we hoofed it, coughing, gagging, wheezing; but still feeling those teeth-tipped-tentacles knipping at our heels.
"Lower," the old man screamed, gritting his teeth soon after. This had no longer been about the research. They took from him the only thing he ever felt could continue to grow alongside him. His knowledge was a wealth, but having it and never being able to share it with someone - someone that lent a willing ear for a change; not because the boss couldn't stop gambling, or because Boss C can't get laid without having a fresh paycheck setting his pants ablaze.
Someone was actually listening.
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