And that was the second time I ran for my life from hell-warped daemon-worshippers. I vaulted the mess of cans and debris and sprinted for the back door. I slammed into it at full speed, hands on the latch release. An emergency fire alarm sounded; it must have had battery power separate from the city grid. At the moment, I didn't care, as I'd already been found, but when I realized it echoed over the streets and alleys, attracting every monster in the area, I realized how bad of an idea it had been. So, I ran, weaving through alleyways and crashed cars, scurrying through broken homes, and praying for the emperor to not forsake me yet as the cackling fiends behind me drew closer, throwing knives and firing weapons that launched cruel barbs at me. By some miracle of His Will, I wasn't shot, though once I felt something pang off the head of the entrenching tool strapped to my back. Suddenly all those days on the playground getting hazed in games of dodge-ball seemed like a truly emperor-sent blessing.
As I ran, more and more of the warped people began to show themselves. Some looked like bloated green slugs, pustular and seeping through their clothes, while others wore only blood and anger and screamed for my skull. The perverse ones still ran behind me, exclaiming in the joy of the hunt and the pleasures they'd show me, but the truly fearsome ones were the ones in blue robes. They did not scream, or cry, or even run after me. They only watched, through faces under dark hoods that seemed to melt and shift. One raised a hand and lightning sprang from his fingertips, but thankfully it zig-zagged wildly around the street and missed me by several yards. I didn't intend to stand around and let him take a second shot at me though.