Darkness closes in on her. The fear of being killed drives her onward through the forest. Her handcuffed hands sway to and fro, as she tries to keep her balance while running across the slippery moss-covered ground. High wet ferns catch on her jeans soaking her pant legs. Is he gone? Has he given up? She slows her pace to listen. I don't hear anything. She breathes in shallow pants glancing around for any movement, a shadow, anything to indicate that she is still being pursued. She laughs nervously. Shadows, huh? With demons around, there are more than just shadows to fear.