The Pathless on Paths---------Chapter VIII(19)

A steel fist collided with his left shoulder, knocking to the ground. His left arm went limp, failing to break his fall, as he fell face down onto the dusty ground. The adrenalin coursed through his veins, and he struggled up again, toiling forwards. His consciousness began to blur. He merely ran forward, out of the gates, and into the woods, not even picking a path. Onwards, his mind told him. As far from that place as possible. Forwards. Onwards...
Eventually, he could run no farther, and slowed to a swaying walk. His head swam. He looked at his left shoulder: it was a scene of carnage. A hole had been opened there, near the joint, and blood ran in streams down his side. He did not feel the pain before, but it grew now, agonizing pain beyond anything he had ever experienced before, burning, flowed from his shoulder, to every part of his body. His legs failed to lift another time. Black spots began swimming in his eyes, growing, obscuring his vision. His breaths felt useless and empty. His legs buckled beneath him, and he fell to the ground, knowing no more.