A truck barrels toward me, showing no sign of slowing down—no recognition that I'm standing right in its path.
There's no time to move. No time to scream. No chance to escape.
A crushing sense of dread settles over me as the shadow of the truck stretches across the pavement, wrapping around me like a cold, familiar embrace. It feels like death itself has come to collect—slow, steady, and inescapable.
And as it all unfolds in slow motion, only one thought circles in my mind, looping like a bad joke:
How could such a good day end in such a terrible way? I think bitterly.
But you're probably wondering what's going on, right?
Who am I?
How did I end up here?
And why should you even care?
Well, the guy writing this is a huge Warhammer Fantasy fan. The moment he learned about the Skaven—those conniving, rat-like monsters—he was hooked. Completely obsessed. So naturally, he decided to write this story… even though he just started another one. And has a different one already ongoing. Yeah, commitment issues.
So here we are. Welcome to the mess.
Oh—and before we really get into it, the author wanted me to tell you he's going to update one of his other stories soon. But he can't decide which one, so… comment and help the guy out.
"Hey! What's taking so freaking long?!"
That's Sera, by the way. Loud. Impatient. Foul-mouthed. She's not really great at waiting for death—or anything else, really.
"C'mon, give him a break," says another voice, this one softer. That would be Jack. Big guy. Gentle soul. Basically a golden retriever in human form.
Oh right—should've introduced myself earlier.
I'm Nick. I'm the smart one in our trio. The nerd. The thinker. The guy who asks, "What's the worst that could happen?" and then finds out the hard way.
And now, somehow, all three of us are staring death in the face.