I didn't see the truck coming.
I found myself looking at what remained of me, and then a bony hand gripped my shoulder.
"All good things must come to an end."
I looked up into the face that wasn't so much bony, as bone.
"Don't I get to play you at chess for a chance to survive?"
It looked at the remains.
"You really want to go back in there, now?"
"I just... don't want to die."
"Who said anything about death?"
"What are you then?"
"The one who decides if you're good enough to advance."
I went round again.
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