It just kept chasing him. 

The scent of smoke was heavy in the afternoon air, a pungent aroma of burning embers that never seemed to fade. Heavy, metallic thuds echoed through the cemetery, bouncing off of tombstones and into the ears of a crouched Chion Pagos. An otherworldly presence stomped past the youths hiding spot, an abnormally large tombstone that managed to encompass his entire frame. Bovine-like snorts could be heard over the grinding of metal against metal, snorts that could almost be mistaken for signs of frustration and anger. 

Chion didn't think mechanical bulls felt emotion though. That's what had been chasing him, a male cow with horns the size of the white-haired youths body length, made out of metal and malice. 

Ever since the young teen had awoken, regaining some semblance of consciousness, the young man had been evading the bronze bovine as best he could. Running through lanes of rushing cars, slipping through alleyways, entering crowded areas, and even stealing some clothes from a local Walmart to change his look. However, no matter what measures the confused individual took to rid himself of his unwanted companion, the raging rustbucket always managed to track him down, caring not about who saw it nor what direction it needed to take. It was relentless in its endeavors, seemingly with limitless energy and a deep-seated hatred for males with white hair.

And of course, just like pretty much everything else, Chion had no idea what the thing was. 

In all fairness, though, he didn't even know who he himself was or where he had ended up. The moment he had opened his neon blue hues to the world, it had been a nonstop sprint for survival through the clustered streets of a place known as New York City. There hadn't been enough time for Chion to rest and sift through his own inner turmoil, to properly analyze his location and his situation.

All he could do was run. Run and survive. 

Letting our a shallow breath, the teen reached into the pocket of the blue hoodie he had 'borrowed' from Wal-Mart, pulling out a small folded up piece of paper, yet another thing he had 'borrowed'. Making as little noise as possible, Chion unfolded it and scanned its contents, actually paying attention for the first time since he aquired it.

(("Flatbush. Bushwick. Bay Ridge.")) The youth rapidly glanced over the map, searching for signs of his whereabouts. (("Canarsie. But where's the cemetery?"))

SLAM!!! 

The sounds of shattering concrete could be heard as the mechanical monstrosity let out a war cry, swiping its horns across a row of tombstones directly across from Chion. Without any further words of encouragement, the white-haired amnesiac broke into a dash, heading for the cemetery's entrance. Bobbing and weaving through the graves of the dearly departed, Chion did his best to remain as quiet as possible, ignoring the frustrated ramblings of the malfunctioning beast. Once he reached the gate leading out, the teen glanced back briefly, assuring his escape had gone unnoticed before disappearing around the corner.

A brief reprieve, that's all it was. An escape from the constant cycle of cat and mouse. Eventually, the game would begin again, and Chion would once again return to his struggles. This would continue to happen until the cycle was broken.

Either he met a grisly end by the bronze contraption, or Chion found a way to shut the machine down. 

Permanently.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Need to come up with something," the youth said, dashing past a crowd of onlookers, the same pedestrians that had watched a bull burst through the cemetery's entrance. "Quickly."

After putting a decent amount of distance between him and the bull, Chion flexed the map out fully once again, giving it a careful once over. At most, he had around an hour before the mechanical mammal managed to track down his whereabouts like some sort of freakish bloodhound. What the Chion needed in that instance was a proper intake of food and a quick rest. After he managed that, he reckoned he'd be able to properly formulate a plan that could put the brakes on his bronze stalker. After running for a few hours, he felt as if his legs had morphed into sticks of room temperature butter.

"Let's see. Canarsie Cemetery is here. There's a Mini Mart over on East 87th." Chion mapped out the route in his head as he folded the piece of paper. "Don't have any money. Guess I'll have to-"

"Chionothýella Pagos. That's you, right? I don't believe I got the name wrong."

Chion immediately shot up upon hearing his full name, hues glancing up towards the speaker. He hadn't heard anyone approach him, having specifically chosen a spot that was comparatively isolated, away from the prying gaze of others. It was only when the man spoke up that he was even able to feel someone else's presence, an alarming thought when considering the metallic bull. If it had been his bronze friend, he would have been trampled underfoot before he even knew what had happened, too absorbed into the map to realize the danger.

 Tucking the borrowed paper back into his hoodie, Chion zeroed in on his guest. 

A jogger. At least, that's what the white-haired individual thought upon first glance. A middle-aged man, maybe around late 30s with salt and pepper hair, slim and fit with a New York City Marathon t-shirt, nylon running shorts, and a pith helmet. Fastened to his back was a murky grey backpack filled to the absolute brim, its zipper bulging out in protest. In his hand was a cellphone, a singular antenna sticking out of it. Probably the oddest addition to an already questionable attire were the wings attached to his sneakers.

"Yeah....I'm Chion." The youth took a step back, eyes flicking about, assuring his potential escape routes. 

"No worries, I'm not here to skin you alive." The man tapped a few buttons on his phone. "I'm just here to make a delivery. I can't stay too long or converse freely, unfortunately. Part of the agreement."

(("Agreement?")) Chion took another step back. He wasn't afraid of the man, but he also wasn't sure what was going on. The stranger knew his name so logically he couldn't just run away. He needed information.

"I'll just leave you with this," the man said as he shrugged off the backpack, dropping it by Chion's feet. "You'll find the contents useful on your journey. There are instructions regarding some of the objects within it, such as the ambrosia and the Greek fire. Careful not to get any of that stuff on you. There's some cash in there as well, plus some clothes that were thrown in there last minute-"

BOOM!!

Chion flinched, kneeling down slightly as if he was about to peel off, a rumble of noise cutting the man off. While there were some clouds in the sky but not enough to constitute the massive outburst of thunder. 

"Right. I'm leaving, I'm leaving."

The jogger turned around and began to walk away, pressing some buttons on his phone. Before he fully departed, he tucked the device into his pocket and looked up into the sky. 

"It's an awfully nice day to head to the pier. Maybe going for a swim wouldn't be that bad." The jogger glanced back ever so slightly, the edge of his hues meeting Chions. "Would be a shame if I missed out on it, don't you think?"

And, following the ongoing craziness of that day, the man disappeared in a cloud of smoke. For the longest time, Chion's brain stopped working. 

Truth be told, if time wasn't of the essence and he wasn't being hunted by a four-legged herbivore made out of tempered earth and unnecessary bloodlust, the young man probably would have had a mental breakdown. Nothing was making sense, he didn't have his memories, and his life was in a constant state of danger. As much as the youth wanted to vent his emotions and break down, he couldn't afford to.

Stowing his own inner turmoil aside, Chion walked over to the bag and picked it up. Quickly unzipping it, the youth began rummaging through the innards, pulling and setting things to the side.

A wad of cash totaling around $10,000, an assortment of clothes that just happened to be his exact size, a bow and quiver of arrows, three jars filled with a green flame, and many other things. Even with how packed the backpack was, it was still surprising how much equipment and items were stuffed in its confines, some even exceeding the bags limit like the bow and arrows. At this point, however, Chion was very open-minded, excepting the irrationalities as they came. The bag could fit more than it appeared, and that was the end of the story.

"I don't need the bow and arrow right now. I doubt they'd let me in the store with it." Chion looked through the things he had pulled out, putting them back one at a time. "I'll figure it out once I got some food. Looks like I don't have to steal anymore."

There were a couple more things that caught Chion's eyes like a batch of weird colored pudding, a bronze necklace of a snowflake (of which he decided to put on), and a compass that didn't point in any particular direction, but the white-haired individual disregarded them. Shoving everything back into the backpack, the teenager zipped it up and shouldered it. It was deceptively heavy, considering its size, but not so much that the amnesiac was truly bothered by it.

(("Only thing to do now is figure things out as I go.")) Chion let out a breath, cold vapor mingling in the hot air. (("Just keep moving forward."))

//Sorry this is so short. I just wanted to write some sort of Prologue to kick us off. The next few chapters will be much longer.

But yeah, I hope you enjoyed and I'll have the next chapter out in a bit.