Sheffield’s arms find only air where you had been just moments before. Strengthened by equal parts fear and terror, you fly past third and sprint toward home. An armored body rises from the dirt ahead as you run down the base line. A rotting face surrounded by a cage of metal, the padding covering his hulking form, makes the catcher seem like a giant as he stands. He lowers himself down into a squat, feet digging in as you continue toward him. Just before the plate, you slide. You hear the snap of his femur breaking and the sound of fabric tearing as your momentum propels you on in a cloud of dust. Your head slams into the ground, and you look back to see Surhoff. Legs useless and bent beneath him as he claws at the dirt trying to stand. As your vision starts to blur, you fumble for a bat. With a mighty cut, you remove his head cleanly from his body. The world around you goes black, the last thing you see is a blood-soaked creature moving toward you...
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