Versus Imitator #2

The chaos seeped into the emptiness.

"Why did you save them?" A familiar eldritch voice rang in my head.

"You never told me your name," I replied, dazed.

"It's unpronounceable," said Yoghfdcjrwsss.

"Oh. I see your point."

"Anyways, fucking leg it, then! I have, well, it's better to say I had very high hopes for you," Yoghfdcjrwsss spoke, concerned for my survival.

Nothing happened, and I was back.

I couldn't catch my breath as I sprinted out of town, knocking over bazaar stalls, expensive fabrics, and anything I could and did trip over. The Imitator was hot on my heels.

"You've gotten stronger." Yoghfdcjrwsss floated. A figment of my imagination.

"Why didn't my skill activate?" Tears streamed down my face. Sweat ran down my aching legs.

"I disabled it. You don't need it to shit on the Imitator. Peace." And Yoghfdcjrwsss faded into the ether.

The sound of explosions meant the Imitator was getting closer.

"I'm going to dieeeeeeeeeeeeee" despite the warmness, I was shivering. Kicked-up debris kept raining down.

Every fifteen steps, a house behind me got pulverized, and the Imitator leaped up, looking for me. With tenacity like that, how did the players ever drive him away?

No, he must have left on his own accord. He must be weak somewhere. I grabbed a beam of broken wood and javelin-tossed it behind. It instantly disintegrated. Yet, the Imitator still could not detect me.

This was my final gamble. I rounded a corner and ran into a farmer's market. I dove into the trough of a pigsty and held my breath.