Hall of Infinite Doors

A crash inside confirmed it, so the farmer, came out of his shed and gave a death glare to John. "I told you not to go in the basement!" He screamed. John wasn't really listening. He threw his wallet at the farmer and mounted his motorcycle carefully. He could see blue fur through the open doorway.

John revved up his motorcycle, and began to ride. He sped onto the road and could hear the front of the house shutter as the blue monkey broke free. The monkey must have climbed the wall under the staircase, John cursed. He could see the blue monkey following him now. He watched his speedometer. It was at forty miles an hour, but the monkey seemed to be catching up with frightening speed.

John hit the gas and watched his speedometer hit sixty, seventy and eighty. Now that the blue monkey was on dry land, it was very quick. Slowly the monkey gained on John. John stopped watching his speedometer and watched the monkey as he hit the gas. The monkey matched his speed. His leg was bothering him, and he could feel what he suspected to be a bone pressing against the inside of his skin. Tears of pain were wiped away from the great winds of his motorcycle.

John didn't know where he was going, exactly. He thought of going to a hospital, but what protection from the monkey would that add? He started to notice small buildings fly by him with greater and greater frequency. He looked back, and watched the blue monkey. It was still with him, a look of determination and hate on its face. John looked back, and saw a turn.

He tried to turn his motorcycle, but it was too sharp a turn for the speed he was riding at. The motorcycle turned sideways and he was partially crushed by it. The motorcycle slid into a tree, where he was pinned. The pain was unbearable, and John screamed at the top of his lungs.

The blue monkey slowed down, now, and watched John screaming with interest. Slowly the monkey moved towards him. John could go nowhere, he was pinned to a tree. Consciousness began to slip from him due to his lack of blood. He remembered he had thrown his wallet at the old farmer to appease him, but now there would be no way of identifying him if he died.
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