"Not well, I'd wager." -- Spontaneous fiction from Fall 2011

In the moment that he looked over his shoulder, he noticed...or felt...that he was surrounded. "No way out of this one," he thought to himself. Resigning himself to action (and quite possibly, a great deal of hurt...for him and his mysterious followers), he took a couple deep breaths, and called out, "Alright, you can come out now. I know you've been following me. I smelled you, four blocks back, and that is really amazing, considering the part of town, we find ourselves in. Why don't you just show yourself, and we can get the party started. What do you say?"

He was prepared to kick some major ass, and if nothing else, injure a few, before they took him down. Hell, he might even kill a couple of these...whatever he was smelling...before they got him. He thought he was prepared. What happened next, he was decidedly not prepared for, and it almost knocked him on his ass. What stepped from the shadows, was scarier than anything he could have ever imagined. How would you react to multiple versions of yourself...some more human looking than other...all staring at you, and smiling? Not well, I'd wager.