Gabriel Bergmoser

“Looking for experience was a beautiful idea when you were lying on a couch reading Kerouac in your share house; less so when your determination to just follow the road only meant ending up on more road.”
― Gabriel Bergmoser, The Hunted

“before, a slicing, tearing burning in her right leg that made her crumple and bite down on her wrist, drawing blood before she would let herself scream. She fell hard against the metal of the car. She tried to move but something held fast, something that wrenched at her leg. Her ears rang. She reached down and felt her ankle. That was a mistake. The pain seared again as she felt the metal jaws and jagged teeth that had snapped shut on her leg. A trap, left for anyone trying to use this car to escape. And she had been stupid enough to try. Gritting her teeth, her eyes streaming and the occasional whimper escaping no matter how hard she tried, she pulled apart the trap. She felt metal tearing at flesh and even the smallest effort to rest weight on her leg made her want to collapse. The trigger mechanism she’d stepped on raised and clicked back into place, the trap an open circle of serrated metal again. She moved clear, pulling herself up on the car, then she heard snarling and grunting that seemed to come out of nowhere.”
― Gabriel Bergmoser, The Hunted