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The river was contaminated, the animals had gone mad. Some zombie bears were running towards my cabin. I knew I had to get out of there, but how? The only way out was through the forest, and that was where the bears were. I had to think of something fast. I looked around my cabin for anything I could use as a weapon. There was an axe in the corner, but it was too heavy for me to use. I saw a baseball bat in the closet, but it was too flimsy. Then I saw it: a long, sturdy stick. It was perfect. I grabbed the stick and ran out of the cabin. The bears were close behind, but I was faster. I ran through the forest, the bears close on my heels. I could hear them growling and snorting, their hot breath on my neck. I ran as fast as I could, but I knew I couldn't keep it up for long. The bears were gaining on me. I had to do something drastic. I stopped running and turned to face the bears. They were surprised to see me stop, but they didn't stop running. They came at me, their teeth bared. I raised the stick and swung it at the nearest bear. The stick connected with the bear's head, and it fell to the ground with a thud. The other bears stopped and looked at me in surprise. I swung the stick again, and this time I hit a bear in the shoulder. The bear roared in pain and backed away. The other bears turned and ran. I had defeated them. I turned and ran back to my cabin. I was safe, but I knew I wouldn't be safe for long. The bears would be back, and next time they might not be so easy to defeat.
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