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As the sun dips slowly beyond the horizon, a slight chill grips the air, crushing the fragile vocal chords of the wind. Silence. You pad along the edge of the woods, almost daring yourself to step into the trees. Fear grips your brain, a mind-numbing sensation that completely controls your body until even the hairs along your spine begin to prickle uncomfortably. An almost full moon glares down at you. Laughing at you. Seeing you with eyes bold enough to slice through the flesh and down to the bone. Sparkling in the distance, you spot a lake, silver as the wind, a mirror to the moon. Ignoring your fears, you feel your body begin to run. Run to the lake. Quench you thirst in its pure waters. Only a few feet left... STOP. 'Twas no lake you thought you were seeing, but the cold, hungry eyes of the business end of a shotgun. Run.. Your spinning mind beckons, and in seconds, as you flee the opposite direction, you hear the man fade away. He wasn't hunting you. Nothing to worry about. Looking toward the moon for comfort, you recoil almost instantly. You had forgotten its icy stare. Like a ghost waiting patiently for something to come along and take it's place. Empty eyes, marking the craters along its rugged surface. Your head turns slowly away, tearing your gaze from it's stoney glare. Death is a midnight runner... A voice creeps quietly into your mind and it only takes a few moments before you realize it is your own. Is it now that even your concious wants you dead? No. Couldn't be. Simply a trick of the mind. Child's play. Right? Wrong.. Who is this playing with you now? No way would your mind ever try to trick you for so long, would it? It's not that unforgiving, is it? Soft as burning embers, the wind begins to howl. Mournfully. Painfully. As if each breath is forced. 'Why are you doing this to me?!?' You shout to nothing, though your voice carries the same tone as the wind. Like a plea for help. A curse for vengence. It carries itself to nowhere. It shows itself to no one. Or I can wait here, if you like.. A smooth, fragile voice sounds behind you. Lures you. Calms your fears. A whisper woven into velvet. 'Who are you?' you inquire softly, not wanting to break the silent void growing steady between you and stranger. You find her hard to see, her pelt ebony as the shadows. But her eyes. Ivory as a morning dove. That is not important. What is important, is that you are lost. In need of a new home. A new life... Her words tingle at the fringes of your brain, beckoning your attention. What say you? Do you stay, or do you leave.... |
