Prey

The night is still and cold, the moon a mere sickle throwing the weakest light upon the world. It is silent but for the crunch of snow beneath unprotected feet.

She ran through the night as fast as she could, struggling to keep from panting too loudly. Her breath burned like fire. Sweat poured down her back despite the frigid temperatures.

Her bare toes froze through long ago. She could barely feel the bloodied lacerations anymore.

The rustling of brush behind her made the hairs on the nape of her neck stand on end. She pushed herself harder, frantically searching the darkness, but the unrelenting blackness of the forest gave no relief.

She could hear the sound of the highway but could see no lights. There was no hope, nobody around to hear screams for help. So she kept running, ignoring the sounds of pursuit behind her.

The man’s boots are heavy. They make so much noise now, it’s obvious he is close behind. So close she could practically feel his thick fingers brushing against her.

Her heart pounded so hard she feared it would burst right from her ribcage and all this running and pain would be for not.

With that thought, she pushed harder still.

“Stop!”

The words boom through the night like a shotgun blast. Against her better judgment, she glances behind her. The blood rushes from her head to her very toes. He is so close now.

She whips back around but the damage has been done. Her distraction costs her.

A fallen log looms in her path and at her pace, she cannot stop herself. Momentum carries her forward.

Frozen toes catch on wood. Nails tear from nail beds but it merely fades into the agony of the rest of her body. Physics throws her so violently that she tumbles legs over head.

She soars into a clearing.

The world pauses with her as her body hits the ground.

In those seconds it is as though nothing exists. She is untethered to herself. It is a beautiful thing.

But reality intrudes all too quickly.

Her body lay below a sliver of light beneath the moon’s cheshire cat grin. It hangs mockingly in the clear sky, unconcerned by her silvery blond hair and long white nightgown, now slowly filling with crimson from various wounds.

She stares up at the sky, eyes slit, wheezing from pain and nerves. Playing dead, though it is useless.

The man bursts through the treeline behind her, skidding to a halt at the sight of her.

It is quiet again, save for the call in the distance of a lone barn owl in search of its prey. And, of course, the crunch of snow.

Another predator is readying for its prey.

The man’s silhouette blocks the smirking moon. He kneels down next to her. He shakes his head almost pityingly as he observes her broken body. He leans down, gloved hand reaching for her neck.

Her breath stops in her chest. Her body tenses.

Leather presses against her throat, gently, almost like a lover’s caress. For a frozen moment she leans into the touch. His warmth breaks through the chill that has cut through her very bones.

“Are you-?”

Her eyes snap open, wide, wider than normal. A cheshire grin of her own stretches across her pale face.

The man startles, realizing too late that there is something very wrong here. A flash of silver interrupts the darkness and gasping interrupts the silence.

A muffled thud, and then no more.

A barn owl calls in the distance. A victorious sound.

The predator has caught its prey.