Creature--Vanessa

All she could remember was, You’ll sense him...it. You’ll know it’s coming and all you can do at that point is run.

But what else had he told her? What was its weakness?

As she reached a clearing, she stopped, rapping her bloodied knuckles against her forehead and trying her hardest to remember.

Not everyone escapes, he had said. In fact, only four ever have.

Her thoughts were interrupted by that feeling again. That icy chill that’s become so familiar, the one that makes her breaths turn to clouds right in front of her. It was catching up.

She looked up and saw that there were three paths in front of her. She slumped her shoulders and let out a groan.  

How Frost-esque, she thought.

She chose the one farthest to the right and took off. Her lungs burned from the hours of running and with none of the hatches she was told held shelter in sight, she was losing her strength. And her will to keep going.

She ran and ran, her heavy breaths the only sounds in her ears. Until she felt it once again.

Just keep going.

But this time, the feeling grew stronger with each step she took.

It’s all in my head, she thought. Eventually, it’ll go away again.

But it didn’t, and each step drained her more and more.

Not now. Not after all this time and pointless running, it couldn’t take her now.

Her thoughts were interrupted once more as she stumbled on a tree root, her ankle twisting as she failed miserably trying to catch herself with the trunk. A yelp of pain escaped her mouth at the same time she looked down to see the bone sticking out of her foot, and at once she saw why, after all this time, she had suddenly been so stupid as to stumble over a tiny root.

She was shrinking, how could she possibly be shrinking?

The world loomed over her now. She lay sprawled atop a dry, crinkled leaf, its color indistinguishable in the darkness.

Where else could she go?

There was nowhere, only endless forest and brush. She heard the snap of a twig behind her. A grunt. The snapping became faster and louder, and all she could do was lay there shaking, shivering on her small, lonely leaf. Then, slowly, something began to lift the bottom of the leaf, taking her along with it. She held her breath and shut her eyes until the wind whooshing alongside her ears came to a halt, and there was silence.  

There’s nothing more I can do, she realized. This is the end.

Suddenly, an easiness washed over her. She stopped shivering, her shallow breathing deepened, and for the first time since the eternal chase started, her muscles relaxed.

She rolled her shoulders back, raised her head, and looked straight into the lifeless pits of the creature’s eyes, something he told her never to do; a last act of defiance.