Author's Note: Looking back, this is probably one of my least favorites of my work. I was half-asleep when I wrote it, honestly. If you're looking for something better but also mystical and romantic, I think From the Woods captures that a bit better.
by Deanna CoultonTheme: Death
Word Count: 500
The huntress stalked her prey: a man both alone and afraid. He was terrified of the strange noises that creaked and screamed from somewhere beyond the red trunks and violet leaves. In the horizon, there was black. Pure black – and nothing else to be seen.
To make matters worse, he couldn't remember anything.
In watching him turn in frantic circles, she found a small pleasure and almost uttered a chuckle.
Alas, had she made a sound, it might spoil her fun. Her heart knew a joy of this hunt more deep than the black abyss that might have been the sky of this world.
Still, she could not lie to herself – the thrill of the chase had been defeated by the anticipation of capturing her prey.
After hours of running, the man found himself worn and aching. He made a bed of lavender leaves and rested for a minute or two, unbeknownst of the presence of the tireless vixen that watched him still.
The feather-like grace of her landing upon the azure ground did not wake him. Instead, she would wait with the patience of a predator for him to regain of his own will.
As expected, the sight of her sent him rushing with a pressuring chill.
“Run if you'd like,” her soft voice finally spoke, worn and rusted from staying silent and spared.
He stopped at the sound of a human tongue, but gave no response and remained still as a petrified rodent in the eyes of a panther.
“You'll find no solace in this world. Why not take a chance and take my hand?” She offered a delicate palm that was quickly chastised by long, thorn-like nails. He found no welcoming in this gesture, but the howls and groans of the hunched trees gave him no greater tranquility.
He reached out his own trembling hand, extending his arm to the eyes of what may have been hell itself.
Hesitation didn't exist for the claws that gripped his hand and brought him into the void he desperately feared. He was sure that he would become one of the creaking screams that tormented the next unlucky being.
“Open your eyes,” said a soft, familiar voice that was accompanied by a gentle stroke against his cheek.
He obeyed, but his eyes would mist at the sight before him. Surrounded by a garishly proud light was a radiant and beautiful woman.
Her smiling face echoed the memories of when their hands joined, a decade ago, at an alter.
The mist in his eyes became forceful tears as his once shaken arms grew steady around the waist of the angel before him.
“We've made it together,” she whispered in his ear, “welcome to a world where you shall have no fear.”
Discord
Light Style