...Darkness...
...Pant...Pant...Pant...Pant...
The rhythmic stomping of a young woman's dash along the forest floor SNAPS irrelevant twigs. A full moon beams through thousands of empty eyes between overhead leaves, showing her the way. Fast approaching branches grasp desperately at brown fabric, tearing open cotton and sweaty, tan flesh.
"Dead. All. Dead. Can't... Stop. Keep... Running," the exerted, vomit-covered girl forces her eighteen-year-old body to power through mind-numbing events replaying in her head; the same ones that led to her current sprint through the Forbidden Forest.
Weaving between trunks, the loose bun in her hair is snatched by a branch. Shrieking in terror, searching for the villain that has ensnared her, she finds herself alone. Looking up with an embarrassed grunt of relief, she grabs her hair and the branch, rips herself free, then continues her escape.
Matted, raven strands bounce off the back of a knee-length, wrap-tie dress while grungy cheeks taste an endless stream of grief and panic until dirty knuckles swipe away blurred vision. The space inside her chest surrounding a rapid beating heart burns with the humid weight of every RAGGED inhale. Refusing the moment of instant gratification by taking a break in hopes of catching her breath, she thinks of what a mistake like that could cost her.
Sobbing harder, she stumbles, losing the woven sandal previously clutching her right foot. Though it fought valiantly, it proved no match for the vacuum of a deep, mud puddle. Metal collides with wood in a menacing ECHO, casting an unearthly chill down her damp, goose-pimple spine at the reminder of their close proximity.
Three sets of footsteps torment her, haunt her, motivate her to move faster at jerking her foot free to bolt. A dry gulp brings painful dissatisfaction to a sore throat, the discomfort tolerable enough to endure pushing herself harder with the idea of making it out the other side of this alive.
Don't... Look back. One foot... In front... The other!
Repeating her father's words for when things get tough, it becomes a mantra to keep her focused on the highest priority-- safety.
Slowing to a stop, she reaches a wall of darkness under green canopies and endless vines as far as the eye can see in both directions. Trying her hardest not to scream in agonizing frustration, she grabs a hold of the vines and shakes, looking up and around to see she is working beyond the moon's light.
Refusing to let the pursuit end here only to be forced into a humiliating existence until death, she bites back the fear that challenges the abyss hiding her in order to clear her mind and focus. Heaving breaths are left in the dust by a heart that bangs like a war drum when she relentlessly rips, snatches, and claws at the unusually smooth topiary.
EEEEK!
She jumps back, a -slither- rustling through the vines near where her hand was.
Are these things moving?! I can't see! Was it an animal?!
Grinding her teeth in an anxious despair to remain quiet, tears stream down the apple of her cheeks, I can't scream or they'll find me. And if I stop they'll find me!
Returning to animalistic digging for the sake of survival, she demands for her body to listen to the will of her mind: Go! GO! GOOO!
She triumphs over the blackness looming at the 'off limits' volcanic mountain. Tripping into a clearing under the face of a round, blue moon, she collapses when the thong sandal on her left foot breaks. Using her forearms and knees as a brace, she hits the ground with a THUD and echoing, "Ouch."
Turning to peer along an endless, pebble-soil path separating mountainous stone walls and the forest, she blinks away tears. Retching at the despicable weight of her throbbing limbs, cinnamon eyes widen as she rolls on her side and bends until she can inspect the nefarious rustling of leaves at the forest-line.
Strained eyes burn as she stares into the black void, anticipating the moment their bodies fill the opening. Terrified yet uncomfortably relieved, vines wriggle to creep around one another, leaving no trace of her destructive exit.
How the–?! I'll take the blessing but…if I got through… I -know- three men can.
Groaning, she retraces a visually infinite path on both sides. To her left she notices a boulder shrine ten yards (thirty feet) away, across the road. Adorned with colorful, weathered fabrics, its solid body rests surrounded by pieces of rusted metal, painted clay, and bone fragments, she crawls towards it.
Growling away the tremble that nearly paralyzes her legs across the short distance, she loses power with every breath. Wheezing back the dizziness threatening to steal her consciousness, she tiredly surveys the area for any oncoming danger.
Too stubborn to give in to distressed muscles spasming under dry, dusty skin, gravel digs into exposed flesh and fills the crevices of her dress. This moment marks the final straw of pain that sends her over the edge into a blissful numbness.
Nowhere…to hide... Can't believe...they chased… So far...
At risk of following the ringing in her ears to a deafening emptiness of unfulfilled rest, she heaves herself up with a straining grunt, pebbled dirt dribbling from pits in ash-covered skin.
Using the shrine as a brace to stay off the ground, she hunches against the solid foundation and buries her face into torn, dirty sleeves. Wailing with a mournful echo loud enough to make the heavens weep, she shudders at the welcomed moment of peace before exhaling breaths of unrestrained emotion.
A cold splash hits the top of her ear peeking through a tousled, black sea, pulling the girl from dismal thoughts in time to sense a presence nearby.
Drying tears on her sleeve with a disturbed, shallow breath, she is encompassed by a shadowy silhouette.
"Why?"
A man's voice startles her lungs into her throat, silencing her screech as his question fails to register.
They got me?!
Sniffling, taking a steadying breath, she cautiously presses her palms together against the rock and bows her head.
I tried so hard, mom. I'm so sorry. I'll see everyone soo--!
His voice carries no discernible plan when he interrupts her internal lament, "Human, why do you cry on my mountain?"
…human?...
Throwing herself to the ground at his mercy, groveling with eyes shut, she stifles suffering behind hoarse words, "I'm sorry... For crying. Please," she swallows and gasps, her nose filling with sticky snot in the midst of gathering her thoughts.
"His" mountain? Well...whatever he is…
Clutching the gray, rocky earth with a prayer, "Please don't hurt me," she finds herself desperate for a solution over the baffling new threat that has risen from thin air.
Cringing at the silence following the muffle plea of her soul, she wonders if her barely audible beg even reached the stranger's ears.
Did I really wake a mountain spirit?... If I knew he was here, I would've just gave up!
Crying harder, choking on whispering sobs, Which is the lesser of two evils?!
Too scared to raise her head and meet the face of her present dilemma, she yearns for a divine gift that will remove her from this entire situation and magically put everything back to normal.
Branches SNAP a short distance away.
Blood heats her ears, hysteria tunnels her vision, and every standing hair follicle needles glistening skin at the sight of cut vines shriveling before a man enters the clearing. Wearing dark-blue trousers tied at the waist and cinched around ankles above thong shoes, his dark breastplate weakly reflects moonlight.
Recognizing him through burning, watery eyes as the man that boasted taking advantage of her until he grew bored, dark eyes glint with sadistic joy. Thin, pink lips surrounded by dark, coarse hair twists into a menacing grin that screams bad intentions.
Clouds shift above, imposing upon the moon's incandescence and briefly reminding her of the rain as its scent overpowers the aroma of vomit filling her nostrils. Stepping onto the path with a long sword drawn, his scratched, metal blade comes into the light. Grabbing the fabric at her chest, scuttling backward on jelly limbs until the touch of frigid stone jolts through her like a fatal blow, a second silhouette emerges.
Airways constrict as she watches the man who killed her mother enter the clearing behind his comrade, the sight of his dubious, arrogant smile pushing the mountain stranger to the farthest side of her mind.
Incapable of drawing in another breath, a third, tall and lanky man wielding a bow and arrow completes the trio. Flinching at every step they take in slow motion, she sits in defeat with her young life flashing before her.
Disappointed by the missed opportunities that could have prevented this very moment, she mutters under her breath, "I was wrong..."
...I'm not meant for anything great. My whole life was...pointless…
Closing her eyes and slumping to the ground, awaiting a painfully unknown future, she rests her forehead on folded hands.
Shaking her head, relying on the muscle memory of a lifetime of prayer, she goes out on a limb for the first time in her existence to ask the gods of this land for help.