The moon barely illuminated the uneven path, and the trees of the forest rose like shadowy giants around them. The branches creaked underfoot, though the girl tried to make no noise.
They ran. Or at least, she did. Her father, behind her, stumbled as if every step was agony.
—Dad! You have to keep going! —Her words escaped in frantic whispers, but she knew he was on the verge of collapse. Blood dripped from the wound in his side, staining the ground as he tried to keep his hand pressed tightly against it.
"He can't keep going... not for much longer." The thought thudded through her mind like a dull blow. Her small body trembled not only from the cold but from the fear threatening to consume her. "What will I do if he falls?"
Her father, pale and drenched in sweat, tripped, and his legs finally gave way, toppling him to the ground with a dull thud.
—No! —The girl knelt beside him, desperately trying to lift him. But her trembling hands could barely move him. "He's too big… too heavy…"
—Go on... —her father murmured, his voice choked with pain—. Don't... don't wait for me.
—I can't leave you! —Tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them back. "We can't stop... they're close."
The sound of approaching footsteps took their breath away. The girl's heart pounded furiously, and her body tensed. "They're already here."
Out of the shadows of the forest, a group emerged. They wore clothes almost identical to theirs, but theirs were clean, as if they hadn't suffered a scratch during the chase. There was something cruel in the way they moved, in the way they watched them.
—Dad... —Her voice was barely a whisper.—Please, get up…
The pursuers let out a bitter, mocking laugh. Her father, barely conscious, lay on the ground, while the girl planted herself between him and them, her small body tense with desperation.
—Did you really think you could escape? —said one of the men with a cruel smile, his eyes glinting with malice as he looked at the girl.—How pathetic.
The hatred in his words was palpable, and the girl felt it like a slap. Her heart pounded, but she did not step back. She took a step forward, her fists clenched, trembling but firm.
—We don't want anything from you, —she said, her voice trembling but clear. —We just want to leave… you'll never see us again, I promise. I don't understand why... —her voice broke for a moment,—...why you hate us so much.
One of the pursuers, taller and with icy eyes, stepped forward. He slowly unsheathed his sword, the sound of metal sliding from the scabbard sending a chill down the girl's spine.
His eyes locked onto hers, cold and filled with contempt.
—Why? —His voice was low, but the venom in his words was overwhelming. —Your existence is a disgrace to the clan. You should have been grateful for the mercy of our ancestors, who allowed you to live out of sight of everyone. But instead of keeping quiet, you had the audacity to run... as if your pathetic life was worth anything.
The man took another step forward, raising the sword over his head, like a judge about to deliver a sentence.
—Ingrates. Selfish. You didn't care about ruining the honor generations built. Your life... your father's... are a mockery to the clan's prestige. If you had remained submissive within our walls, maybe you would have survived. But now...
He paused, his cruel, sadistic smile widening as he lowered the sword slowly, pointing it at her.
—Now, only death awaits you.
The girl felt a knot in her stomach. Helplessness consumed her, her small fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her skin.
Blood began to seep from her palms, and her lips as she bit them hard, trying to hold back the tears and fear threatening to overflow.
"It's not fair," she thought as her body trembled with helplessness.
The executioner, with his sword still raised, was only a few steps away from her, with a cold, calculating gaze, when a roar tore through the air.
—Watch out! —one of his companions shouted.
The executioner barely had time to react when a massive beast, its eyes glowing with hunger and fur stained with blood, lunged at him from the darkness. He managed to dodge the attack by a hair, but chaos had already begun.
Growls and shrieks filled the air. The beasts, drawn by the scent of death, surrounded them. They weren't few; they were many. Too many.
Her father's blood, lying wounded on the ground, had called the pack, and now they pounced on them without fear, determined to relish the hunt. Not just out of hunger, but out of a primal instinct for destruction.
—Damn beasts! —one of the men shouted, raising his sword against one of the creatures, but he barely had time to defend himself before another one knocked him down, tearing him apart with its jaws.
The girl watched in horror as the men around her fought for their lives. The growls of the beasts, the cries of pain from the men, and the clash of metal against flesh created a terrifying cacophony. She wanted to move, to do something, but her feet were anchored to the ground by fear.
—Run, —her father's voice snapped her out of her stupor. She saw him, injured, barely standing, but with a determined look.—Run! —he repeated urgently.
She shook her head, tears filling her eyes.
—I can't... —her voice was barely a whisper, choked by despair.
—You have to go! —Her father gave her a slight push, staggering. —Run now! I'll be right behind you!... I'll catch up, I promise.
She hesitated for only a second, but her instinct forced her to move. Her legs, though trembling, began to run.
The world around her was a whirlwind of shadows and noise, and adrenaline kept her from feeling the pain in her bare, dirty feet. "Dad will catch up… he promised… he promised," she thought over and over.
The leader of the pursuers roared in fury:
—Don't let her escape!
One of the men, after dispatching one of the beasts with a brutal sword blow, quickly changed tactics. With precise movements, he drew a bow and nocked an arrow, aiming with deadly determination at the small figure fleeing into the distance.
The girl, running with all her strength, felt the cold air burn her lungs. "Dad will catch up… he promised," she repeated in her mind like a mantra. She couldn't allow herself to look back, couldn't stop.
But her father, despite his fatigue and wounds, saw the threat at the last moment. The deadly gleam of the arrow aimed at his daughter pierced his soul with more pain than any wound he already carried.
"No… not my daughter…" Without thinking, he summoned the last of his strength and, stumbling, ran after her.
Everything happened in a second. The sound of the bowstring tightening, the subtle whistle of the arrow cutting through the air. The father, with a guttural cry filled with desperation, threw himself toward his daughter, placing himself between her and the arrow.
The projectile pierced his back, puncturing his heart and emerging from his chest. His rusted sword fell to the ground with a dull thud as his body, heavy and defeated, succumbed to death.
The girl heard that dull sound, a body collapsing to the ground, and something inside her broke.
"No… it can't be…"
The air became unbreathable. The indescribable pain that coursed through her was like poison in her veins. Her heart stopped for an instant, refusing to accept what had happened. With wide eyes, she turned, and time seemed to stop when she saw there, on the ground, her father lying still, with an arrow sticking out of his back.
Blood began to soak the earth beneath him, like a dark and silent sentence.
—No… —The whisper escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Everything around her faded. The beasts, the screams, the pursuers. Nothing existed anymore except that image: her father, fallen, in a terrifying stillness.
—Dad! —The heartbreaking scream tore from her throat before she could stop it. She ran towards him, her legs moving purely out of desperation, ignoring the safety distance might offer.
She knelt beside him, her trembling hands desperately trying to turn him over. But his body, always strong and protective, was now a heavy weight she couldn't move.
—Dad, please… please, wake up... —she begged, her voice breaking, unable to hold back the tears now streaming freely down her cheeks.—You said you'd be right behind me… you said you'd catch up… Dad!
She shook him gently, then harder, but he didn't respond.
The pain in her chest spread like an uncontrolled fire; every beat of her heart was like a hammer blow to her soul. She shook him again, harder, hoping... pleading... that he would open his eyes.
—No… don't leave me... —she whispered, her body trembling with the pain that crushed her from within.—I can't do it alone…
But there was no answer.
The girl buried her face in her father's back, hugging him desperately, as if she could bring him back to life with her love alone. But he didn't move.
The archer, enraged by the interruption, quickly loaded another arrow onto his bow. His eyes, full of anger and frustration, locked onto the small figure of the girl still kneeling beside her father's body.
With steady hands and ruthless determination, he drew the bowstring, aiming directly at his target.
Just as he was about to release, a guttural roar made him turn his head, but it was too late. Two beasts, with blood-soaked fangs, lunged at him with savage force.
The archer let out a scream of pain as claws tore through his flesh, and in the chaos, the arrow was released, veering off course due to the violent struggle.
The projectile flew erratically through the air, but its fate was sealed.
The girl felt a brutal blow to her chest, a sharp pain that stole her breath. The arrow had embedded itself in her left side, and the impact sent her sprawling onto her back.
For a moment, everything fell silent. Her breath hitched, and the world around her faded into a haze of confusion.
But to her, the wound didn't matter. Her mind remained trapped in the only image she could see: her father, lying still on the ground.
With a mix of strength and desperation, she stretched her bloodied hand toward him, trying to reach him, but her body could no longer keep up with her will.
Her cracked lips, stained with blood, whispered between sobs.
—Please... wake up... please...
The leader of the pursuers, watching the chaos unfold around him, felt a deep, searing hatred. His men lay dead or being devoured by the beasts, their screams of desperation drowned by the sound of flesh being torn from bone.
The mission had failed, and with it, his honor.
But seeing the girl still struggling to kneel beside her father's corpse, something dark and primal ignited within him. A hatred so deep that even imminent death couldn't stop him.
To him, she was the cause of it all. A stain that needed to be erased.
"All of this is her fault... her very existence is a curse..." he thought, as the beasts' jaws closed around him, ripping pieces of his cloak and biting into his limbs. But the hatred made him immune to the pain.
With irrational fury, he no longer cared about his own life or the imminent threat of the beasts around him. His only desire was to end the girl, blaming her for everything. Gritting his teeth, he forced his way through the claws and bites of the creatures, barely dodging the attacks that rained down on him.
Each step he took was a curse, a cry of contained hatred.
He approached the girl, staggering but determined. Each step brought him closer, and his curses and accusations echoed in his mind. "This is all your fault... you and your damned father..."
The girl, lost in her own grief, didn't notice him. Her trembling hands, covered in blood, clutched her father's cold body, trying to move him, hoping for the impossible.
—Please... dad..." she sobbed. —You said you'd catch up to me... you said you wouldn't leave me alone... don't leave me, please...
The leader reached her, his eyes filled with hatred, and raised his sword above his head.
"It ends now," he thought.
He had no intention of showing mercy. He wanted to end everything, to sentence her, and satisfy his thirst for vengeance. With a cry, he swung a fatal blow, aiming to sever the girl's neck.