Its cold, foggy and slightly windy. The moist air hovering over the knee high grass seems to never reveal its secrets. The wind is hissing through the dark forest with trees standing closely next to each other as if they would form a wall against th...
After enjoing a hot cup of tea, which she bought with her, she carefully climbed down thewooden ledder again. As lost in her thoughts as she was, she forgot about the broken step and fell into a barbed wire.
She heard her ankle crack a little,but even tho it sounded truly terrifying, she felt nearly no pain. But the sound of her ankle was not the only sound she heard. Her trousers were ripped at the bottom...but at that point she didn't even care anymore.
Slowely she started to move towards the hut she already saw from up on the hunting chair. She was unusually out of breath, had the little fall from the chair really affected her so much or was the slightly bad and anxious feeling ,she began to notice forming, the real reason? From an outstanding perspective it probably seemed like nothing was wrong, but her uncertainty grew with every step she took towards the dark appearing hut, around 120m away from her.
She heard an even ticking from a far. It weirdly seemed to fit into the more and more dark landscape, it appeared like it belonged there and so she didn't pay any more attention to it.
A mistake.
The thought about turning around and drive home, was quickly out of her mind as she was more and more summoned to the strange hut, she never noticed before. It was hidden behind a few trees and had nearly the same colour as them.
The branches were breaking under her steps, making loud noises which caused her to flinch a few times, and the wind roughly brushed through her hair, parting it into tiny strands.
Strands. A word she would hear quite often the following days.
She looked around and saw the sun, nearly completely gone, now disappearing behind a massive cloud. It got cold all of a sudden and she started to shiver in her thin cardigan. Why would she even leave her warming jacket back at the hunting chair, she thought to herself.
Goose bumps started to form all over her body and she saw the skin behind her finger nails slowly turn to a bluish purple, just as they always did when her body temperature started dropping marginal.
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She hurrried as she walked in the direction of the hut. She was now pretty close to it. But was that a bad or a good thing?
Everything in her head told her to stop and run for her dear life, but the curiosity won the battle inside her, and she carried on step by step.
She came closer. And closer.
40 meter distance now.
30 meter
20
Hold on, was that a smal giggle, a laugh?
She decited at that very moment that it was time for her to turn 180° and sprint as fast as she could.
But well she couldn't.
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She was standing there like grown to the ground. She couldn't move an inch even tho she wanted to be as far away from this place as possible.
Something hold her in place, to the place which was so irresistable to be at and still so terrifying that she wanted nothing more to peel out of her skin and sink into the ground.
Powerless, like all strenght she ever had just left, she stand as she saw an old man walking towards her.
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Not like extremely old, he looked like he was still strong enough to hurt someone noticeably.
His eyes told the same, they were dark grey and cold, like they didn't care to see blood, pain and death and like no tear ever left them.
His eyes. They stared directly into her soul.
And his lips. He wore a creepy smile on them. As if he never felt regret or shame.
He had bags under his eyes and his heal slightly tilted downwards.
The wrinkles and scars in his skin were clearly visible in the dimmed light of the nearly full moon.
He jumped forward, faster than expected.
She reacted quickly and broke out of her rigid.
She turned arround, but the old man was fast. He gripped on to her cardigan.
She stripped it off and kept on running. Her vision started to blurr from the lack of oxygen her brain was receiving due to her uncontrolled, fast breathing.
After, what felt like endless time running straight forward without any destenation, she suddenly heard a voice behind her, the same time the fast, booming steps running behind her stopped.
And so did she. She truly didn't want to, but she was so out of breath that she would collapse instantly if she ran another 10 metres.
The voice behind her, which obviously belonged to the old man, was dark and vibrating.
His words were sometimes cut in half by a quick breath, but she could still understand every thing he said.
Loud and roaring was the echo from his voice in her ear.
"I have your little jacket- and I'm gonna get the rest"- followed by a restrained laugh.
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