Valmoor

Chapter Two:

ZACK MURPHY P.O.V:

I shot awake as a scream penetrated my REM sleep disrupting my every thought that happened during the night. However, when my eyes cracked opening there was only blurred images of colours that surrounding me. Nothing came into strong focus just wild shades of green, untamed browns and flakes of bright white light. I begged my voice to answer the wail, but my whisper was lost in the gale force winds that flooded my body. I could not speak. My eyes couldn’t remain open for long and as a result I faded back into unconsciousness. Nothing made any scene; I couldn’t tell whether or not I am dreaming. As I fell back into sleep, I recalled my first name, Zack but that all I had to go with. Everything else about the past was a fuzzy of the unknown.  I realised in this moment just how peaceful sleep is, and that death... it’s not to be feared but embraced.

Before long, I forced my eyes back open, however this time things became clearer and I noticed I was more aware of what was going on, where I was in fact. As I stared up, I could see the canopy of branches that blocked out the gleaming sun light. The faint light broke through the single gaps in the leaves like some impossible jigsaw that could never be put together. All you could hear the sounds of the rain beating down upon the leaves of the forest that was held up by lifeless sticks that resembled old street lamps that lines the streets in the city. I slowly sat up and the dull ache in my chest started. The sort of ache you get just after you’ve been punched, but when I looked down upon my chest I noticed a small circular gap in my blue shirt.

‘What on earth...’ I slowly raised my head and saw just how dense the forest I had found myself in was.

The forest stretched for miles, and for as far as the eye could see was this web of tightly-knit trees and within the trees lay a mist and enclosed the forest. This is when the questions flooded in. Where was I? How did I get here? Who am I? To these questions I had no answers, only questions. The only thing I could remember was earth shattering pain and then darkness, and now I knew my first name Zack... but what was my last? After some effort I started to recall the ‘m’ sound that must be linked to my last name. There was an intense sadness that walked along side what I could remember, and next to the sadness holding its hand was anger, a powerful anger that forced me to stand up. Though, I wasn’t strong enough and my legs buckled under me, and sent my flying into the dirt from which I came.

‘What is wrong with me?’ I pondered. ‘This isn’t right. ‘

A women’s scream pierced my thought process and as a result left my heart pounding in my chest. It was pulsating so fast that I thought my whole body would shatter under the pressure. Dragging myself up to my feet with the aid of a nearby tree, I stared around waiting for another voice to ricochet once more. It wasn’t long before another shriek ran through the forest. Turning to meet the voice head on, I started to make my way towards it.

My strides were short and staggering as I slowly started to make my way to the wails. I was walking so slowly, that is seemed almost robotic as if my brain was struggling to tell each of my feet what and where to step next. I had been walking unsteadily for sometime before I heard another voice. This time a man’s and it wasn’t a scream but a command.

“Search the forest they couldn’t have gotten far! If King Fox finds out that we lost them, you’ll be the ones getting hanged!” this man’s voice was deep and full of authority. After his threat there was a clang of metal and armour hitting together as people readied themselves for the search. I did not approach; I didn’t want to be one of the people they were seeking so I remained rooted in my spot until I could be sure that they were good, or that I was going to get help from them.

Out of nowhere the thundering sound of heavy feet on the earth’s floor leapt my heart into over drive as from somewhere deep inside my soul I knew that this was bad. This was very bad indeed. In this moment, my eyes started to prickle in pain, like someone had just scratched them slightly, like they could no longer take the pressure of all the colours, and screams. It got so bad that I had to rub them vigorously until the pain subsided, and the voices cranked up a notch once more.