Cliché

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"Pesky Little Thing"

Technoblade

Tw: Tiny amounts of blood

Notes: *Screams loudly*

Song: "Cradles" By Sub Urban

GN!

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(Y/n) iris's darted around the dark woods nervously, their eyes wide and alert. Thumps courtesy of the heavy boots they wore pounded against the ground dully, doing little to conceal their position in the unfamiliar forest.

Leaves crunched out loudly from under the figures feet, the crushed remnants of some flying behind with the force of their harsh sprint. Adrenaline pumped through their veins like a sticky drug. It sluggishly made its way through their system, only fueling the fear that had formed a tight ball in their chest.

(Y/n) looked behind themself quickly, some matted strands of hair getting inside of their dry mouth that they would attempt to fill with saliva from time to time. From over their shoulder, they could see the small hord of mobs they had been running from for quite some time take a gruesome shape.

A bundle of zombies ran over each other in a desperate effort to reach the adult. Chunks of rotting flesh fell off their skin in large sized pieces, some ranging anywhere from the size of eggs to softballs. Groans and moans rang out ominously. A potent smell of spoiled milk and vomit soured the air with its putrid fumes. The sensory details did nothing to ease (Y/n)'s worries. If anything they only increased their drive to run faster.

Directing their attention back to the path in front of them, (Y/n) narrowly missed hitting a tree. They shook their head with a panicked expression, trying to clear their blurred vision. One inch more to the left and they would be guaranteed zombie food.

And so it went on like that for a while. (Y/n) kept doing various shrubbery and trees in the pitch black night while the mobs behind them didn't lessen in the least bit. If anything, the crowd continued to grow overtime. (Y/n) even spotted a few baby zombies adding to the numbers. The amount of speed that those little guys possesed made their skin crawl with terror as if little tiny bugs had rooted themself in their skin.

It was only after their legs had started to give out and lungs deflate did a small sliver of hope invade their clouded mind. Right as (Y/n) was about to give up and fall to the floor in a pile of tired bones, a bit of light poked at the corner of their vision.

(Y/n) glanced over with dilated pupils, hoping that they weren't imagining things. True to their first assumption, a cabin came into view. It was in the middle of a grassy clearing that (Y/n) had no idea how they could have missed.

The building itself was wonderfully constructed with sanded outer walls and a mini stable built just off to the left. It was practically a stone's throw away from the larger build.

A tiny cobblestone path with bits of moss covering it led from the ruffled grass lawn onto an old timey porch with a battered wooden swing fit for two hanging off rusty chains. Lanterns were sprinkled on the edges of the house, casting the same yellowish-white glow that had originally caught (Y/n)'s attention. The last detail that the frantic runner seemed to notice was the blatantly golden accents that decorated the windows and door. Whoever owns this place must be loaded.

And the best part was that no one seemed to be home.

(Y/n) immediately changed courses as fast as they could. With smoke practically coming off the edges of their heels, they sped off towards the direction of the promised sanctuary.