Sometimes, you can't just understand a story being told from you.
Stories have a lot more then one side to them.
And in the world with god, and the devil, many supernatural circumstances to definie what happens.
Angels and devils aren't the only cre...
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| 3rd Person Point of View |
The leaves on the ground crumple, boots quickly moving on top of them, in a rush. The person wearing the boots doesn't stop at all, not even when a fallen tree is in her way, not even when her lungs want her to stop. She wears a green hood in an attempt to camoflague, although occasionally when she whips her head around, you can see some of her auburn hair peak out from underneath the hood.
She keeps runnning, running, and running, not allowing herself to start even though her body was screaming for her to. She runs for miles, until she finally allows herself to slow down, but never to stop. If she stops, she's afraid that they will reach her, and her parents did too much to keep her away from them.
She makes sure to listen for anyone who might come up behind her, clutching onto the knife in her hand, the knife with the initials H.M. on it. She jogs all the way to a river, taking out a canteen and filling it up with the fresh river water in an attempt to help her body recover from running for as long as she did.
Her hooded head quickly raises up when she hears someone in the woods behind her, the woman immedately hiding behind a tree to look around the woods, as her body is so tired from that running... she can't do it again, not right now.
But instead of seeing the people who were chasing her, she sees someone on the ground, absolutely covered in blood.
She decides that he isn't a threat from all her years of doing this, that he isn't a threat, at least not at the moment. So, instead of going forward and past the river, she slowly walks towards the hurt figure in front of her. Taking a cloth out of her satchel, she lifts up their shirt and puts it on the first wound she sees.
His eyes flutter slightly, but never open, and she takes that as a bad sign. She takes out another cloth, realizing that she wouldn't have these for herself if she ever needed them to bandage herself in the future, but at the moment, all that matters was the man in front of hers life.
She pours some water onto one and attempts to clean off a few more of his wounds, and when she sees him slowly attempting to wake up, she tries to get him to drink some water, gently lifting up his head in her hands.
His eyes finally open fully, him taking in his surroundings in an attempt to determine where he was.
"Shhh, shhh... it's okay, it's okay- I promise, I won't hurt you..." She knows that many people would come to the assumption that she was dangerous, thanks to all the lies that has been told about her. She smooths down his hair as he just stares at her, obviously confused.
"Who are you exactly?" He asks, slightly stuttering on his words as he attempts to get them out.
