The Nightscape

The Sartand

Both of them yelled out and sprang back in horror, Lyra stumbling into a tree and then twisted away again. Anya almost fell over a root as she walked backwards, looking up to the canopy in horror and trying to see where it had come from. She could see the broken branches and shed leaves, the smears of blood, and further up, movement, but it was too far away to make out specifics. Meanwhile, Lyra stepped forward, inspecting the body with a rising dread. The body was fresh, blood still spurting out of the neck, and she recognised the make of the clothing. For a horrifying moment, she thought it was one of her cousins. She hadn't known them for long, and they certainly didn't get on well, but she didn't want them dead, and especially not when they were chasing after her. But when she forced herself to look a little closer, she realised that the build was wrong, and it couldn't be either of them. 

"What the- why- why would they chase us through this hell? Why are they so pissed at us?" Lyra asked, throwing her hands up in a panic, confused and scared and disgusted and horrified, not able to think clearly. Anya gestured wildly at her, finally getting her to shut up and stay still. 

"Lyra, whatever dropped it is still above us. See?" She whispered, pointing upwards. Slowly, her face paling, Lyra followed her finger and line of sight up into the canopy, where she also saw the smears of blood and subtle stirring of the leaves above. They both stood there, frozen and quiet. For a moment, the movement became more pronounced, and they saw the shadow of the creature through the leaves, and then it was gone. No movement. No sound. No shadow. It was worse, Lyra decided. Like when there was a huge spider in your bedroom, and then you looked away to grab a shoe and when you looked back it was gone. Slowly, Lyra reached for Anya, taking her hand and pulling her over to her. She wasn't quite sure what that plan was, but right now she felt too exposed. Get under a tree with low hanging branches, so it couldn't just dart down from above. Anya shook her head silently, clearly not wanting to be under a tree, where it might be able to climb down and grab them. After a moment of them both whispering their own side of it, trying to encourage the other to their idea of safety, before they heard a branch break immediately above them. 

They let go and threw themselves backwards, Lyra ending up sprawled in the bed of roots of a nearby tree, while Anya was scrambling backwards over the clearing. They both froze again, their eyes meeting in silent panic before they both looked back to the canopy, studying it for movement or shadow. Lyra felt panic and adrenaline burning through her, locking her muscles in place as it always did when things got too scary. No matter how much she reminded herself that she was immortal, that no matter what it was it couldn't kill her, her body wouldn't listen. Anya, meanwhile, sprang to her feet, settling into a firm stance with her hands ready by her chest, staring up at the canopy and looking around with quick glances to try and find it. Before either of them could recover from the adrenaline rush, or even say anything to each other, everything went wrong. 

The thing suddenly came breaking out of the canopy, so quick it gave them no time to respond. Lyra was stuck in place, eyes wide as she watched the thing uncoil over Anya. It was a huge beast, with the body of a huge anaconda. It's torso must have been at least two feet wide and as thick as a tree trunk, and it disappeared into the canopy with no signs of tapering off. It's scales were iridescent, shimmering to match the surroundings but with an extra mix of green and purple tones. It was perfectly smooth, yet she could make out the individual scales and see how they took turn to stand on end like sharpened blades. But it didn't end in a snake's head as she had expected. Instead, it had a flat face that was disturbingly human like, with a heavy brow ridge over slitted eyes, a small flat nose and a mouth with a protruding jaw, full of sharp teeth. It also had two long, lanky arms with half a dozen joints, not even including the tapered hands at the end, tipped with small, stubby claws. Before she could even blink, the beady pink eyes fixed on her with an eerie amount of intelligence as the arms wrapped around Anya. Immediately, the girl was thrashing, throwing back elbows and clawing and kicking, but even when they made contact it didn't seem to do much. Lyra tried to move, to help, but then the thing was withdrawing back into the canopy and taking Anya with it-