It was quiet. Awfully quiet.
It's been a few long minutes since he heared the singing.
What the hell. Looking behind his back makes him feel secured, that nothing is actually coming to bite him in the ass.
The sea of stars attract his attention amidst the chaos in his head.
.
.
.
.
Only lord knows how long he has stared at the tall trees. Their narrow dried branches making out a one scary silhouette, as if trying to swallow up him whole.
Was he seeing things? Or hearing them?
"Surely he should not have caught up to me?" "He mumbles under his unsteady breath. All that running took a tool on him.
Now he also has a maniac hot on his trail.
Taking a deep breath costs him a cough. He groans in deep annoyance. Now even he has nerves of steel.
What...Am I going to throw up blood next?
He claimed with a worthy chuckle.
It wasn't the mood for joking around, nor was he. But it was the least he could do to not become unhinged himself in his situation. No soul around to be seen, only faint cracking of wood is heared from god-knows-what direction.
As his eyes lay on a histant smoke coming out of a ...
A cabin?
He kept walking without actually looking where he was heading. The only thing he was focusing on, was to inspect the lonely wooden booth.
So much focus, he did not hear the singing infact, was to be heared again.
YOU ARE READING
"ZAIKA"
FanfictionThough it seems his past got swept under the rug, he could not be more wrong. What happens when the person who still haunts him to this day, finds his whereabouts? That one being the one and only Psikh Bogdanov.
