One Shots

Pride and Prejudice (Emphasis on the Pride)

If there is one thing that Elizabeth Bennet has learned over the last minute, it was that she should not have insulted Zeus. It was just one little sentence–no, one little phrase. A phrase that she had read in a book. She should have known better than to repeat it.

Elizabeth ran through the pouring rain and torrential winds that nip at every inch of exposed and wet skin. Even if she were not in her nightgown there would be no part of her that could avoid this weather. But she was in her nightgown–and a flimsy one at that. She ran as the wind tousled her hair and threw it in her face. She ran as the rain met the dirt road and turned it to mud. And she ran as the cold snuck its way under her skin and to her bones.

She can't feel her fingers or toes. The shall she had once clutched with all her strength has long been blown away by the sudden storm. It was so dark. Between the clouds that hid the moon and the heavy rain that followed her every move, not even the flashes of lightning could light her way.

Just a little longer. Just one more step. Just-

The world turned upside down as her shoe-less foot sunk into mud. Elizabeth crashed into the no-longer-solid dirt road. This night gown was certainly sullied beyond repair. A flash of lightning hit the earth in front of her and a thundering roar followed. When the light faded, a figure stood on the scorched path.