Someone is pursuing me.
I have no idea how I got here and why I am being followed. All I know is that my instinct is telling me that I'm running for my life and that my lungs are about to burst in this freezing cold. As I pant, small smoke clouds form and dissipate in the air. Beads of sweat trickle down my neck. The snowflakes raining down from the sky stick coldly to my skin and my face in particular isn't spared.
While running, I dare to glance over my shoulder, only to see the familiar silhouette trailing after me. The person is cloaked from head to toe in a black robe, making it impossible for me to catch a glimpse at their identity.
"First, second, third, fourth wall ... I'm breaking them all."
Judging by the sound of the melodic voice alone, my pursuer must be a woman. Mumbling to herself, almost as if she is happily humming verses of a song only known to her, she's eagerly scribbling down something in the black notebook she's holding.
The worst thing is that she's not even running like I am. She's calmly waltzing. No matter how fast I run, she's always behind me. Close by. Lurking. Sauntering towards me without a care. Catching up, even though that is sheerly impossible. It's as if I can't outrun her. Can't hide. Can't escape her grasp for whatever reason. It's frightening in a way I haven't experienced yet. And yet I can't help but wonder if this is what people mean when they talk about a slow death.
"If I really were to do this ... Dorn might pose to be a problem if I'd be up against him ... Ah, maybe not, the way he was written, he wasn't as clever as intended ... Gessler might get on my nerves, personality alone, though."
Despite the distance between us, I can hear her voice, especially her slight accent, ring in my ears as clear as the white snow surrounding us. She's talking about people I don't even recognize by name, let alone about something I would be able to understand in the slightest.
"Leave me alone!" I cry out in despair in hopes to invoke her mercy. "Whoever you're after, you've got the wrong guy!"
But the cloaked woman just keeps muttering endlessly, completely ignoring my plea. Pen in hand, she's too self-absorbed in what I assume to be her work. The fact that she's following me while at it is giving me the creeps. As haunting as this whole experience is, I'm not going to give up and confront her head-on more than I need to. Something tells me that if I close the distance between us, I'm going to meet my demise.
"What about Xenon? Ah, his story isn't written down yet. Just like Cole's from Wicked World. I suppose they wouldn't know both of them yet... I need to pick up the pace and tackle procrastination. However, Pandora's Heart is top priority for now."
All of a sudden, her rumbling stops for a moment and she comes to a halt. She looks around her surroundings, eyeing the snow. A black gloved hand reaches out and she snaps her fingers. A breeze of wind rushes by and carries with it more snow than I had thought possible. Hills and the few pine trees surrounding us fade from my vision into the vastness of a rising snowstorm, leaving me cornered in a white tempest.
My eyes widen in fear and unwillingly, I stop running.
Who on Earth is she?
"I like this environment. I might call this one Frostbite ... Still not sure about the name, though," she mumbles. Again, she's writing down something with her pen.
Her head whips up, she stares into my direction and I feel my heart drop in an instant. My fight or flight response kicks in, emphasis on the latter.
"You."
Hell no.
When I immediately turn around again to pick up the pace again, I hear her snap her finger again and before I know what is happening, I fall to my knees, plunging head first into the masses of snow below me to taste its coldness first-hand. Immediately, I spit it out before said cold can seep into my bones. I try to stand up, but my hands only grip at the pulverized white substance below me in vain.
YOU ARE READING
MEGAVERSE
Short StoryAn unknown pursuer is trailing after him. He can run, but he can't hide. Without a clue as to why, a merciless snowstorm drags on and the stranger behind him forces him to keep running for his life. As the enemy only speaks in riddles, communicatio...