Hunter Prey

eleven

I bite my lip. Just then, a very faint creak on the floor board makes the cabin eerily silent.

My eyes meet with Cece's, and, well, we agree silently that we're both royally screwed.

Do we run? Or do we not run? Do we attack the thing, or do we-

"Run!" Cece squeals. Oh, okay, I guess we're running.

This isn't gonna end well.

Cece clasps her hand in mine before bolting to the open window, not even attempting the front door, and leaping out of it. I squeak, completely flabbergasted, as the chill night air engulfs my being and frolics around me with whoosh's and shh's.

"Cece-" I try to get through to her, tell her this is useless, and the fact that we've seen entirely too many horror movies to react like this, but it's all hopeless when we continue stumbling through the trees and mossy grass with an abnormal speed boosted by adrenaline and the chill of being outside so late in only our pajamas.

Surprisingly, though, or truly, horrifyingly, there are no loud stomps, speedy footsteps, or even shadow chasing us. We're just...running, aimlessly.

A snap of a twig, from probably a critter, since I haven't heard anything that could allude to the creature, must've spooked Cece, because she lugs my exhausted, swell feet even faster, until my ankle rolls over a fall branch, and I tumble with a cry, sticks prodding at every available inch of flesh, tearing at it greedily, dirt splotching on my smooth, well now, torn skin.

Cece gasps in horror, absolute remorse and guilt drowning her expression as her eyes gloss and her chest heaves as she crouches down.

"Orla? Oh, Orla, I'm so sorry, I..I didn't mean it-" she gasps in labor breaths. I shake my head, tired, and frankly, missing my bed. My bed at home, not the problematic cabin.

Cece looks around helplessly, before gazing back down at me.

She bites her lip, letting out a frustrated grumble. "We need help. I just.." she breathes out helplessly, glancing around again. Her eyes lock on a light fairly far, but close enough to ignite hope in her chest.

"There! Orla, there's a house! Come on, it's only a meter, or..a few away! Please, Orla, get up," she attempts to tug me up, and I grimace once I'm on my feet, letting out a soft, tired sigh. I guess I don't wanna go out like this, might as well check out the light.

Cece bends a bit, and I slug myself on her back. She lets out a groan faintly at the added weight, but doesn't comment much on it.

After what seems like forever, we stumble into the private patch of land. Cece slides me off her back and onto the porch steps, before heaving heavily, scurrying up the steps, banging on the door. "Is anyone there?! Please, my sister is hurt-!" She screams hoarsely. The door peels open very leisurely, and an elderly woman pokes her head out.

She gasps softly at the sight, her shaky, pale, tiny fingers grasping the chipped wooden door. "Oh dear, come inside quickly! Warren! Come down here, boy! There's an injured little girl!" She wails. I cringe at the 'little girl' but let out a soft sigh of relief nonetheless.

Cece falls into the woman's arms with a weep, whilst the elder coos to her gently. The rest of the door swings open as a lengthy, burly bloke, tousled chestnut brown hair, a rugged look, and sage green irises comes stomping down the stairs, from inside.

I swallow thickly as he approaches and pauses, as if asking permission, and I barely get a nod before I'm swept into the rugged man's arms, letting out a squeak.

I'm left pondering how this night ended in this, or if it's only just begun, because before the door shuts as we enter the cozy home, the same, familiar eyes bore into mine.

However, there's a flicker of..emotion, in them.

One that elicits shivers from my body, something the man who holds me assumes as a response to being cold, which in itself is partly true, and snuggles me closer, gently, of course.

But truly, it was because of what I seen. Challenge.

I'm gently sat into a love seat, my sister a sniffling mess, coddled by the flaming fireplace. The large bloke closing the blinds, and shutting the curtains, locking all doors, whilst the elderly lady hums a soft tune while doing something in what I assume is the kitchen.

I let out a staggered breath, my eyes fluttering shut, my fingers fidgeting silently with the cloth against my chest.

It's going to be a very, very long night.