Random Rainimator Stories

Runaway Nostra - Part 2

Without a second to lose, Nostra pushed the gate open with their hand and stormed out of the village. Their heart raced with their feet as they fled, blood rushing to their muscles. Nostra heard the furious screams and roars of protest from the townsfolk, their voices only getting louder as Nostra tried to run further. They looked around, confused about their surroundings. They were running in a spacious green field outside the village, yet large brown fences guarded it. A door stood tall and proud at the other end of the field. The exit, Nostra thought as they ran faster. Their surroundings soon became a blur, an abstract canvas. Nostra didn't have time to stop and think about their surroundings not making sense; they had to run. Nostra ignored the ache forming in their legs as they continued. The setting sun beat down upon them, sweat trickling down their forehead. Nostra wiped away their sweat, managing to maintain their pace. The door felt further away the longer they ran, and yet the sound of the chasing townsfolk seemed to grow quieter as they did.

Nostra halted in front of giant wooden double doors, their face inches away from slamming against the wooden surface. They opened the door hastily, slamming it shut behind them. Nostra stifled a gasp as they took in their surroundings. They were still in the spacious green field outside of the village. They were still locked in by large brown fences. There was still a large wooden double door on the other side of the field. How was this possible? Nostra wanted to ponder over the question but the pounding of fists against the door behind them snapped Nostra out of their thoughts. Nostra turned to see cracks and holes forming, the might and strength of the townsfolk obvious. Nostra turned again, breaking into a sprint. Their feet were starting to tire and their body was uncomfortably warm. Yet, Nostra couldn't stop.

Snap! The townsfolk were no longer muffled. Nostra risked a turn from behind. The wooden door was now a pile of splintered wood on the ground. The townsfolk stumbled out of the wreckage, quickly pushing ahead as they spotted Nostra. Nostra turned back to face the front, urging their tired legs to push ahead. Their legs somehow obeyed, feeling a sudden boost in their pace. Yet, the field only seemed to stretch further and further, the door on the other end blurry in the distance. Nostra felt themselves slow down, their surroundings becoming clearer. Panic rose in their throat, threatening to spill out in a scream.

And scream they did. The noise escaped their mouth before they could register what was going on. Nostra felt themselves tumble to the grassy ground, their knees slamming against a rock. Nostra screamed again, clutching their knees. This was not like them at all. What was happening? They thought as they stumbled to their feet.

A hand pulled Nostra back. Nostra screamed once more, out of fear this time. Another hand reached for their mask, ripping the leather thing right off their face. Panic filled their heart, their memory of their mother gone. Nostra blinked rapidly as they looked up. It was the shopkeeper's hand, Nostra realised. The shopkeeper took in Nostra's facial expression. Eyes wide, a tired tear rolling down their cheek, dry lips, gritted teeth, sweaty forehead. The shopkeeper laughed as he pointed his pitchfork at the mask.

No. Please, don't.

The pitchfork penetrated through the leather mask, tearing the material into pieces. The shopkeeper laughed as he let the pieces of the mask fall to the ground. Nostra sat still, their eyes wide with horror.

The mask's remains were the ashes of their mother. Gone. Just like their mother. Gone, gone, gone.

Nostra's eyes remained locked on their mask. Their body remained still. The world was still moving, but Nostra wasn't. Suddenly, the shopkeeper pulled Nostra backwards, a smile donning his face. Nostra snapped out of their trance, looking around in panic. The townsfolk surrounded the two, ensuring escape was impossible for Nostra.

"I got you where I want you, little bird. Nowhere for you to spread your wings and take flight, isn't that right?" the shopkeeper asked in a harsh tone.
Nostra huffed as they struggled against the shopkeeper's grip. "This bird's wings aren't the only thing that helps it take flight," they snapped, their voice weaker than they intended.