A terrified screech shattered the eerie quiet night as a young woman stumbled out of the forest, her white dress ripped and torn, blood specking the sleeves and a bloody piece of her dress tied around her right forearm. Her dark black hair shielding her face from view as she crumpled to her knees, her breath labored.
One of the young guards on patrol, rushed toward her, but before he could reach her, she stumbled up and ran back in the forest. With a shout to his comrade, he started running after her.
“HURRY! MY SISTER!” The woman cried, a little ways farther than the guard.
He pressed on, running faster, trying to reach the moan, paying little to no attention to his surroundings. He just felt a strong pull toward the woman, her shrieking pushing him forward, the forest thickening.
Suddenly the trees gave way to a clearing, trees enveloping it in secret, the night sky shining down. He looked around trying to find the woman. Off to the right a tall tree stood lone, the trunk and branches twisted. It looked an ash grey, almost sickly looking as candles flickered all around it. His breath caught as candles appeared all around, stating to flicker and catch light. And as he looked down he noticed where he was standing.
There, forming all around him, with him in the middle, was a witches circle. His heart beat jumped, his breathing quickening, as he watched the circle twist and curve, painting itself on the woodsy floor in red.
RED?!?! BLOOD! His eyes widened, his breath now coming in short pants, as he tried to move, to run and never look back, but he couldn’t and when he looked down he realized the roots of the ash tree had wrapped itself around his ankles, keeping him grounded in place. And with each breath, each pant and whimper the stench of death and blood grew thicker.
In absolute horror he looked around in search of the source of such sorcery, or even just a way to escape…when he heard a snap of a branch. Standing there in front of him and at the point of the star was the woman in the white dress.
Even with the torn dress bellowing around her, she was beautiful. Her toned legs showing through the tears. Her hair black and shining in the moon light falling all around her. Her pale skin causing her eyes to stand out, as they glowed an unholy silver and ungodly gold, a swirling battle between the two, her lips moving in whispers.
Low chanting vibrated all around him, surrounding him, trapping him as the twisted roots crawled up his legs, the chanting growing louder and louder yet never going above a whisper. Smoke and fog thickened around him until all he could see was a flicker of hazy candle light and beady red eyes with a flickering ruby forked tongue. The shadow, darker than the fog and smoke, a presence that cannot be over looked, hissed as it approached, until it was eye to eye with the young guard…a ebony black snake with red markings of a language long forgotten hissed once more and with what looked like nothing more than a sly smile struck out at the young man…before everything went black.
YOU ARE READING
On Her Own
WerewolfA scream pierced through the steady rain, and into the night, but none heard the scream from inside the cabin in the middle of the forest, none knew of the treacherous deeds about to occur. None knew about the sudden change of events that one littl...
