Another World

Night Three ~ Fiction ~ In My Final Moments

A walk in the woods. Sounds perfect right? I thought so to. A few miles in I realized someone was watching me. I had left my phone at home. I was alone, defenseless, and no way to call for help. No one else was around for miles. I knew this was my last day, my last night. My only hope was walking. I walked for miles. Tired, I stop.

Tree branches swayed. I stood alone. To my right a twig snapped. It's just the wind. There I stood, trying to reassure myself. The wind blew harsher. The cold prickled against my skin.Fear spread through out me. The branch snapped. He was getting closer.

I looked down at my torn jeans. This morning they were free of holes. The whole time I knew. He was following. I caught a glimpse of him a few miles back. The man had night black eyes and black hair swept across his face. His thin pale lips had been tightly pressed together. As he ducked behind the tree, his gaze had meant mine. But that was a few hours ago.

My stalker became more cautious. He knew I saw him. Since then the man had never faltered. I remained still. Standing still, I surveyed my surroundings. I was in a small clearing, to my side, a small stream trickled. Above the sun quickly dipped behind the trees. It was peaceful. Anyone else would've been fooled, but not I. I knew better.

The force of the wind eased. A shiver of fear went down my back. There wasn't much hope. This was my last night and I had wasted it.

Regret and anger surged through me. I had wasted most of what little time I had. The moments were slipping away. The man approached, wanting to be seen. He wanted to instill fear within me. As much as I hated it, it worked. I was alone and vulnerable in the middle of the forest. There was minutes, maybe hours left for me. A limited amount of breaths.

The man was so close I could feel his breath. Still, he was not in my view. My eyes shot daggers at where I believed he was. "It'll be over soon," he whispered in a menacing voice. Something about him was familiar. Despite my curiosity I didn't try to figure out why. I didn't care. It didn't matter, he was going to kill me.

I didn't fight nor scream. His hand pressed over my mouth. In this moment I stopped thinking. What good would it do? This man had his reasons, no matter how demented it was for killing me. A knife was drawn to my throat. It lingered there for a moment. He led the tip at the edge of my throat, applying pressure. The pressure increased as he drew it across. Blood trickled down. My whole body shuddered from the pain. I began counting the moments. 1.... 2...... 3.... My breathing ceased.

My whole body went limp in his hands. For a moment longer he held my lifeless body. Gently he laid down my lifeless corpse. "I'm sorry," he whispered. With that my killer walked away, leaving my body to rot. Eyes forever staring at the sky above. Mouth slightly parted from trying to bring in a final breath. Clothes torn and covered in blood. Hair mattered, and plastered to my face.