✯The Secret Heir✯

Nulla

I'm running. I'm losing. I'm hunted. I hurtle through the trees, blindly shoving branches out my way and leaving a trail of broken shrubble in my attempt at escape the creature tracking me. The wood grows even darker, as the creature closes in on me; a lion cornering a gazelle before pouncing on its prey.

I start to panic. My vision goes blurry, my mouth so dry, it rivals the Sahara but I press on, knowing what will happen if the beast catches me. I shove a lower branch out my way and spot a clearing at the edge of the forest, a meer 50 meters in front of me and start pumping my arms faster mentally willing my legs to move quicker. Sweat drips down my back as I near the edge of the forest, a flat grassland comes into view and relief washes over me as I see the safer and but instant dread rushes through me.
My mum is supposed to be here.

Just as my fingertips go to pull a last low branch out of my way, the roots of the winding trees curl and move around my feet, throwing me roughly to the sunken earth, holding me in position. Panic causes my vision to go hazy and I try to wriggle free, but the roots only wrap around tighter. Pain shoots up my legs but doesn't register because fear for my life overtakes me as the being which was chasing me comes into view. The figure slinks pointedly towards me, his face and body absqurd by a vale of mist, a silluet, but as he glides closer, his features become more prominent, and to more extent, fearful. The jet black cloak he always wears is trailing along the ground, sending swirls of mist flying, taunting me with the freedom they possess. I try to scream but no sound comes out. I try to move my limbs but they seem fixated with fear. My body becomes redundant, my brain the only thing functioning. Just before he reaches me, the figure raises a boney finger and tugs off his jet black hood in one smooth motion. His skin is almost translucent, the only colour are the veins which stain the skin with sickly purple lines. I am afraid but this is nothing compared to the fear I feel when he opens his eyes. Nothing. Pools of pain and sorrow. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out yet in my head I can hear the words clearly;

'This is me, Run.'