The Immortal Tales // c.h.

1

1492

I scattered through the old, barren woods that accompanied my village and last living descendants. My breath left a distinct burning sensation as my feet tried to keep up with my heavy demands. My long hair cascaded over my shoulders in a shiverly haste. My panting grew worse over the next few seconds and my hands tightened harder around my dress as I held it up to run as abruptly as managable.

I looked back and my mind became a jumbled mess as I turned back around to be met with the floor. The leafs were damp and my fingers collided with the stench of wilderness. I stumbled my back against a nearby tree trunk and I cried heavily. Death was upon me. I felt it in my veins like plague.

"Someone, help me! Please!" My leg was shrouded with a tangy metallic smell and it burned passionately, as if it were the last thing I would ever feel.

I heard his footsteps coming closer to my shaken, distressed form and I pleaded for my life.

"Don't kill me, please." I whisper as his brown locks and white, sugary teeth grazed my cheek. I gulped with anticipation.

He smiled, a sinister smile and his brown eyes tinted a devilish pool of a blood lusted color. His teeth sharp and more dangerous than most animals I have seen. He was a healthy, driven man, but I only saw one thing,

A demon.

"No, no, please. I beg of you. Thou owe nothing to you," I push myself further against the tree,"Beast." I finished as I messily, but purposefully spatted at him.

I felt a sharp and most painful sting in my neck and screamed a gut curling scream.

My eyes shot open as I gasp for air, almost as if I was the woman seizing her death. I hold my chest and sit up abruptly as I try to breathe. My eyes then focus and I am met with a gladed smell of strawberries. I squint as light pours through my green eyes. The sun was warming my tan skin and hitting my face with a dingy, gross feeling.

My feet hit the cold, hardwood flooring and my sleeper trousers strike the bottom of my ankles. I massage my face and attempt to collect my thoughts. I gaze at my reflection in the mirror and my hair is thrown about. I ignore my unpleasant state and trudged down the stairs.

I am met with the same strawberry smell as just when I woke up.

"Hey, oof, you don't look to good. Maybe try some pancakes?" My father speaks in a suggestive tone.

My father was the only thing I had ever cared about.  He had taught me how to be passionate about something even if no one knew its purpose. My father was a good man. My mother disappeared before I could fathom words and I thank a greater power everyday that my father stuck around. He was all I had, the dark haired man meant much more to me than what was seen on the surface. I loved him and it was the kind of love that a daughter never lets go of. He respected me and I am attempting to repay him everyday for being the man he is.

"You are not funny," I announce to my father as I grab a toasted bagel,"It happened again." I mutter, munching on my bagel.

My father pours his coffee. The silky-brown liquid drizzles into his cup. The sound rings through my ears and I shutter, unaware of this feeling. He sighed,"Again? Leila, that's the fourth night in a row." My father speaks with concern rolling over his tongue.

"Did it happen the same way?"

"It felt worse, the woman's thoughts took a toll on me."

"Well yes, the same way," I sigh and get up, deciding to get dressed for my dreadful school hours.