The Wolf -COMPLETED-

27. Old Mowing Man

Chapter 27 ~ Old Mowing Man

artwork by  AnarchyInfliction

Old Mowing Man

I lay with the wolves until sunrise, and then hesitantly got up. The sun shone a warm orange on the horizon and birds were beginning to sing. They all seemed sad for me to go, and a few even whined. I went up to each one and wrapped my arms around their furry necks until I got to a white one. The white one had blood all over its mouth. My eyes widened and I took a step back. It cocked its head in confusion at me and its brows seemed to furrow. With new realisation dawning on me, I turned my head to look at all the other wolves. A few had blood on their ears, muzzles, and paws, and one was covered from nose to tail.

These weren't just random wolves, they were the ones that attacked me and Brittany. My heart dropped and I took another step back. I had spent all night with these murderers, and had no idea.

Taking in a harsh breath, I turned and started running. My bare bloodied feet pounded against the rough forest floor. I had no idea where I was going, but I had to get away from the monsters. My heart raced and I began to pant. I ran faster than I ever had, and faster than I thought I ever could. A low howl echoed behind me, encouraging me to speed up my pace. Trees blurred in my vision as a path seemed to take form in front of me. I didn't even look back to see if the beasts were closing in on me. I had no idea if they were even following me at all. Ignoring the burning on the pads of my feet, I pushed on. My chest ached and my pulse thundered through my whole body. I had no clue where I was going, but as I took a left, I recognised the familiar sight of the orphanage fence.

I slowly skidded to a halt, stopping at the edge of the tree line. I clutched my chest with one hand, while gripping a tree with the other. My lungs screamed for air as I panted heavily. Black spots danced in my vision as I struggled to catch my breath. I leaned forward and stared hard at the dirt below my bloodied feet, focusing on each breath I took. Gradually my breathing got steadier and easier, and I found I was able to stand up without support. Taking in another gulp of air, I looked around to make sure no wolves had followed me. I saw no sign of fur or claws, and instead, my eyes were drawn to the orphanage fence.

Inside the fence on the playing field, a gardener stood with a ruler and a pair of scissors. I watched as he bent down and stood the ruler on the ground then began to cut away at the grass, making sure to keep it even. He let out a pained sigh and crouched down onto his knees, mowing the lawn by hand in an excruciatingly slow pace. His old hand shook with each snip, and sweat began to drip from his forehead even though the sun hadn't properly risen yet.

A frown formed on my face. Why didn't he just use proper tools and machinery. Wouldn't that make things much easier for him? A loud grunt came from his direction, and he lifted up a bloodied hand. As soon as I saw it, the stench of his blood filled my nose. It was strong and overpowering, like a perfume Ms Litch would wear. All of a sudden my stomach grumbled. I watched in a trance as the blood trailed down his wrist and pooled in the crook of his arm. I was so hungry, I couldn't help but think about what he would taste like. Maybe chicken? That's what people say about other things, like snakes.

All of a sudden his ruler and scissors clanged against each other and thudded to the ground with a metallic ring, knocking me out of my trance. He clutched the wrist of his bleeding hand tightly and groaned. Without thinking twice, I ran over to the fence and rattled the rusty metal gate open. Not even bothering to close it, I dove to the man's side and cradled his wounded hand into mine.

"Sir, are you okay?" I murmured, my voice trembling.

He only winced in response, his forehead creasing deeply.

"D-do you know where a first aid kit would be?" I asked him.

He raised his good hand and pointed toward a crumpled old wooden shed which looked like it could collapse any second.

"B-be-beside t-the i-ron weed-d cutters" he forced out with harsh breaths.

I gave him a sharp nod, and gently putting his hand down, jolted up and hurried over to get him the first aid kit. As I neared the shed I felt the need to glance up at the orphanage bedroom windows. Behind the smashed glass of my window stood a figure. And the figure seemed to be glaring down at me with pure disgust and hatred. I stepped back in fright, then watched as the figure disappeared from view.

sorry for the wait, all

you folks who messaged

your fav season got

the reason for the 

wait.

another wait is coming

up, because I have prelims

in the next fortnight.

have a good day/

evening!