Fate of The Three

The Black Raven

It was dark. Tree branches whipped across my face as I ran. The forest stretched on, all around me, dark and foreboding. The sky was black, with no moon or stars to light my path. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. He was coming. His footsteps echoed through the wood. Everywhere and nowhere. I had to run. Hide. Before he found me. If he found me... Well, I just wouldn't let him find me. I crashed through the undergrowth. A low growl erupted behind me. No! I would not let him take me! Not again. I grabbed a stone and threw it to my left. Then I took off right. Oh, if only I had a weapon! At this point I'd settle for a stick. He was too strong to fight off with a sword, much less a stick, but if I needed to, if I needed, I could stab myself in the throat. My mentor's voice echoed in my head. "Fight as hard as you can, but never be taken alive." I gulped. No. Don't think. Just run. I was slowing, though. I could feel it. My lungs burned. My legs shook. I may not last for much longer. But I had to! I couldn't let him find me! Then I heard it. A strange rushing sound. It took me a second to place it, but then it hit me. I was headed for open water! Even as I realized it, I could see the trees thinning up ahead. Oh, great. I slowed, stopping at the edge of the tree line. There was a trench a few feet away. Cautiously, I approached the edge. A great river flowed at the bottom of the deep trench. You ever heard of the feeling of someone watching you? Well, that's exactly what I felt then. A strange tingly feeling on the back of my neck. I rubbed it distractedly and glanced over my shoulder. Then I saw it. A ghostly figure in tattered, bloodstained clothes standing at the tree line were I was moments before. I gasped, spun around, and half jumped, half stumbled off the ledge, the figures glowing white eyes still burning into my mind.

I could see him. The boy, running through the wood. Tattered, bloodstained clothes, so much like my own, now, although he seems to be shorter than me. Jet black hair, brilliant blue eyes filled with terror, he reminded me of someone... Someone I think I knew, once, in a past life. I don't know. My past is murky, at best. Ahh, he found the cliff. His back is to me, standing on the edge, staring down. I feel my feet move forward, closer to him. He rubbed his neck with a gloved hand. Glanced behind him. Eyes widen. He is afraid. Just like so many others. Others who are now dead. Whose blood rests on my hands and clothes. If I could change this, break free from this curse, I would. Yet I cannot. I am powerless to the demon who holds me trapped. Forces me to watch as he kills helpless people. Men. Women. Children. They are all the same to him. Yet there is something different associated with this boy. He is enraged with him, hates him with a passion I had only felt from him once before. The darkness seems to engulf my mind. My thoughts are getting murky. Yet I could still feel his anger, burning brightly within our shared mind. He... The boy... He was like me. A host. He escaped....

I woke, gasping for breath. I lay in a shallow pool, connected but away from the raging river that had swallowed me whole, then spit me back out in a pool of my blood. The pool around me was tinted pink with blood, but I doubt it's my blood. More likely it was the blood washing out of my clothes. I rose out of the water, wincing, and examined myself. My shoes were intact, just soaking wet. Like the rest of me. My white vest was shredded and stained pink. It would offer me little protection. My black T-shirt seemed fine, despite a small tear in the collar. My dark brown jeans seemed ok to, although my left pant leg was ripped at the knee. My dark brown shoulder pads and sash, all ok. I had a small cut on my cheek, but not to serious. I took off my white vest. No point keeping it, although perhaps I could burn it. Other than the vest and the clothes on my back, I had nothing. Oh, well. I was no stranger to survival. I stood and took in my surroundings. Oak trees to the left of me, Birch sprinkled in patches here and there, and on my right, the river. Behind me, the earth rises, leading to more wood. Ahead, the ground seems clear. I may as well head that way, since I have no interest in the wood behind me. I want to put as much distance between me and him as I can. Even if that had done me no good before. Turning, I started to walk away from the cliffs, following the rushing river beside me.