Short Stories!

Excerpt from Runaway

Snow falls, obscuring my vision. I shiver. The furs I collected aren't keeping me warm enough. I knew I should have brought more supplies. I have been running for ages it seems. Everything is so quiet. To quiet if you ask me. The snow falls harder, covering any tracks my dinner would have made. I need to find a cave, and now. I run again.

My breaths come in short bursts. My legs sting with every step I take. I feel my bow and arrows rub against my back. I have to keep going. The snow makes it so hard to see even five feet in front of me. It gets even colder as the day goes on, and the further I run into the forest. I hear stream to my left. But just barely as all the water is covered in ice. I decide to go there to see if I can find any animals. There are holes in the ice here. I assume they are from people fishing. That must mean there is a village nearby.

The snow stops falling so hard. I get a chance to look around me. There are pine trees everywhere. Icicles hang from every branch of every tree, creating an array of color on the snowy ground. I see a small cave about thirty paces to my left. I will have to stay there for the night. First I need wood to make a fire. Then I need to find something to eat.

Crack!

I look behind me. Nothing.

Crack!

Louder this time. I look towards the cave. Nothing.

CRACK!

Right next to me.

I turn slowly. A hooded figure in all black comes out from behind a tree, daggers in their hands. This figure is about to throw. I quickly grab my bow and shoot at the thing. I see the face. It is a man. He dodges the arrows with ease. He throws one dagger. It sticks in my leg. I collapse to the snow, howling in pain. I look at my leg just to see blood all around me. My blood.

The man covers my mouth with one hand and lifts me off of the ground with the other. I move my head in an attempt to get away, but to no avail. Black spots dance in my vision. I jerk trying to get away from the man's iron grip. I once again fail. A black veil surrounds my vision.

A/N

Changing things up for this part. This is not a short story, but a preview of a new story I am writing. It will be called Runaway. I thank my friend for giving me ideas for the title.