Enslaved Heart (A "No one lives" fan-fiction)

Midnight Stroll

      Authors note: This story is written in third person formatting meaning no "i's and you's". Also severe trigger warning ahead it contains intense mature themes including trauma, mental health, and gore. You have been warned!

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           A woman limped into the clear path of the woods, feet bare and covered in cuts from running through branches and bristled bushes for hours with little rest, a tattered hoodie hung low against her knees gray but splattered with mud and a drying crimson stain that covered whatever logo was originally printed at the front and hair matted to the point it was a wild tangle glued to the back of her scalp. Eyes the color of sapphires were now glazed in fatigue focus and darkened by the night around her now shone with a distant lantern that gave it a small shine. No sounds emitted from her footsteps, the leaves hardly crinkling underneath and despite the chill of the wind brushing her bare legs she was silent and used the cover of the rustling branches to hide any sounds. The strange figure appeared to lean against a tree momentarily lifting up her head and waiting with baited breath. Staying there for several moments and listening to the howling of night and distant sounds of a bear trekking the woods, only being spooked from her trance when a crow took flight in the trees and she straightened immediately, glancing around as if expecting to see someone despite the darkness consuming all features of the surroundings with just the shadows of thick trunks to guide her.

She stepped tentatively onto the gravel path reaching for the ground on pointed toes and feeling for a moment as if a trap was laid there and then rolling down her heel pressing down her entire foot and following it, came the other. Making cautious movements until certain that there was nothing that was impeding her and then fully stepping into the amber light of a cabin's porch lantern.

It was an older one, rusting at the top from wear but still bright enough that it illuminated a majority of the dark forest surrounding the quaint family cabin along with a beat up red pick up truck parked just in front of the staircase. She approached with mild curiosity, stalking it similar to a wild animal approaching something new. Pressing her palms to the cool metal and pushing upwards onto her toes once more to peer into the bed of the truck only to find a blue tarp and a spare tire lying on it's side atop it. Nothing interesting as it had clearly been emptied today but the grooves held pockets of water and pines from the clawing trees above which suggested it had been parked recently and collected water from the storm yesterday.

Satisfied she moved to the front, at first trying the door handle giving it an experimental tug but it didn't give way instead the handle pulled out but the door stayed glued to the frame. If only.. Inside there was nothing of true use that she'd risk breaking the window. Just a McDonald's bag overturned on the passengers side with a few french fries scattered here or there and some napkins placed neatly in the cup holder. From the whiff coming from a small crack in the window the meal must've been ages ago as there was a stale odor of burgers but nothing else. A tacky pine scented car freshener was hung on by the string against the mirror and cancelled out much other smells as it was leaving behind the overpowering scent of the forest. Potentially pleasing when in the city but now it was over done  and redundant to her senses. There were only two seats in the front of the truck so that meant only two people occupied the cabin currently, less of a risk.

The girl lowered herself down and dragged her gaze back to the cabin. Its screen door shut against the peeling paint of a front door with a golden knob. Just next to it was a cheesy wooden sign with the words carved into it "Our home, away from home." For a moment she considered turning and leaving, approaching now would only put these people in jeopardy. He would come and with him death would follow but perhaps.. The truck was salvation. She glanced down at her battered feet and for once felt the pain that adrenaline had blocked out. A sudden stinging agony that rolled up her tensed spine and screamed for a relief that wouldn't come. Walking for any longer on damaged legs would do no good, she had no choice but to seek sanctuary. Gathering what remained of her tattered courage, the stranger stepped up the creaky staircase and to the door, pulling the screen back as it squealed against rusted hinges and giving the door a firm knock.