"Despite her most overpowering instincts to run and hide from the great beast that lurked beneath Allister's deathly pale skin, despite the most natural instincts engraved into her human mind, Ainslie couldn't resist the deep bond she felt for a man...
In a clearing in the tree's, where the grass was sickly green and dying, stood an enormous house constructed entirely of wood. All four towering walls were grimy and reflected the many years they had endured far away from any civilization. Unkempt, thick vines enveloped the wood and sprouted from cracks in the boards. Despite the strong winds that strived to batter the building down, it was solid and sturdy. Powerful.
The part moon still hung hauntingly high in the sky, its ghostly glow calling out to all the woodland creatures venturing through the forest between the trees and overgrowth. It had a powerful hold over those tortured souls, gripping them in an unrelenting pain - a deadly affliction.
Ainslie was shaking, not just shivering, literally shaking like a fallen leaf trapped in a powerful gust of wind. Something thick and warm was wrapped around the entirety of her body, from her poor bruised feet all the way to her chapped, dry lips - leaving the rest of her face exposed to the nights chill while bundling up the back of her knotted head. She couldn't move, speak or even open her eyes as she bounced and bucked around wildly. Her chest became unbearably tight once she realised something was trapping her arms beside her sides. She was being carried.
However improbable, Ainslie was still alive. But what of Allister? Her closed eyes were burning ferociously and her heart constricted. After witnessing the forests evil nature first hand Ainslie was not all that sure she wanted to open her eyes - too terrified of what she would find, too terrified to see Allister's lifeless body. If she had to return to her village and pretend that what transpired over the past day had never truly happen, Ainslie would surely go mad.
There was no way on God's green earth that she could reunite with Darniel and marry him as expected. No way that she could withstand his mind numbingly dull voice for the rest of her life while caring for the dozens of children that she had been told she would bestow to her family name. However horrid, she'd tasted freedom and it was far less bitter than the confinement of conventionality. Never mind its perilous consequences.
Again she tried to fight, to escape the tight grip around her, but she could not so much as wiggle her still icy fingers. She was cursed to helplessly lie in this strange grasp until she reached the desired destination.
From above Ainslie recognised the harsh panting of an animal, man or beast, and could feel the hot breath brush across her face. It was moving fast as she jolted in its arms and Ainslie was beginning to hear it's footsteps as well, in addition to the sounds of other feet slapping against the earth in a wild dash.
One of her delicate, battered feet suddenly slammed into something rough and coarse - like the bark of a tree.
"Careful, you imbecile!" A deep, sharp voice snapped viciously coinciding with the long withering groan that escaped Ainslie's painfully cracked lips.
Whoever was constraining her ignored the scolding, their scorching, stale breath dropping closer to her face. "Girl?" What she recognised as a man by the deep timbre of his voice, questioned quietly. "Can you hear me girl? You are going to be just fine, just fine."
"Samual! Hurry, quit your intolerable chit chatting and keep moving. We need to get them back to the house."
Them.
The word stuck out in Ainslie's hazy mind like the distinguishable chime of a church bell. That surely had to mean that Allister's weakening heart was still beating, did it not? A flurry of hope fluttered wildly in Ainslie's stomach - her own heart beginning to pound recklessly beneath her chest as a flush of heat enveloped her now burning cheeks.
"Dante!" The distinctly male voice of her captor hissed hurriedly. Ainslie body jolted roughy as the arms wrapped around her tightened. "Her face is turning pink! What should I do?"
"Keep. Moving!" The other man's voice was sharp, wild and feral. Even if Allister was still alive he would not be able to protect her from these uncivilised men. She had no inkling as to what they wanted to do with her and no desire to find out. All Ainslie wanted was to escape however she had no strength of her own to flee and Ainslie was not sure both her mind and body could handle leaving Allister behind. She had known him for the briefest of encounters and yet already she cared for him. Her heart ached terribly for the pain and suffering she had seen reflected in the dark, tortured corners of his dim eyes.
With a sudden bolt of fear pulsing through every ounce of Ainslie's body, her eyes flew open in a blind panic as a tortured scream ripped through her throat. An excruciating pain emanated from her stomach, her legs, her arms, her head; a resolute pounding plaguing her body as she gasped desperately for breath.
"Dante!" Ainslie could hear the panic in her captor's voice, the desperate edge that had his words cracking in fear.
Her glassy eyes were wide as she gaped up at the dark expanse of the sky, the tops of tree's rushed by in a blur as the speed of the startled man holding her increased tenfold until he broke out into a sprint.
His crushing hold around her was brutal. Ainslie's throat felt as raw as the bloodied soles of her bare feet. Her agonising screams died out to pathetic whimpers. The man was murmuring to her softly but she could no longer hear his words. Instead all she could hear was the wind rushing against the shell of her ear, quiet yet harsh like a fierce whisper of voices all talking at once. The pain had not stopped, instead intensified to such an unbearable level that her vision began to cloud. A bitter taste filled her mouth and sent her stomach rolling uncertainty in waves of dread as something strong tugged deep at the strings of her heart. She curled away from the man's hold, reaching out into thin air as another pulse of pain burst across her senses.
No more, Ainslie could no longer bear this torture.
The heat from the cloth that encased her was not enough, she still felt an icy chill all the way to her core as grim thoughts of Allister's fate stuck out in her mind.
Without warning, a crippling crack echoed in the air, briefly pulling Ainslie back to reality, followed by the thuds of footsteps hastily rushing towards them.
"Oh heavens," the soft spoken words of women caressed Ainslie's ears. "Get them inside, this poor child. She's as cold as ice."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Show your support by voting and commenting, please!
