There was someone running in the woods.
The drumming rhythm of someone's rushed footfalls was enough to disturb the serene atmosphere of the calming wildlife.
It was early in the morning. The sky was a faded blue. The sun hid behind the horizon of mountains and trees. It was cold and silent—the definition of dawn—when the grass was crushed underneath hurried boots.
His name was Sully Kendever. He was short and quick on his feet. He was a forty-something year old man that had greasy locks of hair falling into his face as he panted for desperation.
Someone else was in the woods with him. Someone was following him, out for his blood. And Sully knew that if he stopped running now, the pine trees surrounding him would be the last thing he would ever see.
Sully had no clue of the direction he was running to. The woods he had entered was large enough to go missing for weeks. But he had no care in the world for that. The footsteps behind him were getting louder—the sound of crunching leaves and rustling bushes. Birds flocking away from trees, crooning as if telling him good luck. He was being abandoned.
And Sully was going insane.
It's fine. I'll unleash the beetle and kill him for good. Yes, yes. That's it.
Sully nearly tripped on a rock as his foot got caught on one. He stabled himself with his hands on the dirt and continued to run. He clutched on his chest, wheezing for air.
Sully had never really been good at running. He always stayed behind, preferring to sit back or stay hidden. That must be the reason why his lungs were burning, and his ribcage was starting to break.
So, he continued to run. He kept running because nobody had the time to die in the woods. That would be pathetic and embarrassing, despite him already loosing his stamina. Suddenly, in his peripheral, he spotted something glinting, like a shiny silver object was getting closer and closer.
It was getting so terribly close.
Wait... Sully ducked just as an arrow rocketed towards him. He released a pained cry as the point of the arrow impaled into his right thigh. No!
He hit the ground, smashing his head on a rock, then he rolled down a hill that seemed to go on forever. Just then, his eyes widened as he caught with his eye something thin and silver—like a thread or a string—tied between the trees. A trap?!
He fell into the web of strings. Around his ankle, sharp threads enclosed around his flesh. The same happened around his torso and arms, until he was dangling up in the air with him upside down. The sharp metal threads cut into his skin, blood nicking out of the cuts.
He imagined a butcher hanging the meat he had just cut for display. Sully imagined he must look like that meat right now. He was being treated like he was butchered meat.
"Oof, that's gotta hurt," a woman said from atop of a pine tree adjacent to the one Sully was hanging down from. She was crouched down on a branch, a gilded bow in her hands that was intricately made, and a matching quiver of arrows on her back.
She wore a black fitted military dress lined in gold that covered her neck and arms and reached her knees, black stockings, and matching knee-high heeled boots. Her hair was brown and was tied neatly in a long ponytail.
"W-Who are you?!" Sully screamed. He tried to jerk free but only ended up in tears as the silver strings cut deeper into his flesh.
The woman hissed and whistled, finding his predicament painful. "If you keep moving like a fish, you'll be sliced to bits in no time," she advised him.
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The Last Whisperer
الخيال (فانتازيا)Seren, 17 year-old, returns to her homeland destroyed one night by the Fae. 200 years later, she wakes up from a long slumber after she was discovered by a young noble in a tomb. She wanders in this new and unfamiliar world and wounds up in an islan...
