Alone Beyond Death

Happiness and Dread

  I woke screaming. Flailing like a mad person. It took a moment for my eyes to focus. My world spun like I just rode the world's worst tilt-a-whirl.

"Damn it Frank! Where where are you?" I called out, but there was only silence in return. "Frank?"

The sun spilled in from the hole, but the only sounds were the distant chirping of birds. I checked myself.

  Lots of blood and lots of mud. I was small and pale where skin could still be seen. I was... definitely a female. Damn.

  "This is awkward." Let's call myself athletic and modestly endowed, like a gymnast, and leave it at that.

  My arm and chest were covered in scabs. This was surprising, I figured that I should have bleed to death but everything seemed to be ok. Painful and tender, but ok. Lots of bruises... everywhere.

  Self inventory completed I looked back to the hole out of my little cave. Well, nothing else for it. I clambered out.

Outside was a nightmare landscape. Blood and body parts everywhere. A paw here, a head there and... chunks of meat.

"Good God Frank!" I stared wide eyed at the carnage. "Why is everything charred?"

No answer was forthcoming. Frank was being silent. I wasn't sure it that was a good thing. Something on a nearby tree caught my attention. It was a note stuck to a tree by a large knife. "How original."

It was conveniently placed low enough my diminutive form could still reach it... barely. I had to stand on tiptoe. Fuck you Frank.

The note read:
Dear Billie,

Here's a lovely knife. Stab shit, don't die. We won't be able to talk for a while. I pissed off some important people. I'll miss ya toots,

      Love Frankie.

P.S. Walk east.

Under where the note had been stuck to the tree was an arrow and words look down carved in the bark. I looked down. "Oh, a compass rose! How convenient."

Maybe Frank is not so bad after all... maybe. I looked east. Nah, he's still a dick.

.....

I officially hated walking. At least walking in the forrest. My entire body itched from head to toe. Even in most awful and awkward places.

On the plus side, the first day I punched a fox in the face. However, it was the third day of walking and I was still naked. I needed clothes, and a bath, and food, real food.

Goals! Now for finding a path to complete these goals. Speaking of paths! A road! Success!

It was indeed a road. A dirt one, but a road nonetheless. Cutting through the forrest it ran north and south roughly. North sounded lucky so, I went south. My luck was shit.

I had found the road around midmorning. Walking until mid-afternoon I found a house, well more of a cabin really, made of rough cut boards and a thatched roof.

There was an old man sitting in a rocking chair smoking a pipe. He watched me as I approached. There was  short little stone path that lead to the steps to the porch. There at the bottom of the steps I stopped.

We watched each other for a moment silently. Puffing on his pipe he finally turned his head toward the door inside.

"Maggie! You have a guest." His voice was deep and hardened by the smoke. "For some reason or other the little lady is naked."