The Grimm Dossier

Chapter 25 - The Red Scarf - Part II

What happened in the forest shortly before...

England, West Coast
Devonshire, Dartmoor
St George5 November 1898, 01:51 hrs.

White haze accompanied each of her breaths. The night was frosty cold and the full, round moon turned its face away from the sight in the depths of the forest behind some clouds. Mud smacked under each of Sandra's steps as she fled limping forward. Her lungs were burning so badly that every breath seemed like fire to her. Needles were pricking her chest and lungs by now. Still, she ran. Onwards. On and on. She could think of nothing else. That, and those glowing eyes, the slavering mouth, and the sharp teeth.

Dry branches crackled under her feet. Whenever she touched the forest floor, the pain drove through her left foot like a hot knife blade. Hot blood stood out against her cold skin and the splattering mud that jumped up at her when she stepped into one of the puddles. Her right shoe was missing, she had lost it somewhere in the run. Nevertheless, she kept running, driven by sheer fear. Roots, twigs, stones, and undergrowth stabbed her flesh. Pointed branches tore at her nightdress and thorny plants drew bloody wounds into her skin. Scratches, but she hardly felt them because of the bottomless fear. Again and again, she heard cracking and rustling. Paws chasing her. Her fear kept her running, even when she thought she couldn't take another step. But at some point, her strength was spent, her mind as lame as her limbs.

Rough bark scratched her fingers as she leaned against one of the trunks. Panicked, her eyes darted around. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, rushing like a wild river, dragging every clear thought into the far distance. Desperately, the young lips gasped for air. Her legs were heavy and powerless - so soft that she thought she might collapse at any moment. Weighed down as if by lead, her chest rose and fell, sucking the cool air greedily into her lungs. She had long since lost her way in the pathless forest, and the lights of the village were no longer visible. Sandra did not know why she had run into the forest. How could she have been so stupid?! Hot tears burned on her reddened cheeks, leaving bright marks on her dirty skin.

Whimpering, Sandra felt for her leg. Blood was oozing and sticking to her nightdress. The girl sobbed out because the pain was so terrible and her slender body trembled under the shock of the injury. "Papa... Mama..." She wiped her hands haphazardly over her face and eyes, smearing red smears of her blood from her hands here and there on the pale skin. She brushed the long brown hair from her face, in which leaves and a few torn pieces of small twigs had become entangled, while her breath quivered.

Sandra was crying, whimpering for her mother and father. She wanted to go back home. She did not understand what was happening here or why it was happening to her of all people. She begged God for help and rescue, prayed, and begged. Low murmurs spilled from her lips and she huddled against a broad trunk between its roots.

At that moment, a dark laugh echoed out from between the trunks, as if the devil himself had heard her pleading prayer to the Creator and wanted to make fun of it. Sandra's head went up, and a strand caked with blood slipped over her shoulder. Immediately she held her breath, and her eyes widened. But nothing but dark shadows surrounded her, the mist that blurred the shapes... then a loud crack reached her ears. A thick branch broke under the heavy weight of a body. Sandra pushed herself up into the air. Her heart nearly overturned as she laid her trembling limbs against the root of the tree. Moss tickled under her fingers, and a leaf trundled down and fell silently to the ground. Her gaze searched for the source of the sound, the rustling. And found it in yellow eyes between black, ruffled fur.