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SAUNTERING THROUGH THE woods alone was the last thing Quinton had on his bucket list, the last thing he thought he'd ever do; alas, it was a choice he made, one his younger self wouldn't have agreed with, maybe.
Like a badly rated horror movie, the woods seemed uneasy, in a certain light, in a certain person's mind; but to Quinton, it was just one of many forests, a little more dead than he preferred, yet a forest all the same. Besides, he would feel more uneasy if he found luscious green leaves on trees in autumn.
He found himself stopping at a fork in the path, sighing as he fixed his beanie; saying he didn't have time to think would have been a lie, all he could do out there was think: about the leafless trees, how crisp the air was, the numbness upon his fingertips.
A humourless chuckle let his lips as he took a path, unknowing where he was going, he didn't come to Spain to think about trees, to appreciate the air, he asked for a way out, and he got one. He wasn't seeking a fresh start, or to be some hollywood clichè runaway.
They definitely exaggerated things in films, make up some cheap plot and set it on the big screen for people to fill their heads with, a bullet to the abdomen is fine if you just shake it off. As Quinton got older, he realized what a waste of time it was to watch films like that.
A shift in the wind had him pulling his beanie down and pulling his jacket closer to his chest, maybe morning walks were a mistake this time of year.
" Hey, boy. " Quinton froze where he was, vision suddenly blurred; the trees were moving, swaying, as if stirred by the breeze, yet there were no sudden gusts of wind flowing through the forest.
He shut his eyes for a moment, yet the spinning continued within his head, causing his stomach to clench, like a boat, rocking upon the seawater.
His eyelids lifted, a small groan leaving his lips, the feeling leaving him breathless as he stumbled before coming to a full stop; his sudden halt caused pebbles and dirt to kick up beneath his shoes.
Pull yourself together, in and out remember? Though, it was easier thought of than done, for the spinning didn't cease, and this affliction left him swallowing any air he could take, yet no matter how much he inhaled, he still felt as if he were choking.
He was panicking, knowing full well the disappointment within his doctor at his apprehension; but calm and collected was foreign in Quinton's vocabulary.
Lost in his troubled mind, he failed to notice the snapping of twigs around him, nor the presence that grew ever so closer, whispers of a language, words foreign to him.
Unnoticeable, until a sharp, piercing pain entered near the nape of his neck, his eyes quickly flickering behind him long after the feeling left him; shocked to see three, middle aged men standing before him, their irises glowing amber -- or was his mind deceiving him?
" Wha.. what the hell? " Quinton's words were incoherent upon his lips, but clear within his mind; mayhaps his speech was slurred, for it seemed they didn't understand him; either or, he didn't know.
He placed a foot in front of him, but stumbled, falling into a mix of bright orange and darkened brown; his eyes failed to adjust to the hazy glow of the daylight, his muscles feeling strained and exhausted.
The last thing he saw, before conscienceness was all but lost to him, was a flash of red.
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i know, only six - hundred words, but i usually make my prologues so long. ( usually five - hundred to six - hundred words. ) the chapters onwards will be more around a thousand to two thousand words, and they will be far more detailed, i promise. 😔
