Bad Things Never Die (Discontinued)

Chapter 22

Location: The Woods

Y/N's POV

It wasn't until the sun began to set when I decided I should stop for some food. I had been riding for hours through the dense trees, following a long-forgotten mud path that wound through the forest. I'd come to the conclusion that it was an old path for traders that journeyed through the forest in search of a new location to sell their goods. I'd come up with the idea as I sat atop the horse Punz had provided me with, trying my hardest to keep myself from getting bored. I did attempt to play eye spy to begin with, but quickly worked out that it wasn't the best game to play when you were alone, so thinking about the path's lore had been the next best option.

I guided the horse through the forest for a couple more minutes in search of a clearance in the trees or at least somewhere where I could set up camp for the night. It didn't take me long to find a small patch of grass. Too hungry to continue, I slowed the horse to a halt and slipped off his back. The horse was on the tall side and completely black in colour, making him blend in with the dark shadows of the trees that surrounded us. Pulling the rucksack off my back, I began to rummage through it in search of a lead. It didn't take me long to find it and soon enough I had my companion attached to a nearby tree so he wouldn't run off while I cooked. Making sure he had enough room to move around, I dropped my bag beside him and headed off to find some wood for the fire I was planning on making.

Darkness was coming quicker than I thought it would so as I pushed passed yet another branch, I decided it would be best if I set up camp once I got back with the firewood. I picked up sticks and branches off the ground as I walked, not wanting the damage the trees by snapping off the branches even though it would've made my life a lot easier. Reaching down to grab another stick, a shiver shot down my spine. I went ridged, suddenly realising how cold it was. I don't know when the temperature dropped or how I didn't notice, but I was able to see white puffs of air every time I exhaled.

Something wasn't right.

I'm not sure if it was instinct or the sudden rush of DeJa'Vu that washed over me that made me realise the stillness of the leaves. Scrambling to pick up one last stick, I decided to head back to my makeshift campsite. Only I couldn't work out which way I'd come from. Each way I looked seemed the same and the more I looked, the more disoriented I became. All I wanted was to get away from the place that cause me so much trouble but maybe the trouble just followed me. Picking a direction, I began to walk, making sure I was aware of my surrounding to see if anything seemed familiar. It didn't.

But I continued on, burying the unsettlingly feeling that consumed me deep down in an attempt to ignore it. Yet it wouldn't go away. I don't know how to describe the way I was feeling. Scared. On edge. Like I was being watched. It was a mixture of all three. It was difficult to see. The last remaining rays of light were blocked by the thick canopy above me, leaving me in almost complete darkness. There was no wind or noise at all, just the sound of my footsteps as I stepped on some leaves. Clutching my pile of sticks close, I continued. Avoiding the low branches had become a lot more difficult since I didn't want to drop any of my sticks.

Maybe that's how I didn't notice him until he was in front of me. Maybe I was too focused on not dropping anything to notice the silhouette. How had he gotten close enough for me to roughly make out without me realising?

And all it took was for me to notice the gap between his cloak and the floor before I started running.

Many sticks were lost in my travels, but I eventually heard the wind again. That didn't make me stop. I only slowed to a walk once I was completely out of breath. Clutching my knees as I heaved more air into my lungs, I blinked. Right in front of me was the hem of a cloak. Suspended in the air. Gulping and realising I had no escape; I slowly lifted my head to meet his mask. The demented letters were already staring me down.