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Being Hunted

Updated on April 18, 2016

The sun was hidden, behind a veil of grey clouds giving a gloomy grey above. Not that she could see much of the sun anyway with a thick canopy around the forest. The trees were as tall as cathedrals. Molly had been on the run for a long time now. She had lost track after the first two weeks. She might have been an excellent hunter and forager, being a ranger but she was still no match against the forces that were chasing her like a pack of wolves.

Molly paused for a few moments, the musky, damp smells making her nose wriggle. She smelt the faint scent of death nearby. Probably an animal. Or at least she hoped it was an animal. She creased her face, pushing away those thoughts. It would be soon dark, blacker than the inside of a coffin. She needed to be out of here before then. She must be half way through it or more now. Her eyes flickered down on the ground. It was wet and splattered with leaves. It was hard to see the forest floor itself with all the foliage. She instinctively reached out with her stick, touching the ground. It wasn't too bad.

Molly had taken two steps when she heard the sound of voices drifting her way, with an accompanying hell hound's bark that sent a shiver down her spine. She hated those demonic creatures. The thoughts of them, chasing her. Several answering barks came. She looked over her shoulder. She felt her stomach tighten. How far away were they? She chewed the inside of her cheeks, biting furiously.

It was them, there was no doubt in her mind. She stifled the lingering memories of what they did to her sister, trying to suppress them. She drew a breath, before breaking into a sprint, throwing leaves up into the air in her wake. She started to run towards the nearest tree but a black shape zipped over her that she barely registered before it landed. Canine teeth, empty eyes, skeletal plates that ran across its body all the way down to its tail. Decaying fur underneath. It snapped it's jaws and started a charge, Molly braced herself and swung with both hands with her stick, drawing a green oozing blood. It hissed and snarled, showing rows of jagged teeth, back pedalling... Molly swung out again but the animal was learning as it jumped out of the way. Maybe magic might help. She dared to take a hand from the stick and reached out with chlorokinesis and used it on the plants; roots wrapped around its legs. It tugged, and growled, and struggled but it wouldn't budge. It wouldn't hold it for too long but long enough to matter. She ran, darting beyond the trees. Her heart was thumping in her chest. Thump-thump-thump.

One of the dogs closed in--she heard the sound of its growling that came first, that was quickly followed by the panting. She turned just at the right time, seeing it leap up towards her. It came down with claws first. Molly tried to dodge but claws caught her shoulder, tearing through fabric. She shrieked loudly and whacked it with the stick drawing a green oozing blood that stained her stick. She wasted no time to smack it again with both hands; bones cracking as it made contact. The creature howled, stepping backwards weighing up whether or not to attack again. She swallowed and ran.

Less than half an hour later she was thrown into darkness, the sun finally setting. Fortunately Molly had found a tree to rest upon, high up in the branches. The cold, darkness itching to embrace her. She struggled against sleeping until it's hold tightened its grip. A wind howled through the branches but everything quiet after that.

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