Page 54 of Hell Breaks Loose

And a hunger in my very soul drags me forward.

It burns in my blood, through my veins.

Which for the first time, I notice as I pause to scratch my arm, stand out, dark against my skin.

Like there’s something sickly inside me.

“There is. It’s your lust, your greed. Your sin,” a hiss sounds behind me, and I spin, my breath suddenly labored, my skin crawling. Cold sweat slathers me from head to toe.

So I run.

Whatever is chasing me, harassing me, follows close behind. Watching me.

Hunting me.

“Give in.”

“Give up.”

“Find what you need. And take it.”

“Yes, child. You are broken. Embrace it.”

I run for miles. For hours.

Until I’m stumbling, my feet blistered, bleeding through my socks. Until I’m collapsed against a tree near an embankment, gasping and sobbing into my hands.

There is no escape.

Only fear. Hate. Longing.

But for what? I do not know.

Until I hear the car, the echoes of the motor ricocheting around me, surging a panic through my chest, awakening the need to run again.

Only I cannot.

I’m weak. Tired. Starving.

The bright blue sedan, and somehow I know what it’s called, comes into view, around the bend in the road ahead of me. At first, I think it won’t stop. That the driver won’t notice me.

When the car slows, however, I don't move.

I just sit there, staring at the glare on the window.

It glides down, revealing a woman.

Beautiful. With kind eyes.

She watches me, sees what a mess I am, and I know she will drive on.

Instead, she opens the door, stepping from the car and approaching me. Cautiously, she crouches down, resting a tentative hand on my knee.

“You poor thing. Do you need?—”

“Yes…” I grate out between chattering teeth. It’s so fucking cold. All the time.

“Then come with me. I’ll get you food. Get you cleaned up.”

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