Page 296 of Castings & Curses

“Yeah? Where’s yours then?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

They grunt, then turn on their heels.

“She won’t go far, anyway. Those woods are cursed. She’ll be back...”

“Yeah, or she’ll be dead by morning.”

The voices fade as the two men retrace their steps back to the property’s grounds. When I can’t hear them anymore, I sit up and let out a massive sigh of relief before excruciating pain takes my breath away. I wince as I massage my arm where the bullet has grazed me, then my swollen ankle. I’m bruised all over and everything hurts, but I can’t cry, not yet. My head is still buzzing from the rush.

These woods are cursed.

“Yeah, I bet they are,” I whisper to myself, scanning my surroundings. “This whole fucking night is cursed.”

I get on my knees and brush leaves and dirt off my ripped shirt and skirt before pulling on a low branch to get up. I test my ankle, but the pain is too strong. Back on all four, I feel around in the damp moss and crunchy ground for a stick that I could use as a cane. No luck. Well, fuck. I’ll have to bite through the pain until I find something.

“OK, Rowan, time to get a move on.”

This I do, almost entirely sightless, even as my eyes have gotten accustomed to the night. Dark as a pot of freshly brewed coffee indeed. I stumble my way through the dense undergrowth, bumping into thick trees and rocks, advancing come what may on an altogether uneven terrain. Determination has taken the reins and gives me the patience to go slow but ever onward, because let’s face it, there’s no way on Earth I’d go back now. What the heck was, anyway? Armed guards firing crowd control ammo? And for what? Just so I wouldn’t leave?

“These people are sick,” I mutter to the endless darkness around me.

Silence answers me, stiff, oppressing. Not an owl hoots, no rodents scurry. I used to spend nights in the woods as a kid, camping with my dad. There were always sounds, weird noises that freaked me out. Knocks on wood, animal cries, leaves crunching. But now, nothing. Or rather, an absence of everything, which is somehow worse.

These woods are cursed.

A shiver runs down my spine. The ominous atmosphere doesn’t bode well at all. Maybe I’ve been rash. Would they shelter me now, after my rebellion? I look back but have no idea where I am or where I’ve come from. I can’t even tell how long I’ve been roaming without aim either.

“Stupid girl... You had to go and do it, didn’t you? Always the impulsive one... Well, look where it took you this time.” I glance around, unease clutching harder at my guts.

A distant rustling hits my ears, followed by more leaves crumpling. Seems like I’m not alone after all. My instincts tell me to run, because if I can hear it from this far, then it means it’s something heavy and big. And it’s coming my way.

A sudden howl blisters the silence, curling my blood. The rustling becomes more pressing; it comes closer, faster.

Adrenaline shoots through my veins once again and survival takes the helm of my body and mind. I run. Forward. Fast. The rustling’s approaching. Faster. My hands hit trunks, branches lash at my face. I fumble and stumble, but I move as fast as I can in the dark, strange woods. Until I fall on grass.

A meadow, and above, the stars, their light a beacon after the obscurity of the woods. Overhead stands a building, and I crawl towards it. No light shines through the windows, but the imposing edifice looks sturdy and safe. Safer than here, now. Growls slither through my ears directly into my brain. UP. RUN.

The double oak door keeps on getting further, or perhaps it’s my brain playing tricks on me. I reach it panting, breathless. My heart pumps in my throat and pain lingers underneath my fear, ready to pounce. I batter at the gate with all that’s left of my might.

“Let me in! Please let me in!” Tears slither down my cheek in rapid rivulets.

The door’s locked, and no sign of life comes from inside. But the growls are fast approaching.

“Help! Please! Open the door!”

Exhausted and losing hope fast, I break into sobs and crumble against the wood panels, just about ready to give up. But my last shreds of determination—or is it just masochism?—push me to face my impending doom, so I turn around, as steady as I can muster to be. Well, nothing has ever prepared me for the sight meeting my tearful eyes.

A beast not unlike a wolf but standing on hind legs, hands and feet as gigantic as paddles with humongous claws gleaming in the starry light. I make out the fangs in its maw against the backdrop of the forest, white and glistening with saliva. Its eyes shine a vicious red.

The monster pauses only a few feet away, assessing me, sniffing my scent. As it licks its chops and prepares to leap, I know my death has arrived.

CHAPTER5

Beads of sweatand tears blind me as I claw my way back onto my feet and turn my back on the monster, battering the doors, sobbing and whining like a newborn babe.

“Please... Let me in...”

---