Author's Note: 69Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo8pypj35xs
Today is day one of daily posts! It just so happens to be the introduction of a new character. I wanted to do this for two reason though. One, there is a challenge on another platform to have a certain amount of words posted in 30 days... Hopefully I signed up for it correctly. And B, I am sacrificing the buffer to get to the next part of the story! 69Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2TXqAfJafV
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘₊ ⊹ Soul 𓉸 Rejected ⊹ ₊⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘69Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3xWakt86Wc
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Julian awoke on his back, staring at a pale full moon peeking through the treetops. He had a clear view of the starry night sky through a hole in the tree canopy made by his descent.69Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMLhlZZ6opb
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This was an unfamiliar sight for him. He should have been looking up at his bedroom ceiling. And beneath him should have been a mattress on his bedroom floor, not the mud soaking into the fabric of his pajamas.
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He shouldn’t be here. He couldn't be here– wherever “here” was.
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He had school tomorrow. Not that he really wanted to go to school. He hated everyone there. Even the teachers. But they told his father that if he skipped another day, he’d be expelled.
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Something kicked his leg, interrupting his thoughts and that something fell to the mud next to him with a splash. A man, sprinting through the forest in the middle of the night, had tripped over Julian.
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He turned his groggy head to his left where the man had landed. He stared with weary eyes, letting them adjust to darkness trying to fixate on recognizable shapes and edges. The details of that face slowly became woven from midnight, shaping into something human and discernable. The man's complexion was so dark that the night was nearly enough to disguise where the mud ended and his face began. It was just a moment, so the only thing Julian could see clearly was the piercing white of a pair eyes filled to the brim with sheer dread staring back at him.
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He was terrified.
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The fleeting moment passed, along with any opportunity to ask questions. The strange man looked back the way he came before stumbling to his feet again and sprinting deeper into the woods. Another man, then another, each slapped leaves and mud with bare feet, splashing drops of the cold forest floor into the air and onto Julian's bewildered face.
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This couldn't have been a dream. The mud felt too real. Not to mention the soreness he felt in his ankle from being kicked by a grown man going full speed.
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This was certainly real.
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That might also mean that the monster peeling open his bedroom like a tin can moments ago could have been real too. A paralysis demon ripping off the ceiling, reaching towards him and chanting some nonsense language didn’t usually fall anywhere near the realm of reality. Floating towards the ceiling in a crackling purple portal might have been a dream, but maybe, just maybe, it was a memory of events leading up to his current predicament. Though this was unlikely.
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One thing he knew for sure, he was really in a forest and those were some real dudes running scared. His natural instinct was to start running too but still, the question nagged him. The question of who they were running from.
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Barking sounded from the distance in the direction the men came, accompanied by voices. He snapped upright when he heard the sound of raised voices.
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"Get on, boy! Get! Get!"
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He didn’t like the way they said “boy.”
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The barking grew louder. So did the yelling. A soft orange light flickered on trees in the distance.
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“I think I see one! Go on, girl, let’s go.”
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Julian felt fear swelling in his gut. This must have been what those men were running from. He didn’t wait to find out. He sprung to his feet and took off after them.
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The ground was soft and muddy in some areas beneath him. ‘Quick’ was usually an understatement when it came to Julian’s running. But this time, the sludge of the forest floor didn’t let go of his feet easily. The mud suctioned and the leaves threatened to slip from beneath him with each stride. Its resistance strained his muscles.
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The sounds of the pursuers drew closer behind him, but the burning in his legs grew, refusing to take him any faster. This was no track, not the neighborhood pavement. This was a treacherous forest with bushes and sticks that cut his shins and the bottoms of his feet.
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He could feel danger caress his neck, skin crawling at the sound of disembodied footsteps lockstep on his tail. He ducked under branches, weaved steps between rocks and dodged bushes until a fallen log seemed to emerge from the darkness underfoot. He leaped but his foot slid instead of finding purchase, stealing the landing from him. His momentum sent him face first into a puddle of mud.
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He righted himself with a quickness but looking behind him, the orange light of torches paint tree trunks that were far closer than he would’ve liked. Hope seemed to recede with the shadows as the light illuminated the bark of trees around him.
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This wasn’t like the light that brightens a room. Sure, it would, but the fiery glow was more like a consuming light. It was looking for something or someone. But it was impartial, willing to find anything and anyone for the sole purpose of engulfing them. This light made someone want to be counted among the hidden.
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Now, he was soaked head to toe in mud and leaves, weighing down the shirt and gym shorts he wore to bed. If it was difficult to run before, he doubted he stood a better chance with the added weight. He wouldn’t increase the distance between them by trying to run again.
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He wiped his face and squinted into the shadows cowering from pursuers. Only a few feet from him jutted a low hung branch that looked barely strong enough to hold his weight. There was no time. They were close.
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He shook off some of the mud weighing him down, and struggled to ascend the tree. Maybe it was the mud or maybe his palms were the ones soaking the bark beneath his grip. Either way, it felt to him like the very distance from the ground was pulling him by the collar, backwards and toward the earth again.
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Within mere seconds, the trunk grew narrow and the forest grew small beneath him.
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In that span, the hunting party quickly trampled the footprints he left in the mud only a moment ago.
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Julian didn’t dare move an inch or so much as breath. He didn’t know who this crew of night crawlers were, but he could tell that he didn’t want to garner their attention. He clung, frozen, both physically but also in temperature as a night breeze chilled the wet remnants of mud coating his skin.
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At the base of the trees, the hunting party slowed a little with the dogs that lingered only for a moment to investigate a scent they can’t seem to place. Four men and three dogs passed beneath him with a feminine figure with a bandana over her mouth and nose lagging close behind. Each of the men had shotguns strapped over their shoulder and a leashed dog or torch in each hand.
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But it was the woman who caught his eye. She seemed to notice something the others overlooked. Julian watched her slow her pace as she passed the mud that Julian just crawled out of. It was clearly illuminated by the fire of the torches that lingered for approximately two eternities.
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He could see her head tilt, examining the mud, tracing the tracks and divots in the sludged surface. Her head clearly followed a set of tracks in the ground. She traced the steps like a predator looming over her prey, following the trail that led to the base of Julian’s tree.
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Her gaze remained affixed on the bark for ages, picking a soggy leaf from the first branch Julian used to climb the tree. She twisted the stem of the leaf between her finger and thumb, the leaf limply spun along as she stared at it. When she finally released it, she didn’t watch it fall. Instead, she looked further up the trunk, tilting her head back to follow the trunk all the way up.
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Julian could see her from where he clung to the branches. He could see her pale skin glowing in the orange light, partially concealed by the bandana covering the bottom half of her face. He could see the whites of her searching eyes glint in the flickering flames, even as the men began their search again and the torches moved away. That predatory glare. Her eyes ripped leaves off branches and peeled away stray twigs, trying to find some fault in their design. Something off. Something not shaped the way a tree should. Something man-shaped.
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Her gaze didn't relent, climbing higher than most men would dare go and searching limbs that could never support a man’s weight. If Julian wasn't so thin and nimble, he would have never made it as high as he did. Still, it took her only seconds before her eyes finally rested on him.
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His heart dropped to the roots.
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He didn’t dare move.
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Her eyes narrowed, squeezing out the shimmer of the torches as they drifted deeper into the forest without her. She was so far down and so small, he couldn't tell exactly what she was looking at. But it looked a lot like she was staring right at him.
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He wanted to cling tighter, but he didn't, any movement might give him away. He wanted to close his eyes and wake back up in his bed, but that was never an option. He felt small and helpless. Just like always.
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She took a half step closer, tilting her head to the side. She might not know it, but she was locked in perfect eye contact with Julian.
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"Yeee! That's a boy, righ’ therr! Yee yee, yeeww!" A man’s voice called from where the rest of the hunting party continued.
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Her head snapped to the sound like a bear trap. She didn’t offer the tree a second glance before starting towards the commotion.
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Julian choked on the breath he was holding, barely able to muffle the sound.
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She had already moved on but the impression she left in the forest lingered. It was like the crickets refused to chirp so as not to draw too attention. He couldn’t help but feel like she could have him killed with a single word. He had never felt that before tonight.
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Even when he was mugged, he never felt he was going to die. Something about her eyes told him that there was no mercy in that soul. He was helpless. There was no Dad, no cops, nor high school administrators. Just him and that force wearing a bandana over her face
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Hopeless.
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Helpless.
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And stuck up a tree.
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She left! It’s time to move…
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Go.
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His body refused him.
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Move.
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His grip didn’t loosen.
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Move!
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He obeyed himself at last, descending with trepidation. At the tree base, he watched the woods darken and the light of torches faded. Without the presence of danger, he started to feel silly for letting such an innocuous event shake him. Of course, he was never in any real danger.
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This must be a dream, how could I have gotten here?
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He should've just power-punched that woman to the moon or something for scaring him.
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He turned around and took a step back the way he came before freezing in place.
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If it was a dream, there would be no reason to walk away. So why leave?
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He figured if this was a dream then he would go towards the danger, not away. And the mere fact that he considered it danger was a clear sign that deep down, he knew this wasn't a dream. It was all perfectly logical. And if it wasn't a dream…
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I tripped that man.
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They were caught because of me.
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He stared down at the footprints that carved the wet clay. Their edges reflected the moonlight brightly.
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What happens when those men get caught?69Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnxV7PpDm60
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