Samuel Herring: The Curse of Midnight

Samuel Herring: Prologue

Prologue 

I thought my life was horrible. I thought nothing could get worse, that, my whole life, I would be stuck in this awful situation with no escape. And yet, thinking back, my troubles were trivial. Never was I wondering what would happen the next day, never was I wondering if I would be murdered.

            But that fateful day came, and everything changed. It happened like a gas attack. I had been walking lazily along a worn-out path. Trees lined the sides, casting broad shadows across the ground. A bird was chirping from somewhere nearby.

            When I first entered the woods, I didn’t really have a reason to be out here, besides to escape from the orphanage, even for a few minutes. But then I remembered the crude rabbit snare I had constructed out a few spare scraps of wire and metal, and decided to check it.

            A thick beam of golden sunlight came through the leafy canopy above, warming my body. These were the only times I could ever just rest. No work, no worries, just the quiet communication with nature.

            The fact that I was allowed out here was strange in itself. But after that horrible instance years ago, the owner of the orphanage had let me out. I hadn’t expected it at the time—I had thought it was a trap, a scheme—but eventually I got used to the occasional freedom I got when I had done my work well.  

            The sunlight grew orange as the sun began to dip down behind the horizon. At first I felt like I should turn back before it got dark, but decided that I had definitely come down this path enough times to know my way, even at night. After a few minutes, I came across a wall of hanging vines that told me I was getting close. Expertly, I brushed through the wall of vines, making sure to avoid the thick, thorny one in the middle. I didn’t need any more pains adding to the punishments that I had already received from the cruel orphanage I called home.

            The sun steadily sunk lower and lower, but my eyes automatically adjusted. After walking a few more minutes I noticed a tree had fallen and blocked the path. It looked pretty young, and I wondered why it had fallen. Either way, I climbed on top of it and stepped down heavily. Finally I reached the familiar hill that I had set the rabbit snare. I could see it, nestled between two clumps of fallen leaves. Evidently, there was no rabbit caught inside.

            I sighed. I had made a sort of hobby of catching those rabbits, and since I was allowed out so rarely these days, it was a pretty big disappointment to see that I hadn’t caught anything, even if it was just for entertainment.

            I turned around, descended the hill, and was about to leave the clearing when the event that would change my life forever happened. It started like this: I heard the neighing of a horse.

            What?

            I swiveled around, but nothing was there. There were no wild horses in the forest, or anywhere near here for that matter, as far as I knew. I heard the neighing again, louder, closer. And then the clip-clop of hooves.

            But where was it coming from? Where was the horse that seemed to be coming nearer? Was the sound in my head? On an instinct I began running back up the hill, hoping to escape whatever was coming, or at least see where the horse was.

            The sound of pounding hooves was filling my ears now; something I couldn’t see was just a few yards away. Still there was nothing in sight.

            “Air-walker! Hey! Stop!”

            I heard a loud voice, also coming from nowhere.