Rebelsong

Life: Flashing Before My Eyes

The sun bearing down ferociously on my back; I lift myself from my collapsed state. Behind me I hear the crash and clang of huge metal bells: soon they’ll be upon me; their stalagmite fangs; waterfalls of hair; dark-void eyes.

I pick myself off the floor and begin to limp forward, the wound in my legs still teaming with crimson blood. I hold my leg as I run and try to calculate my path through the dense forest around me. Behind me, the rattling of chains and the creaking of ancient wood sounds out; they’re coming. I try to quicken my pace but I can feel the blood gushing from my leg.

The vibrations in the ground signal that the faefolk are near and there are many. Caught between a small clearing and a dense thicket, I have nowhere left to run. I begin to panic: I turn around trying to find something I can climb; all the trees here present no footholds.

 I anxiously press forward into the small clearing and then on into the trees at the other side. I turn my head to the left, and then the right; I can see torches following me on both sides.

Seeing no alternative, I take refuge in a small group of bushes; big enough to cover my body, but small enough so that it isn’t obvious that I’m hiding there. A rogue thorn pokes into my leg; I bite my lip to stop from screaming. Small tears well up in the corners of my eyes, stinging them.

I keep silent and try not to rustle the bushes. Through a tiny hole that presents itself between bushes, I able to catch a glimpse of two faefolk; they speak in a strange tongue, which I take as being fae: “Oportet invenire puer. Eum ad Kaloe: mortuus aut vivere.” They split in different directions and scout for me again. I can’t stay here; I’ll be found. I have to move. 

I leave it another minute and then decide to rise out of the bushes. Other than the rustling of wildlife against leaves and branches, all is silent. I cover the gaping hole in my leg, the pain is searing and more tears well up; my eyes now sore. The tears obscure my vision; I wipe them away with the back of my hand- stained with blood. I pull a huge, emerald dock leaf from a nearby plant and use it to cover the wound. It doesn’t soothe the pain as it does with nettles, but does help to stop the flow of blood.

Slowly, the pain seems to subside; pressure upon that leg, however, still causes blinding pain. The sun above is beginning to fade evanescently sending brilliant shades of orange and red in all directions: flowing like rivers; untouched by darkness.

Any energy I may have had has evaporated; my eyelids seem so heavy now. I have to find some form of cover; if I’m spotted they’ll surely take me back to Kaloe and I can bet that escape won’t be so easy.

Ahead me, I am relieved to see a huge oak amidst a sea of endless green. It’s not far from me. I press on towards it; trying to keep my weight on my good leg. My view of the trunk is obscured by a group of inconveniently place bushes.

I start to push my body through the bushes; I stop. Voices; coming from the other side. I use my hands to separate a group of leaves. Through the gap I see the faefolk from earlier: looking directly at me. “You really think we didn’t see you?”

The voice of one of the faefolk causes shivers to creep up my body. How long have they known? “We’ve been following you; in the shadows, through trees. Did you really think we were that stupid?” His last remark chills me to the bone: I look down to observe the bush I’m in- Poison Ivy.

An itching sensation erupts along my arms and onto my hands, spreading around my body like a conflagration. I jump forwards from the bush, my upper body itching uncontrollably. I rub up against a nearby tree; the bark wearing away at my blazing skin.

The two faefolk walk slowly towards me; I can’t do anything- I’m too busy trying to stop myself from wearing my skin to the bone. They’re getting closer by the second: as they walk one bares his huge, eager fangs while the other draws a blade from his belt; much like Kaloe’s except his is of iron and doesn’t reflect the light such as his does.

A sudden roar rings out from the west. The two faefolk’s faces light up with terror. They quickly turn and begin to race towards a dense patch of forest, screaming in a foreign tongue as they do. I keep ripping away at my skin and then fall to the ground. The bushes- where I once was- rustle loudly and through a hole my body made a huge set of teeth, oozing with saliva poke through. I try to lay still but the itching is too severe. I slowly shuffle backwards towards the oak, the itching still wildly uncontrollable. The creature, whatever it is, turns and stampedes in the direction the faefolk ran in.

I pull my hands behind my back and try to stop from scratching. My eyelids are incredibly heavy but I can’t sleep; they could come back, that thing could come back. Above; the sun begins to fall behind the horizon and stars begin to light like torches.