MCYT: Short Stories

VI: Bloody Snares

- Hey! It's been a while. Got a fun story here today :3
(Yes, unfortunately it is just a re-upload for now, but I did make some edits)

Characters: TeamCrafted

Warning: Major gore, blood, violence, death, body horror, disturbing descriptions, swearing

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Bloody Snares
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It was before the hour had even struck Alan knew there was something wrong.

Churning and roiling round his stomach went, his gut clenching uncomfortably tight and his chest constricting until it felt there was no air left in his lungs to breathe. A heavy weight hovered over his shoulders, whispering in his ears, tangling its fingers through his hair, scraping into his skull. In the corner of his mind something pulsed, aching, pounding strong with the beat of his heart, screaming to be acknowledged. It crawled coldly down his spine, writhing beneath his skin, knotting within his nerves.

Alan forced himself to breathe.

The air was stale and icy, setting a simmering cold to loom within his mouth and freeze down his throat, his hot breath visible in billowing puffs of twirling vapor. The bitter frost nipped at his fingers, seeping into the thick confinements of his clothing and tearing its teeth into his flesh, gnawing at his bones. His lips felt dry and his tongue shot out to moisten them, the rancid taste of anxious bile lingering on the roof of his mouth. His red nose was runny, and he sniffled, feeling his cheeks flush with heat as the cold gnawed away at his burning skin.

His eyes wouldn't leave the blood trail.

It stained the blanket of snow covering the ground, winding through the packed pristine crystals like a fresh river of lava slithering down steaming rock. The crimson ribbon etched in the white ground was too bright, too vibrant against the paleness of the snow. It cut through like a jagged scar, freshly sliced with a shaking hand. It bled and bled deep into the forest, where it was eventually lost within the unseeable depths of nature's finest city. The blanket of snow was ruffled, scrunched up and lacking its silky surface. The craters of hasty footprints and other deep gouges marked the crimson trail, the fine ribbon twisting and twirling within the messy grooves.

Whatever was bleeding had been running. Injured, wounded, hurt.

Hot bile bubbled in his throat. Alan pushed it down, forcing himself to breathe.

Pull yourself together, Skylen.

The male beside him shifted.

"I'm going after him."

The response was immediate.

"No, Jerome."

Storming slate eyes flicked toward him, but Alan didn't meet them. He regarded the large animal beside him with a twitch of his arm. "Nobody's going. It's broad daylight."

"We can save him."

Alan forced back the urge to snarl. "We don't know how far he's in."

"Which is why we should follow," the second man on his left demanded. Hard sapphire eyes were concealed by a gleaming shield of shades that reflected the bright snow like a dark mirror. Alan glanced at him, meeting an expression of stone. "He could be right nearby. You're going to leave him when he could be so close?"

Alan turned his gaze to the ground. The snow was bright, too bright. He could feel the simmering burn in his retinas, even behind the solid protection of his own shades. The fear in his stomach roiled into a tight knot of remorse. "I said no, Ian."