Never an After

Ten

Together, we rise.

We walk in silence, away from the lonesome, bloodied hill, from the forsaken castle of Argenta, the vengeful hero and the trusting villain.

Moments such as these are inexplicable; there comes a time when a connection comes between two people, the connection of near-death experience and the need to survive and take vengeance becomes strong enough not to need explanation. Events such as these do not demand to be answered, but only to be acknowledged.

We do not rest, and we do not give in to pass a word. We delve into the unforgiving woods.

Neither of us seems to notice when the sky gets darker and the fog more dense. Neither of us seems to hear the shrieking, crying wind or the rising grass or the branches that snap with sickening cracks. We simply keep treading into the unknown, unspeaking.

The utter silence would be disheartening to the brave, but we walk, never yielding, simply ignoring our surroundings; the sky has grown dark, the trees twisting around our ankles, the purple mist seeping through the cracks between the relentless trek.

I've lost my breath. This is it... I'm shaking, my legs are falling out from under me, and I'm tired. I can't go much farther, but still I hike on. There's no turning back now--

Two glowing eyes pierce the darkness.

A grin follows.

"How delightful of you to come by," purrs a soft, taunting voice, and with that, I see a flash of yellow dress clasped by gleaming claws, hear a scream that cracks the stars from the sky and I'm falling, falling down the rabbit hole.