Short Stories

Sketchy

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The forest was quiet. Almost as if reality had been shifted into space where sound did not exist, only shadows. It was still. A uneasy, intimidating still.

The air was cold. A opprobrious cold that would bite at your skin and send shivers crawling down your limbs to the very tips of your fingers and toes. The atmosphere was a void. A evil devilsh void as if you were staring into the eyes of a voracious demon.

Quick fearful panting, a bare chest expanding and falling seconds between each breath. Panic filling lungs with every gasp of air.

The once blooming blue, pink, red and yellows pastel flowers were carefully covered in a light blanket of frost. An occasional black bird would fly over the ground and land on a stiff, mishapen tree branch. Its ebony wings beating the air with a ungraceful and jarring nature.

Meteoric thumping in the distance was growing louder and louder by the second. The impact of feet against frozen ground and crunching leaves was the only known sound.

There was a small body of water that had moss growing around the edge tangled together like some form of romantic gestures. Their ends dipped over the edge into the chilly water as if it were thirsty.

The water in the pond was numbing at the touch, but the season was not cold enough to preserve the pond just yet.

A cold, pale and shivering bare body fell to its bruised knees by the edge of the pond in a mess of trembling and wheezing wearing only a pair of tattered plad pants.

The boy shivered shakily holding his arms around his blue bare body that wore a frenzy of scars occumpained by chasmic purple kisses scattering his skin. Lumps of a spine struck out softly rolling underneath his skin as the boy sat back on his feet.

The boy's blue lips parted ajar, quivering breaths escaped through the slit. barely opened as he whispered ever so softly, a fog chasing his own words;

"Help him."

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