Raven's Crook

Prologue

The only thing she could hear was the blood rushing to her head. She knew she didn't have much time, but her breath was coming in short gasps and she would never make it without stopping to rest. She leaned against the rough brick wall and gulped down lung full after lung full of oxygen. The night was cold, even for September. She was scantily clothed as it was, dressed in tattered rags and frayed pants. She wore no shoes- her feet were covered in cuts and blisters. She tried to ignore the feeling of broken glass embedded in her flesh. She would have to keep moving if she wanted to get to her destination alive.

He was coming. She could feel it, deep in her bones. She could feel the dread, frozen and paralyzing. It creeped up her spine, threatening to stop her in her tracks.

No. Don't stop now. She shook her head as if just emerging from frigid water and took in one more breath of air. She wouldn't stop. She would run. She would make it. She had to warn the others.

She stooped low, staying close to the wall and keeping cover in the shadows. Each step was agony, but it was worth it. She made her way through the alley and stopped only when she got to the street. She felt safe for a brief moment. Safe for the first time in months.

But then she realized how deserted the city was.

It couldn't have been past nine o' clock. It should have been bustling with activity. The city was dead. Ghostly, even.

Then, the chill came. It enveloped her, covered her already frosty body. She heard a whisper on the wind, calling her name. It was so quiet that her mind could have made it up. It was faint, hypnotizing.

"Stop running," it breathed, filling her head with more hopelessly cold air, "Accept it. Do not run. You are not in danger."

It was so light. So...delicious.

"You...are tired. You are exhausted. You only want to rest." The voice grew louder, taking on a sultry, seductive tone.

She was tired. The last few months had been exhausting. So much torture. So much pain. She was tired of hurting. She was tired of running only to be captured again. She was tired of being a target.

"Yes...embrace it. Wait, wait for me. I will give you what you desire most. You must surrender yourself to me." It was almost like a snake. The way the s's rolled. The way it breathed and hissed.

"M-maybe..." She stammered weakly, "I will lie down. I'm so tired..."

"Yes..." The word trailed off as if dissipating into thin air. She felt herself melt. Her knees grew weak. Her body began to go limp.

Then something crashed into her from behind, knocking her to the ground with a dull thud and jolting her from her trance.

Live. I have to live. She forced herself to roll over, throwing the figure on top of her onto the asphalt. It was him. She knew it. He reeked of pine needles and dirt. He was lithe and dark. She had never seen any details of his face- but she would always remember the smell.

He rolled back on to her, letting out a savage screech that sounded anything but human. He grabbed her by her shoulders and yanked her upwards before slamming her back into the ground. She felt her skull crack, and then her ears filled with ringing. The back of her head instantly felt warm and sticky. Her nose filled with the scent of copper.

He lifted her again, but before he could smash down she balled up her fist and collided it with his jaw as hard as she could. Her knuckles stung from the impact but he faltered for a moment, giving her enough space to jam her knee into his chest and send him reeling backward. It was enough time for her to get to her feet, but he took a hold of her ankle and tugged hard enough to smack her back down to the asphalt. She hit the ground face first, crushing the bridge of her nose on impact. The pain was sharp and searing, but it was something she was already accustomed to.

She kicked at him forcefully, but he was too strong for her. He pulled himself up her body and managed to flip her back over. He clasped his hands around her neck and held her down with the force of a vice grip. He put his mouth close to her ear and seethed, "You're going to die, witch."

She gasped for air, feeling around for something- anything- that could be her salvation. There was nothing on the ground, not even any rocks. She was desperate, running out of time. Her vision was blurring. It was almost over. Dying...dying...

In a last attempt at freedom, she put her hands on his waist and tried to push. But one of her hands landed on something hard. Something metal. She felt around, very nearly smiling in victory when she realized what she was holding. She grabbed the hilt, pulling the knife from its sheath. He had no time to react- she drove it into his side like he was warm butter.

He screeched a purely animal screech and recoiled from her as if he was a wounded dog.

She coughed and sucked in sweet air, pushing herself to her feet. She did not take any time to regain her composure. She was choking on blood, her vision was blurry, and she couldn't breathe.

But she ran.