Hunted


Image source: johnknifton.com


She felt she was being followed.

She glanced back nervously. It was afterall a lonely place. The wind was billowing and the faint scent of autumn was in the air. She clutched her jacket tighter around her body and hurried on. She heard- or thought she heard- a rustling behind her in the brush. She stopped to peer nervously into the brush then she resumed her walk. In the loneliness of the place and the near silence of the night, every sound around her seemed amplified. She was getting fearfull now. She just needed to get out of there as fast as she could and into to the shelter of her home.

She quickened her pace with her pulse racing. She heard a twig snapped, the sound loud in her ear. She knew for sure that was being followed. She thought she heard a low rumbling sound from the brush- a low sound with an animal quality to it. She panicked and started to run. Just then, the Werewolf jumped out of the brush and raced after her. She looked back once and cried out in fright. Then she was knocked down, the Werewolf on top of her, saliva dripping from its snout. She could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage. Her breathing came in shut gasps.

She felt the weight of the Werewolf lift off her. She was afraid to turn; to look. She started to whimper knowing for sure that this was the end for her. Then she felt its claw tear at her back. She screamed, the pain coming from deep within her. The Werewolf thrust its claw into her back then bit deep into her neck, killing her.

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