Speechless
Mmmmm hai! Yea this isnt my first story, but its the first one i have felt comfortable enough with to share :3 this is just teh prolouge... its kinda dark and scawwy O.o but it wont always be this way! 'Njoy!
He sprinted desperately down the empty street, feet pounding the sidewalk making loud, echoing thumps that only he seemed to hear. Where was everyone? Why was no one there to help him? His breathing was labored and rasping.
But none of this mattered, he had to run. Run. Run. None of this was happening; it was a dream. Yea, that was it. His steps slowed; there was nothing to worry about. He turned to face his pursuer. He was only 14, he wasn’t going to die. Of course he wasn’t. It was a dream.
He often had strange dreams, how was this any different? And, in his dreams, he often had the same exact thoughts that were running through his mind earlier, that he had to run and couldn’t stop. But strangely, he usually didn’t realize his dream was a dream. Why this dream?
The dark figure that had been chasing him stepped into the light, and the boy gasped. It wasn’t a dream. It was as real as the ground beneath his feet and the open sky above his head. He tried to run, obviously, but his feet were frozen to the ground with fear. The streets were empty; which was strange for this time of night. Usually his friends were out, skateboarding after neighborhood curfew, thinking they were so cool. That they were being rebellious. How foolish it all seemed to him now. Where WAS everyone?
The figure stepped closer. The boy let out a strangled scream that scratched and stretched his throat. Never had he been so frightened, so helpless. Even closer the hooded man came, a steady pace, neither slowing or quickening or showing any sign of urgency. He knew there was no point in running anymore, even though every bone in his body was screaming for him to go. This man seemed confident in his prey, his kill, not panicky or mental breakdown-y, just cool and confident.
The boy’s eyes widened as he imagined his fate. He didn’t want to die, he really didn’t? What about his mother? His dear, dear sister whom he loved so much? The dark man pulled off his hood and revealed his face.
"Two down, two to go," he said, his voice sounding both terrifying and melancholy. He watched this young boy’s mouth open and close, trying to say something that could not be formed into words. He froze, mouth hanging open, and the light in his eyes slowly dyed out, leaving only dim, glazed, ever staring orbs, un moving and unblinking for the rest of eternity.
But none of this mattered, he had to run. Run. Run. None of this was happening; it was a dream. Yea, that was it. His steps slowed; there was nothing to worry about. He turned to face his pursuer. He was only 14, he wasn’t going to die. Of course he wasn’t. It was a dream.
He often had strange dreams, how was this any different? And, in his dreams, he often had the same exact thoughts that were running through his mind earlier, that he had to run and couldn’t stop. But strangely, he usually didn’t realize his dream was a dream. Why this dream?
The dark figure that had been chasing him stepped into the light, and the boy gasped. It wasn’t a dream. It was as real as the ground beneath his feet and the open sky above his head. He tried to run, obviously, but his feet were frozen to the ground with fear. The streets were empty; which was strange for this time of night. Usually his friends were out, skateboarding after neighborhood curfew, thinking they were so cool. That they were being rebellious. How foolish it all seemed to him now. Where WAS everyone?
The figure stepped closer. The boy let out a strangled scream that scratched and stretched his throat. Never had he been so frightened, so helpless. Even closer the hooded man came, a steady pace, neither slowing or quickening or showing any sign of urgency. He knew there was no point in running anymore, even though every bone in his body was screaming for him to go. This man seemed confident in his prey, his kill, not panicky or mental breakdown-y, just cool and confident.
The boy’s eyes widened as he imagined his fate. He didn’t want to die, he really didn’t? What about his mother? His dear, dear sister whom he loved so much? The dark man pulled off his hood and revealed his face.
"Two down, two to go," he said, his voice sounding both terrifying and melancholy. He watched this young boy’s mouth open and close, trying to say something that could not be formed into words. He froze, mouth hanging open, and the light in his eyes slowly dyed out, leaving only dim, glazed, ever staring orbs, un moving and unblinking for the rest of eternity.
1 Comment
That was definitely inspirational! :) I loved it. Let me know when you add more! BRING ON THE FIRST CHAPTER. :)