Inamorata Tales Ch. 00

Story Info
Prelude: The Running Girl.
819 words
4.26
7.8k
1

Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 12/19/2007
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If you want it, this is the first part of a story that's growing in my head. Might even be a 'proper' story, with a plot and everything! Started with the girl running and then worked back to why. Still working through the details of that in my head but the starts pretty much there. Not much to go on but you might like it.

*

The girl ran.

Though branches whipped her face, though thorns and nettles plucked and stung her flesh, she ran.

She did not stop. She could not stop. She dare not stop.

Behind her, distant but gaining, she heard the baying of the dogs, growls and howls echoing across the mist of the early morning, with their handlers no doubt spurring them on ever faster.

Her every breath burnt in her throat and her chest ached from the constant heaving of her lungs. Barefoot, bare legged and wearing only a plain, white dress of loose cloth, she ran on. Rivulets of blood trickled from a hundred nicks on her pale skin but she didn't feel them, cold and adrenaline sucking all sensation from her. Her world now was narrowed to one imperative, one overwhelming, over-riding need; get away.

The girl ran straight and true, with minor deviations as she ducked round trees, jumped through gaps, leapt over logs and rocks, not looking back only forward. If she deviated from her course she always returned to it., eyes searching out the few natural landmarks she had memorized in her time there and ticked them off. She knew exactly, precisely where she was going and her running was not panicked, not thrashing and wild. She ran like she had been trained to; tight, controlled with not a movement wasted. She was aware of the burning in her throat, chest and muscles. She could hear her breathing, hard and ragged and she could feel her head getting lighter and lighter. Still she ran.

If you do need to run, you will need to run hard. Head straight west to the gorge and don't stop. Don't even look back.

Ahead of her, finally, the trees began to thin and she could hear the muted rumble of the river. So close now but behind her the maddened sounds of the chasing pack seemed even closer. She thought that even through her gasping, through the pounding of her heart and the rush of air in her ears that she could hear the hounds crashing after her.

You cannot climb down because there will be no time to do so. They will catch you if you try. You have to jump, girl, and if you jump from the wrong place or do not jump out far enough, you will die. And it is better you die than you get caught and reveal your purpose.

'I know I will not say a word', and she said this as she ran, the words coming out in gasping breaths as she fought for more air to fuel herself, to keep her going. She began to feel cramp in her calves, then it passed, returned and tears rolled from her eyes as the first realization that she wouldn't make it came upon her. She felt herself slowing, but still she ran.

You will talk. Everyone breaks and everyone talks. Do not get caught.

'I won't, father,' again, speaking aloud and then she screamed, of rage and hate and sorrow and pain. She screamed inside too, at herself for failing, for being weak but the accusation felt hollow, unjust.

And then, there it was.

She saw the trunk then, ahead of her, a rotting pile of wood covered in moss and she cried out. She jumped it and crested a rise. The land dropped down and saw the gorge through the tree line. Grey stone and the still distant rumble of water.

Aim for the falls, girl. The only place deep enough for you is at the base where the water has done its work.

Behind her, she heard a wet thud, a scattering, scampering rustle and knew the dogs were over the log. Ahead of her the edge rushed up to meet her and she kicked hard.

Push off hard and keep running as long as you can. Right before you hit, legs together, feet down.

She saw the place.

She felt a tug on her dress and knew it belonged to a slavering mouth full of teeth. Then her foot hit the edge and she pushed hard, leaping forward, legs still pumping but only thin air as the ground fell away beneath her. A second later the world was full of cold spray and what colour was left in her failing senses was washed out in it.

She fell for what seemed like forever and then, right before she hit, she remembered; legs together, feet down.

And then the white world went black.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
Enticing

Tasty little snack hinting at more robust fare to come. Please don't make the episodes too short. Good, positive start.

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