Running Scared


  Even the deafening pump of her heart in her head can’t drown out the scrabble of the beasts paws racing to catch her. The light has been sucked out of the world and she is running blind, up the dew-dampened grassy verge and back onto the paved road she knows only by memory.

  The beast is on her heels, relentless in its pursuit and terrifying in its proximity. Lilly-May can feel her muscles giving out, betraying her fear-fuelled determination. Over her own erratic breaths she can hear it gnashing behind her, can feel it’s hot, wet breath on the back of her legs.

  Her sight is useless and in the frantic moments when she does look over her shoulder to make out whatever is after her not even a single feature can be seen, forcing her instead to imagine it; its slathering jaws replete with chiselled fangs, its skin leathery and hairy at once, a pounding, muscular silhouette bearing down on her ever threatening. It helps, a little at least, to push her further.

  She tears around the corner into Hampton Heath, her feet slipping out beneath her on the wet grass. She catches herself, palms in the mud, and bursts forward once more, unsure of how much ground the monstrosity gained with her mistake. It lets out another cry, a horrific bleat of exasperation that rips through Lilly-May’s frame. Her house is up ahead, a single square of light shining in the darkness.

  She is going to make it.


~ by Joseph Blame on July 18, 2010.

One Response to “Running Scared”

  1. or is she! joe you seem to enjoy writing chase/running scenes i’ve realised.

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