to Sue Vincent’s #writephoto Prompt.
I have one golden rule when writing pieces for my blog. No more than 200 words. But today I’m breaking it and posting 376 of the little blighters. I’ll tell myself off later!
.
He was scared, so very scared. Never before had he known such fear. He was running, faster and faster. He had to run. Run, run. run.
He hurtled between the trees, tripping, stumbling, bouncing from one trunk to another. His shoulder throbbed with pain. One arm hung limp and useless.
A glance behind, then suddenly the ground before him fell away. With a thump and a splash, he landed in water. For a moment, he let the icy stream wash over his aching limbs; for a moment the pain eased. Holding his breath for a second, he listened. He heard no one but that didn’t mean he was alone. Any wistful thoughts washed away. He had to carry on.
Scrambling to his feet, he climbed the bank. Foul water trickled from his hair into his eyes. They were stinging. Streaming. Almost blinded, he clambered through the foliage, brushing wet leaves from his face,
A sudden chill. He stopped. A bitter breeze swirled around him. He shivered. He heard a hollow echoing laugh. A blood-curdling laugh. Firstly before him, then behind. Utter panic set in. Where to go, where to run. Don’t think about it. Just run. Run.
He rushed through long grass and dragged himself through a thorny hedge. A warm trickle of blood ran down his scratched and torn face.
A clammy hand grabbed him. An unseen slimy hand, which clasped his neck and strangled his cry for help. But he struggled free and clambered on all fours up a slippery slope. Without warning an avalanche of stones and rocks tumbled downward, pummelling his aching body.
He knew it was up.
He could go no further.
Then that laugh again. That mocking, brutal, terrifying laugh. His mind was a muddle of swirling images, echoing sounds. A grey mist filled every part of his trembling body.
Suddenly he was swept from his feet. Something unseen caught him, enveloped him, carried him skyward. He stared down at the moor and the forest below. A feeling of euphoria came over him. A warm glow. Contentment. He heard a soft voice, as smooth as silk.
“You are safe now,” it said. “No need to run anymore”.
His eyes closed and he slept the sleep of an angel.
It was over, for another night at least.
.
Keith's Ramblings 
A real sense of terror before the end, Keith…
LikeLike
I was running with him. Excellent Keith.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I hope you came out of unscatherd Di!
LikeLike
I did Keith. I was young and fit in my mind!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow. What a terrifying way to live.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nightmarish! Cheers Mimi.
LikeLike
A really powerful account. (Good thing I have chronically low blood pressure!) I’m so glad you had an angel near to rescue him from that nightmare!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good thing indeed – I’d hate to be responsible for any ticker problems!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am glad you didn’t spare the words. Some stories need to be told in their entirety, and this was one of them.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s most kind of you Violet, thank you.
LikeLike
A chilling tale….wonderfully written keith….thanks for pointing me this way….inky.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure and thanks so much inky!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pleasures all mine.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Phew!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The response I was hoping for! Cheers.
LikeLike
Lol a pleasure 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person