Fieuline's Short Story: The Delman

The chill of winter air had nudged her from her slumber. Gazing through the window upon the dreary horizon, the blur of gray told Hulga that rain was nearing. Nervously, she backed into the corner away from the window and curled up next to a pile of hay and settled in. Soon after repositioning herself, Hulga heard the consistent patter of rain on the roof of the barn. Her eyes watered as she wondered if her mother had been frantically searching for her.

My shoelaces whipped at the backs of my ankles, urging me forward. Rain-drenched, I ran. I had felt the venom of desperation before, but never of this caliber -this was its purest form. It tasted of whiskey. I 'd never been fond of whiskey. The branches of the fir trees scraped against my cheeks and I forced myself to feel each individual needle. I deserved as much. His voice laughed “Come find me” amongst the trees, echoing throughout the forest. It was a wet winter, as wet as one would think a winter could be with Washington 's climate. I slipped on the moss coated roots and sliced my right cheek on a jagged rock. By midnight, it would all be over.

She ran as fast as her feet could take her. The moonlight weaved in and out of the branches illuminating spots she could reach. She did not dare to turn back to look over her shoulder because she knew it is how the killer always got the victim. Her white slip teared when it got snagged against a branch. Her fingers gripped the silk material and held it together by the tattered seams. She quickly began her escape once more and found a clearing from the icy branches.

Lying on the ground in an unfamiliar place was all she knew besides the pain. Her body spasmed, rising from the ground, then crashing back down to cracked dry earth beneath the leaves and branches of an overgrown jungle; her head struck the tangled root of a bloodroot tree, a fresh wound opened at the base of her head and fed the surrounding forest that was hungry for blood. For food. For life.

The day was gloomier than I thought it would be. The air was humid as if it had just rained for days and you could feel the thickness in it. Past the trees of the nearby woods, thick, and gray fog lined the ground,

It was a bleak summer’s evening with the shadows deepening on a path that ambled down between bitternut hickory trees and then cut sideways across a field of tiny green grapevines. There was a wind beginning, small gusts that rattled the fence posts and set the dandelions dancing in unison on the broad expanse of lawn. Rain spotted our shirts and glistened on our nylon backpacks.

Her long brown hair tied back in tight bun and brown dirty dress and matching wool jumper that is two sizes too big. She heads down towards the running creek the bank starting to flatten. Dead trees creating hurdles and the thrones pricing her numb feet. The slug becomes deeper as she get closer to the water. Animals in the night scratching and yelling, light hitting her left shoulder… ‘RUN’. The only way out is the creek and he is getting closer the water reaching her lower back sending shivers up her spine. Wading through the water she sees it. The bag and the world has gone dark again silent and serine she scrambles up the other side of the bank pulling the bag with her. A big oak fallen about 15 Meters away she knows by the unsettling silence he’s not far away. Pulling the bag on her damp back she crawls to the hollow tree and lays down behind it. She holds her breath for what feels like fifteen minutes not moving a single tired muscle in her body. After about half an hour more of twilight and damp forest floor she realises he’s given up. Not for good but defiantly for

“It is something I do best,” Ignacia replied as she ran off to find someone or something else to fool around with. As she ran, she toyed with nature, uprooting plants and squishing

And, I started growing horns and a tail… and contrary to popular belief, growing horns and a tail… REALLY HURTS!!!

The essence of rain became more prominent as the trees began to clash and crash against each other like drumsticks in the hands of a giant. All of a sudden, a turbulent roar drowned out all the boisterous cries of animals, followed closely by a dazzling fork of lightening. Soon enough, water was cascading from the heavens in a torrent of rain, teaming up with the howl of wind that weaved through the clattering oaks. Monkeys darted in and out of the treetops, trying to find the best place to take shelter. The raindrops fell heavily, hitting the trees with such force that many leaves had also began to flake

The mighty wind clashed against the tall trees and hoisted the delicate leaves up into the heavens above. Only a minuscule of light from above was granted access to the vast lands covered by the grand trees below. Birds flocked from tree to tree scavenging for anything edible that they could clench their beaks on. Their screams echoed bounced from tree to tree and into the night sky as water slowly leaked from the trees like a faulty tap and made a thud when it slapped the surface. Decaying plants filled the air with a smell that could bring a bear to his knees. A thick mist covered the landscape and could scare away any animal that would dare draw near.

They stepped off of the bus, The branches of the tall trees rattled like bones in the wind. And now it was raining-a nasty, cold, stinging rain mixed with the wet leaves torn from the groaning trees.

It was 5:00 P.M September 8th, 2015 and I was in the corner of my living room when all of the sudden…

The dark clouds churned and twisted. Water droplets and needle-like ice pellets bombarded down on me from above. The downpour made it impossible to see even a mere five feet in front of your face. I started to lose my footing on the slick, slippery grass.

The bare branches were blanketed with a soft covering of pristine white snow, a scene out of a winter wonderland. However, beneath the trees and within the log cabin that they resided, it was something far from perfect. The blond vampire stared at the bed, or more accurately, the one who laid upon the bed. The once rich black hair that had stuck out in every direction now laid upon his forehead in streaks of grey and white. The once vibrant eyes that had shone with determination and resolve had now been dulled to a fading green behind those eyelids. It reminded Mika of the peeling paint of a wall, as time had slowly chipped away from the bold color.