Author's Note: Song = Don't Pay the Ferryman.
Here we go: my second story! oFTo This happens after Mystic Mindset book 1 (in between 1 and 2). I know the prologue may be a bit confuzzling, but try this: imagine it in first person (through their eyes) instead of a third person POV. That should make it a bit easier…probably. 0.0
The crunch of her claws against the leaf litter. The blur of forest around her. The bawls of the dog pack behind her. The sound - and the smell, yee-uck! Talk about hyuuman stink, Zim! - of policeman and investigators pursuing her right alongside the pack.
Yup, her normal day, lately - running for her life from FBI agents, paranormal enthusiasts, detectives, policemen, and scientists, just to name a few groups who were hades-bent on proving she was real. After a few years, she'd gotten used to it and had even made a few plans of escape just for these kinds of situations. Unfortunately, she was dead-tired, so her mind wasn't as active at planning as it normally would have been. And she couldn't stop to rest at the moment, either, or she'd be royally screwed.
She ran very swiftly, Lucario-style, through the forest, her hooded cape flapping behind her like she was a poor lost soul with shrouds of energy left in its wake, the ribbons on the end of it reflecting the fading light like water eerily. Her whiskers brushed against… well, brush, and she could hear the creek gurgling nearby – somewhere off to her right.
It was late at night on the open road,
Speeding like a man on the run
A lifetime spent preparing for the journey
She needed a plan. She couldn't just run straight to her burrows: they'd follow her the whole way there, and then she'd be screwed, again. Perhaps…yes, it just might work! But if it didn't, it'd make her tracks even easier to follow…
Her eyes widened from astonishment as she ran. *Of course, the river! Why didn't I think of that before?*
Her striped ears perked up – there was a great deal of bawling and growling coming at her diagonally from her left. They were trying to cut her off!
He's closer now and the search is on
Reading from a map in the mind
*Now or never, I guess.*
She felt something metallic and speedy whiz by her bushy tail from the left. She winced and her head swam momentarily, her stride momentarily breaking from a full-fledged sprint to a single bound before she sped off ahead again in a black-and-white blur. No time to look at it now; she had to get home. She could only hope it wasn't tranquilizer.
She was panting heavily, sweat weighing down her fur: though it helped her be more streamlined for running, it was very uncomfortable and unhygienic.
Her ears shot forward. She heard a lapse in the rhythm of the creek, of its gurgling: it seemed to slow down, spread out, relax, even if only just a little bit.
Yes, there's the ragged hill
And there's the boat on the river
*Yes, there it is! Now, if I could just - * she winced as she gained speed drastically again; the wince was from the stinging sensation in the tip of her tail, throbbing away, blurring her vision from time to time. That caused a problem: she'd need her tail to turn. It was her rudder, just like it was for cheetahs, used for turning and balance. Unsure if it was movable, this'll be hard without it. She hoped to God that the damage wasn't too severe, if any, and that she wouldn't pass out before she got home.
She leaned forward more to speed up. The groups hunting her had fallen behind, but she'd dare not relax. She suddenly turned to her left as a wider portion of creek yawned open about 50 feet in front of her, to the right. It was twice as wide as the rest of the stream. She made a U-turn left-to-right as it came up quickly, and then launched herself over the wider part of the stream.
And when the rain came down,
He heard a wild dog howl
She landed in a catlike posture on the edge of the water; crouched, on one knee, one arm down in front of her for support. The water was above her ankles.
There were voices in the night – "Don't do it!"
Voices out of sight – "Don't do it!
She looked ahead of herself, dug her claws into the silt of the creek. She shot forward at the same speed as before like a black-and-white bullet, running with the current, through the middle of the creek. If this worked like she hoped, - IF - the random collection of scents that condensed in the creek (she could smell them, anyway. She didn't know if they could) would mask her own, therefore keeping the dogs off her tail; literally and figuratively. If not, her scent might be easier to follow in her footprints, or even make her footprints more pronounced in the mud.
Too many men have failed before!
She glanced up at the sunset's reflection in the water. It raced along ahead of her, trying to keep ahead of her at all times, all costs. Her ears caught the sound of hounds, sirens, gunshots, shouting, running, panting, and even more that her tired brain didn't want to process. Her nose was assaulted with the pungent smell of leaf litter decaying, of damp fur. Her mouth was dry from the day's run-for-your-life marathon - a bit longer than the chases usually were…
Whatever you do
Don't pay the ferryman
"Ok, ok, where am I?" she muttered to herself, trying to stay calm even though today's pursuit was longer than most – not a good sign; her pursuers were growing bolder, surer…
Greeeaattt. Just what she needed.
She glanced around, slowing down slightly, to see if she recognized anything in the area. Eventually, she took a risk and stopped, then gasped shortly in recognition; there was a thick old tree off to the creek's left shore that had an X scratched into it; three claw marks one way, three another.
Don't even fix a price
She narrowed her eyes. *Best to stick to the trees now; they shouldn't be able to follow me there,* she thought, tilting her head back to look at the canopy high above her. She reached behind her head, flipped up her gray hood with light-blue-and-yellow-triangles bordering the rim, then crouched down and shot onto a branch about ten feet off the ground in one swift, smooth spring like a cat jumping to a perch.
Don't pay the ferryman
Until he gets you to the other side!"
She landed on the branch in another catlike crouch, panting heavily still, desperate for air. It was a wonder she didn't overheat and keel over in mid-stride! But, apparently, all those years of being hunted, the years of wilderness life, and the bullying before that seemed to have paid off. She closed her eyes momentarily, pressing her palm into the wood, trying to listen to the trees; the whispers they passed along, the sounds from almost anywhere that resonated from root system to root system. The Language of the Forest, some called it; understood by few, but heard by most, though they might not even realize it.
In the rolling mist, then he gets on board,
Now there'll be no turning back.
Beware that hooded old man at the rudder.
She could faintly hear the dog pack splashing into the water half a kilometer behind her. She could even almost see in her mind's eye the hordes of people following the guiding noses of the hunting dogs, thanks to the trees. She opened her eyes with a sigh. "Thank you, trees," she whispered down to the branch, standing up. She turned and started springing through the trees like a Suicune ( a Pokémon) would run over water or a Naruto ninja would travel though a forest, except with many more jumps; about one every few seconds, if not every second.
And then the lightning flashed and the thunder roared,
And people calling out his name
All the while, she kept glancing down, following the sparingly located trees with X's swiped into their bark that made a path back to her 'territory', as she considered it. Her deep blue eyes glowed from a mix of the night creeping in, the shade of her hood, and her reflective animalistic retinas. She made a swift leap over a small clearing, and could have sworn she'd seen a green dog frolicking with a floating purplish moose.
*The Heck? This is a national park! How'd they get in here?* she thought momentarily before her thoughts flipped straight back to getting home safely.
And dancing bones that jabbered and a–moaned on the water.
Eventually, she came to a part of the woods that had less very thick branches to bound over. She had to switch back to dashing over the earth, Lucario-style again. This went on for about another hour before she stopped at a small pond fed by the creek to listen to the trees…and heard nothing.
Thank God.
And then the ferryman said
"There is trouble ahead,
So you must pay me now" – "Don't do it!"
"You must pay me now" – "Don't do it!"
She slumped onto an overhanging log over the water, panting like a wolf that had just run a thousand miles; which was partially true, in a sense. She cupped some water in her black furred, clawed, weasel-like hands, feeling waaay better after gulping down probably a gallon of water. Just when she thought the chase had been given up, as it usually was by the time she reached the pond, she heard the bawl of hounds; and not just one pack, two packs.
Both packs.
And still that voice came from beyond,
At first she gasped, wide-eyed. How could they have caught up? She scowled and let a growl escape from her throat momentarily before taking off in the opposite direction at about the speed of an Olympic runner. Her weariness slowed her down even more now. She left behind deep footprints in the mud.
"Whatever you do,
She could clearly hear their shouting now; just behind her. She passed a tree with a Christian-styled cross instead of an X scratched into its bark. She looked back at it, then smirked and sped up drastically. Her eyes twinkled with hope.
*I can make it, I can make it! It's not far now…*
Don't pay the ferryman
She heard the thump thump thump of a helicopter above her head as she weaved in between the gnarled tree trunks like Dash from the movie The Incredibles.
Don't even fix a price!
Don't pay the ferryman
Soon enough, she was able to pull very far ahead of her pursuers again. She stopped when she saw an old rotting stump about as wide as she was and as tall as her mid-thigh up ahead. She jogged up to its front, and there in the wood and soil, half embedded, was a small cavity. She cleaned out the excess dirt and leaf litter from its opening, and then swung herself in feet-first.
Until he gets you to the other side!"
She dropped about ten feet to the floor of an extensive labyrinth, landing catlike again. The walls were squared, brown with earth, and all had stone supports and frames along the sides made of what appeared to be onyx, and there were torches hung every few feet along the wall; it looked like an old mine. The midnight black onyx framing glittered black in the torchlight like the beady eyes of some Hollywood monster.
She hefted up a large stone as big as her head from the floor beside her and placed it in the opening under the stump, then slumped down against the wall until she was in a sitting position, legs extended. Exhausted, panting, tired, and dehydrated, she listened to the stampede of believers and canines clatter overhead, knocking some soil loose from the ceiling as she struggled to catch her breath. She hoped none of the dogs would catch her scent…
Don't pay…..
The ferryman!
Author's Note – yes, I know the song doesn't seem to go with the chapter, but I put it in because:
I thought it was a cool pursuit-scene-background song.
A possible interpretation of the lyrics goes well with the main character of this story's background. You'll see…maybe not just in this story, but you'll see. It'll prolly also be mentioned in any story she's in. And no, the meaning doesn't revolve around the analogies of the River Styx and Charon completely. It's more of a moral/theme meaning on choices etc. or something when you think about it!
Thanks for Reading! Disclaimer: I do not own the song…If I did, I'd be a millionaire and have this stuff published instead of sharing it with you people. XD Btw I didn't add a few lyrics at the end, it was all just refrain I didn't really need to add, so…
P.S. I may not update as often on this one.