He was running, running from them. Running from the men, the men who needed him, who needed his soul. His broken soul. The night was dark, a bitter wind winding through the trees he was running through. His body a silhouette. The moon reflecting off his vibrant red hair, leaving the presence of fire behind his blurred body. Like a firework on the 5th of November. Bright in the sky but slowly falling, falling from the sky. He was slowing down, there was no way he could keep up this speed. A thought flicked through his mind 'if I weave through the trees enough I could trick them. I could lose them for a bit then head backwards, for home.' So quickly, without a noise, he swerved right around a thick tree trunk stickling clumsily out of the ground. Nimbly weaving in and out of the trees he darted backwards. He couldn't hear the sound of the men behind him anymore, no heavy footprints. No heavy breathing, and no occasional low grumbles of them communicating. He carried on, carried on running from The Eaters.
Why did they always want to catch him? He had nothing compared to every other soul. He was empty, he couldn't feel anything. He couldn't feel love. He didn't know how to, he never had the chance. Not when he was a child, he never had parents. Not that he can remember. And now, he was in Whitehold, with no-one to communicate to. No body to write to because The Eaters could trace his writing, they knew what it was like, they could see where the letter was being sent from. He was empty. Why did they want him?
He heard footsteps again, catching up to him. Tailing right behind him, not more than a few metres behind him. 'Get away from me' he yelled. 'You don't have any reason to want me' he shouted. Panting for breath he knew he couldn't carry on for much longer. 'What's the difference if I let go anyway' he thought 'nobody will miss me.' And that's when he fell.
That's when he awoke.
He was lying in his bed in Whitehold. The white sheets once dry now weeping in sweat. He was panting heavily, lying there. Not daring to move. Who knows where The Eaters could be. They could be in his room, in the hallway, in someone else's room. But he knew they were here, somewhere. He could feel their presence. He needed to get out of here, being stuck in a room no bigger than 5x5 square meters wasn't doing him any good. Yes, that's what he will do.
He will escape.