Uh…yeah. Wrote this into a notebook earlier today and proceeded to type it up here; it more or less evolved from the summary, which was an actualthought running through my head at one point. Shuddup. I was pissed. -_-"/xD
[Runaway]
You are angry.
Bright colours leap across your vision as you bound through the forest, blinded by your rage. Red is the main hue; its vivid depths lap hungrily at your soul like burning tongues of flame, scorching upon you nothing but incredible pain and the passionately intense instinct to run far, far away. Get out, your conscious screams at you, get yourself out of this miserable hellhole and never return.
It's no use. You can't even run; the monster is inside of you, a heartless demon with a mirthless grin to match. It caresses you, seductive and cooing, bribing you to pause and stay, to really think about your cowardly actions. But it's all a trap, a trick of the mind; hesitate for even a fraction of a heartbeat and down, down, down you fall, plunging into the vast pits of black fury.
You are fuming.
Steam would be erupting from your body right now if that were possible; instead, your muscles ripple reflexively under your skin, testing their strength against your will. Shudders racing through your limbs, you spring forth into the awaiting arms of treachery, wishing with everything you possess that it would all just disappear.
You are broken.
A cold wind catches your back, and the smooth rhythm of your pounding pawsteps is interrupted; faltering, you steal a peek over one shoulder, eyes open wide. For the first time, a true uncertainty touches you, pinching at your nerves and causing you to halt. The steady pace of your heart is gone now, only to be replaced a stuttering thump that forces the blood to flow through your veins in an unusual way.
Slowly, you turn your head and strain your ears, suddenly tense and alert. You swear you'd heard something just now, head a faint whisper riding that earlier breeze while sweeping across your fur. But...what was it? What kind of something, exactly?
There it is again.
Panicking now, you whip around, casting half-crazed glances all about. The words had been spoken so clearly that there was no trace of doubt, not even the slightest possibility of an overworked imagination merely stressed to no end. The voice in the wind is calling. Calling for you.
It keeps up a constant chant, murmuring your name softy at first and then growing both louder and quicker with each flashing heartbeat; before long, it's impossible to make out the distinct phrases, as the words have melted into one long, continuous ribbon of sound. The shrill, barely discernable cry seems to echo thunderously off the surrounding trees. You shake your head deftly, unbelieving, but the gesture is no use; the voice is closing in on you, pressing into your already-contracted lungs so you can't even breathe….
You are suffocating.
It's just too much; you have to get away from here. The ground is flying under your paws as you take off, desperate and determined to get the hell away from the soothing tones that urge you back. Thorns cut into your pads and sharp branches snap across your face, but it doesn't matter. You couldn't care less. What's that compared to the pain of staying?
You are running, running, running away.
Heh. Boring and overused, much? Whatever. Don't ask who the cat is, because I don't know. -grin-
--Annie;;/
Sunday December 28, 2008