Chapter 13. Treeline
Wednesday, December 25th, 1929
Pansy ran past the forest border, her breath trapped in her chest. Harry followed, his legs seeming to grow with every angry step he took. The treeline was now but a distant memory.
She tripped on a root and stumbled, her frenzied escape coming to a halt as she felt her burning skin melt into the snow. Heat seeped through the forest floor, binding her to the grass and the snow and the dirt and the dead leaves. She heaved and attempted to stand, but tremors of fear fluttered across her skin, deeply seeded within her, and she failed.
She heard heavy footsteps approaching and, soon, a hand was grabbing, tugging at her hair.
"I've got you now, bitch." His eyes no longer burned with the lust he had felt for her—there was only rage, grief and pain there. "You'll die just like my wife did, without dignity. Your body will decay here, amidst the trees, forever missing." He spat and kneeled above her, firmly holding her hips between his thighs, a revolver nestled in his hand.
"I think not." Her words were ragged, their edges softened by the pain that trickled through her.
She bit the handle of the dagger handle poking out of her bra, seizing it between her teeth.
"Wha—"
It was too late.
It was too late.
A flock of birds fled the forest, tearing themselves away from the mangled bodies below their branches.
This drabble collection won first place in the challenge, and I am immensely proud of it! Please let me know what you thought in a review.