45. Don't let go
53. On the Run
Everyone was talking witchcraft in the village. The Widow Ashe had been missing for almost a week now and though hunting parties were sent out many times to search for her nothing was ever found. The minister of your small village preached long, arduous sermons about the sins of the fathers and demons of hell coming in the rapture to collect the souls of the dammed. Of course your parents were convinced it was all because of your idle nature and lashed out at you so frequently that for a time you were afraid to even sleep for fear of being idle.
Then the children of the town began to complain that a tall man with eyes red as the Devil’s watched them from outside their windows as they lay to sleep. Though many tried to remedy this with blessings and heavy curtains, it did nothing to deter their nighttime visitor.
“Why must you sin so often?” your father would bell
"Ghouls exist along side these things or...v-vampires?"
"...Haha, yeah right!" Why didn't you listen to your friend. You should have believed her. If you did, you wouldn't be staring Death right in the eye at this very moment.
"Welcome to Hell, my pretty little flower." Oh, welcome to Hell, indeed.
(An hour earlier)
You hummed a gentle and merry tune as you grabbed your belongings near your friends coat rack, a smile forming onto your face as you thought of the warm bath waiting for you at home. A hand gently placed itself onto your shoulder and you jumped in surprise. You turned around and instantly found your best friend Stacie giving you a look; a look that clearly said you were insane.
"You aren't seriously thinking of going out there, are you?" You merely blinked at her question.
"Yeah, I have to go home eventually, Stacie."
"I know, but it's almost midnight! You could get hurt or worse!" You rolled your eyes and rem
You nudged the slumbering man in the ribs with your elbow, and frowned when you received no response. Nothing in all the world would wake him now. Your father had the nasty habits of sleeping soundly though the night and going to bed early, he had little regard for your insomnia. A promise made more than thirty years ago was enough to keep you awake until all hours of the morning. You had to try and wake him. The sun would rise any time now and you didn't want to miss seeing the first rays of light warm the earth, a sight he had been promising to show you for many months now. How long had it been since you had been able to see the morning light? You had lost count of the days long ago.
"Papa." You said a little louder, and shook his body slightly.
Nothing. His grip tightened around your emaciated body and he burrowed his face deeper into your rather messy hair. He might have murmured something of an admonishment, commanding you to go back to sleep. Yet presently you did not c