Page 35 of Traithorn

THE GRIM REAPER

Isolde

Something rumbles underneath me,and it’s impossible to tell what it is. I can’t see anything with the blindfold still on, and my hands are still tied behind my back.

Nervosity starts creeping into my pores, spilling inside me until it grows and turns into paranoia. The rumbling stops, and I’m pushed against something hard and solid, bumping my head. Straining my ears, I attempt to hear anything out of the usual around me, but I can’t make out anything.

It only heightens my unease.

I lay still, waiting for something to happen, while listening intently to a sound erupting from far away. Something closing with a loud thud. A car door, maybe.

Gravel crunching underneath shoes fills my eardrums as it comes all the closer, and my pulse quickens with the suspicion of what it might be.

A gust of cold air washes over my half-naked frame, chilling me to my very core when the trunk lid opens. My body is rigid, waiting, unable to move.

The ghost of a touch on my bare thigh causes me to flinch, panic taking root inside me.

“Such a beautiful sight,” a feminine voice whispers. Celine.

I hear her shifting closer to me, fingers trailing against my cheek, pushing my hair behind my ear. It’s not until then that I realize I’ve been crying. Tears soak my cheeks with the terror that takes over my insides, leaving me paralyzed.

“Shh, no need to cry. We’re just going to play a little game of chase with you,” Vernon muses.

Suddenly, I’m roughly forced out of what I assume is the trunk of a car. Coming to my feet, my body sways with the discomfort of not having stood up for quite some time. Nature’s raw scent, earthy leaves, wet soil, and bark all rush into my nose, sharp and jarring. Along with the icy sharpness.

Someone removes my blindfold, and yet it’s as if I still can’t see. I realize it’s too dark—the only thing illuminating the surroundings is the car’s headlights, casting eerie shadows behind us.

Vernon and Celine are two shadows haunting me, their smiles equally as twisted as they stare at me—tear-stained cheeks, ruffled hair, hands tied behind my back, half-naked, with only my legs free. Only my high-laced boots and an oversized T-shirt—not even mine—cover me, stealing the very body warmth from me.

I don’t remember anything after being led out of the castle.

Celine takes a step forward, her feminine perfume washing over me until I feel light-headed. She then pushes me away from her, into the other direction.

“Run along now, my little traitor.”

“You know the rules,” Vernon adds.

I don’t wait to see the grin I know is stretching across his face—I don’t dare. Instead, I bolt deep into the merciless forest. Gnarled branches reach for me, clawing at my bare skin as I run with no clear goal in sight. The damp snow clings to my feet, sucking me deeper with every step forward, as darkness devours the landscape.

If I trip now, I’m done for.

The forest swallows me whole as I hear a crack of a branch behind me, followed by the slow footsteps crunching against snow. Not even the nightly creatures are awake to save me.

They’re both toying with me.

With my pulse slamming against my ribcage, I fight to breathe properly as I push harder. Muscles burning in protest won’t stop me from escaping them, for good this time.

What will Casper think when I don’t come home? Will he be worried? Or will he be mad?

Every shadow in the forest shifts, twisting into something alien and alive, watching and waiting for me to fall.

I don’t even register the cold because of the adrenaline fueling me.

I’m so preoccupied with not falling to my death on a root or running into some icicles hanging from the branches that I don’t notice the huge obstacle covering the small path until it’s too late. I stumble, something sharp jabbing into my foot with the pain of needles splitting through me. I fall right to the forest floor as I’m unable to catch myself with my hands still tied. Coldness instantly invades my senses as snow and mud envelop me, panic glazing over me like rapid frost.

The footsteps behind me halt, and the silence drapes over the forest. I know they’re behind me, but I can’t see them. The only thing illuminating the path is the moon desperately trying to make itself visible through the treetops.

Ignoring the sharp pain in my ankle and the sting of snow-packed mud against my palms from the brunt of the fall, I attempt to stand as best as I can when my leg meets something soft. My eyebrows furrow as I try to make out what it is, but it’s hard with the moon and the moving treetops from the heavy wind. Making a final attempt to stand on trembling legs, something slippery meets my skin.

---