Page 28 of Rescued By the Beast
I feel the flesh and bones mending, the pain subsiding, and with one push, I leap onto a wall, desperate to gain distance.
It follows me, climbing the surface with terrifying ease. Its arms are long, and when its claws slide down my spine for the third time, tearing deeply into my skin, I know I cannot hold out much longer. I have consumed every last drop of my healing essence, and now my wounds remain open, healing at a painfully slow pace.
I jump another wall, landing on the street behind with an impact that almost knocks the wind out of me. But I force myself to keep going. I can't stop. I can't look back.
His scent is too close, suffocating, as if death were already brushing my neck with cold fingers.
The street lights fade into the distance, swallowed by the distance, and my mind fixates on the only chance I have: the forest. It looms ahead, a dark wall of tall trees that seem to whisper promises of shelter and danger at the same time. With one last desperate leap, I throw myself over the fence, my paws sinking into the damp earth. The smell of leaves and mud envelops me, momentarily drowning out the smell of my own blood.
But the feeling of safety is short-lived.
The sound of heavy, brutal footsteps echoes behind me, crushing branches and leaves like a terrifying warning.
My mind screams for me to keep going, but my body is in tatters. My breath is a trembling, faltering sigh, and every movement is a sacrifice. My body screams in agony as I run, leaving a trail of blood that insists on giving me away.
It is close.
I can feel his presence, monstrous and bloodthirsty, on my trail, like a relentless shadow devouring my last strength.
I am empty and weak, closer to the end than I have ever been.
All I am is torn flesh, cold bones, and a heart that struggles to keep beating.
Each step is a challenge to death itself, a desperate game in which the prize may be just one more breath, but I insist on bargaining with luck, even though I know it has already turned its back on me.
I keep running. I don't know how. I don't know where I get the strength.
I slide between the trees, rolling through the mud, trying to erase any trace of my scent.
The monster seems to be distancing itself, I think I've thrown it off the scent enough, but that doesn't give me peace.
I need to keep going. I need to survive.
When I feel my strength is at an end and that I will collapse right there, exposed and vulnerable, my eyes catch a glimpse of hope. Just ahead is a towering tree with sturdy, intertwined roots, forming a precarious refuge.
There is no time to hesitate.
My body, exhausted and torn by pain, almost gives way. I force the last drop of energy I have left and throw myself between the roots, curling up like a creature on the verge of death, seeking shelter, the last vestige of safety.
The cold earth moulds itself to my body, leaves stick to my skin. I am freezing, but it does not matter. Nothing else mattersbut surviving, taking one more breath and then another and another...
The pain finally disappears. Not because it has passed, but because I have been overcome by numbness. A deep cold consumes my bones, my soul. My heart beats weakly, as if hesitating to continue.
By the stars and Mother Moon, let me survive this night...
It is the last thought I have before everything goes black.
I don't know how long I lie there, suspended on the threshold between life and death.
Perhaps seconds, perhaps hours.
But a noise cuts through the silence, bringing me back to my senses.
Branches snap under firm footsteps. Heavy. Each step is a sentence, an omen of danger or, perhaps, a last breath of hope.
Fear is like a shock, forcing my previously weak heart to race. I try to move, but my body does not respond.
My eyelids open with difficulty.
