The night air rustles the leaves off the trees, and wraps around the wire frame of the breathless young girl, she runs through the great ancient tree trunks. As a child she use to trail her hands along the lumps and bumps of the bark, and wonder what they had bore witness to, in their time of standing. Now she sprints past them. The sinister floor slicing her bare feet, blades of grass take chunks from her ankles, rocks cut the skin, leaving fleshy pink wounds.
The forest floor seems harmless, compared to the shadows chasing her through the night, she feels their hands grasping at her skin, clawing at her hair and feeding off her soul, pulling her back into the depths of despair.
She loses her footing and lands with a thud that shakes the forest floor. She tumbles on a boulder, scarlet red liquid gushes out of the small hole at the top of her head and falls like raindrops into her eyes. The footsteps bare closer, she hurries to her feet and carries on, she cannot be caught if she is death will soon follow.