Predator

Howling laughter echoed in the distance. Twigs snapped like bones beneath my trembling steps. Only terror inspired me to keep moving. They had my scent. The woods had turned pale in recent years, their verdant leaves turning grey and their rigid bark peeling away from their trunks, as if ripped away by monstrous claws. Scattered branches littered the earth, snagging at my tattered clothes as I staggered by. There was no undergrowth remaining. The ferns and bushes had shrivelled away into wiry black skeletons that disintegrated at the slightest touch. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to burrow down and pray that my hunters charged on by to harry some other pitiful soul. I kept on running.

Their hysterical shrieking grew closer. I knew they were faster than me; I had seen them run down the mayor on horseback as she tried to gallop away. It was not their speed that frightened me. Everything natural would become tired eventually, and the faster or stronger it was, the more quickly it would grow weary. But these creatures were not natural. They flooded into our town at dawn and continued their hunt to now, as the sun began to sink below the horizon. I had never been this far from home. Whilst I struggled for each breath, they screeched with laughter. That was what I feared. I kept on running.

The morning fog concealed their approach. Our little community had just awoken when countless silhouettes came bounding out from the mist, baring fangs, knives, and hunger. They were silent, until their victims began to scream. Wails of terror ignited a dreadful cacophany of manic shrieking. They laughed hysterically as if our horror was some hilarious joke. Since then, the cackling has not stopped. It provided a grisly melody to the massacre. Those who tried to fight were cut down with ease. The monsters were relentless and held no regard for their own wellbeing; tossing themselves onto spears just to slash at the wielder behind. Those who tried to hide were uncovered and dragged into the open to be brutally butchered. Most who tried to flee were run down and hacked to pieces. Us lucky few who escaped scattered in every direction. At first, others were beside me, but exhaustion eventually left them shackled to the ground and delivered them to our pursuers like a loyal servant. I kept on running.

I prayed it was my fear that made the shrieking sound closer. Frantically, I glanced over my shoulder as I staggered through the dying forest, desperately hoping to see nothing but trees. My wish was granted. For a moment, I considered stopping, hopelessly assuming that the laughter was just an echo in my panicked mind. I could not take that chance. To rest was to die. I kept on running.

Visions of the beasts flooded into my mind - memories of the slaughter that I could not shake. There were hundreds of them, each one shaped like a sickening hybrid of man and hound. Mangy fur, clogged with blood, covered their hunched bodies, and chunks of viscera draped from their muzzles like hanged traitors. Madness swelled behind their eyes. I did not need to remember their laughter, it was already here. I kept on running.

Salvation drew near. A river rushed up ahead. Surely, the flowing water would wash away my scent and cause the dog-men to abandon their hunt. The cackling sounded so close now. If they broke through the treeline and laid their frenzied gaze upon me, it would not matter if the river washed away the trail. I had to make it through the water now. Exhaustion had clouded my senses, leaving my vision blurry and balance uneven, but I steeled myself and charged forwards. Each step buckled under my weight and my arms sporadically flailed to keep me upright as I neared the banking. I kept on running.

I jumped. The short plunge into the currents below took an eternity as cold air swept across my aching body. Then, an icy chill shot through me as I plunged into the frothy waters. For the first time in hours, the laughter vanished. Bliss. Bubbles crowded my vision as my feet kicked beneath me. I clawed my way towards the dying sunlight above, pulling myself from beneath the water with a laboured gasp. The shrieking and howling resumed. Desperately, I awkwardly paddled through the currents, gripping onto rocks wherever possible, until I crawled out onto the stony banking on the other side. Uproarious laughter drew ever closer. Using the last of my already depleted energy, I clambered to my feet and wiped the water from my face. I kept on running.

I dared not glance back. The laughter sounded so close that I feared they had already seen me. To turn around would be to accept my own demise. Beyond the river, a steep hill presented itself, as if fate itself wanted to see me perish. Flames raged in my legs, entirely unfettered by the freezing water that drenched my clothes. With every step, they begged me to stop. I ignored them. I had to. After several more steps of screaming pain, my legs finally surrendered. Mud stained my hands as I fell to my hands and knees. Yet I did not stop. I gripped handfuls of grass and hauled myself forward. Everything ached. My grasp felt weak and my arms struggled to bear the weight of my drenched and weary body. Meekly, my empty stomach growled and my eyes struggled to remain open. I shivered in the cold. With one final effort, I clambered atop a small ridge and rolled over behind it.

I stop running, and hope the river has erased my scent.