Categories > Original > Fantasy > The Dark Past of Elves
Never did Fred think that he could do what he did. That was amazing. He thought as he ran across Oak Street to get to the intersection of Coral and Flow. And the annoying part was I shouldn’t have been able to do it. It is not possible. It should not be possible. But it did and now I have to move on. Fred had learnt early on that the best way to deal with traumatic experiences was to lock them up in a little box in his mind and leave them to be dealt with later. Fred knew that this was not healthy but this was the way to stop the pain. To –
STOP!!!!
His mind screamed at him. He stopped breathing hard. I mustn’t think about it. He berated himself. I must not think about it. I must not think about it. Became a mantra he chanted to himself as he ran up St. Vine Street. Only two blocks to go. He thought. As he ran, he heard small scuffling. Not loud sound but small. Like the kind made by a fat man when he wanted to be silent. Fred sped up and set of feet sped up to. Please. Fred pleaded to the gods. Please let it not be another weird thing. Please…Please…Please. He kept praying as he rounded the corner of St. Vines and came up onto Roland Way. Fred could see his house in sight. All he wanted was the day to end.
He wanted to crawl into bed and forget about this past week. Please. Let this all be some kind of messed up dream. He pleaded. Please. There were now another two sounds to accompany the old one. Scuffling. Like feet. And they were gaining on his – rapidly. Fred sped up, pushing his body to its limits and surprisingly, his body was responding. He still ached and he knew that he most likely would not be able to walk in the morning but his body kept going. Amazingly, his body was responding to his commands. Just a little farther. He urged his body, just a little farther, just a little- But he never finished his line of thought because there was a bang and a flash of light.
When it cleared a man with a faux hawk appeared in front of him. He had the bottom half of a wolf but the top half of a man - Tryblith.
A man flipped over Fred and when he was over Tryblith, pivoted in mid-air thrashing his sword down. Tryblith blocked the blow and the man landed some miles away. He had a blonde Mohawk and was wearing jeans and a long black trench coat. A single black wing protruded from the right half of his back – Saeth. Just like in my dream. Fred thought.
From the side a woman with blue hair and purple eyes rolled out sword drawn – Briddor. “He’s ours.” She snarled at the wolf-man.
He raised a hand and beckoned for them. “Come and get him.” He said drawing his sword. This, Fred though, was very, very, very bad.
STOP!!!!
His mind screamed at him. He stopped breathing hard. I mustn’t think about it. He berated himself. I must not think about it. I must not think about it. Became a mantra he chanted to himself as he ran up St. Vine Street. Only two blocks to go. He thought. As he ran, he heard small scuffling. Not loud sound but small. Like the kind made by a fat man when he wanted to be silent. Fred sped up and set of feet sped up to. Please. Fred pleaded to the gods. Please let it not be another weird thing. Please…Please…Please. He kept praying as he rounded the corner of St. Vines and came up onto Roland Way. Fred could see his house in sight. All he wanted was the day to end.
He wanted to crawl into bed and forget about this past week. Please. Let this all be some kind of messed up dream. He pleaded. Please. There were now another two sounds to accompany the old one. Scuffling. Like feet. And they were gaining on his – rapidly. Fred sped up, pushing his body to its limits and surprisingly, his body was responding. He still ached and he knew that he most likely would not be able to walk in the morning but his body kept going. Amazingly, his body was responding to his commands. Just a little farther. He urged his body, just a little farther, just a little- But he never finished his line of thought because there was a bang and a flash of light.
When it cleared a man with a faux hawk appeared in front of him. He had the bottom half of a wolf but the top half of a man - Tryblith.
A man flipped over Fred and when he was over Tryblith, pivoted in mid-air thrashing his sword down. Tryblith blocked the blow and the man landed some miles away. He had a blonde Mohawk and was wearing jeans and a long black trench coat. A single black wing protruded from the right half of his back – Saeth. Just like in my dream. Fred thought.
From the side a woman with blue hair and purple eyes rolled out sword drawn – Briddor. “He’s ours.” She snarled at the wolf-man.
He raised a hand and beckoned for them. “Come and get him.” He said drawing his sword. This, Fred though, was very, very, very bad.
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