A beast emerges from the storm; A woman escapes into the storm
01-18-2017, 02:50 AM
(This post was last modified: 01-18-2017, 02:51 AM by Vancho1.)
The hunter stops for breath, and a gust of wind blows the hood off their head. For a brief moment, a woman's face is revealed; young but with a determined expression on her face, she pulls the hood back on and continues walking. She goes for what seems like a long time, and indeed it is hard to measure the moments when all around is ice and snow, but she knows, deep down, that she is close. The footprints she follows are deeper, closer together. Her prey is getting tired. The hunter goes over a crest, and spots a figure collapsed in the snow ahead of her.
I've got her, the woman thought.
In a burst of speed, she crosses the last few meters separating the two. She reaches into her coat and pulls out a pistol; the gun is inky black against the snow.
"Sarah Jackson! You're under arrest for escaping from prison! Put your hands up, and don't move!"
The figure stirs, rises. She is a thin woman, shivering in her prison jumpsuit, bright orange clashing with gentle white. Her hair is wet and unkempt, like the rest of her. She stares at the officer - green eyes flashing in the semidarkness of the storm.
"Imogen, fool girl, if only you could see how they've tricked you! Why do you call me by that name? Do you really not recognize me, Mav, Queen of the Fae? Oh, I wish my powers were not so weak here, else I would take you with me!"
The ground shakes; the snow rumbles. From the blizzard a white-furred beast emerges, tall and broad of shoulder, which moves impossibly quickly towards the escapee. It kneels before her, and she climbs onto its back. The officer is frozen in shock and fear. Her hands tremble. The beast starts running off, and the woman on its back turns.
"Remember, Imogen, remember who you are! I shall return for you, once my powers have recovered, and I shall help you as best I can!"
Imogen looks at the gun in her hands. She has a choice - the beast is almost out of sight. But what shall she do?
I've got her, the woman thought.
In a burst of speed, she crosses the last few meters separating the two. She reaches into her coat and pulls out a pistol; the gun is inky black against the snow.
"Sarah Jackson! You're under arrest for escaping from prison! Put your hands up, and don't move!"
The figure stirs, rises. She is a thin woman, shivering in her prison jumpsuit, bright orange clashing with gentle white. Her hair is wet and unkempt, like the rest of her. She stares at the officer - green eyes flashing in the semidarkness of the storm.
"Imogen, fool girl, if only you could see how they've tricked you! Why do you call me by that name? Do you really not recognize me, Mav, Queen of the Fae? Oh, I wish my powers were not so weak here, else I would take you with me!"
The ground shakes; the snow rumbles. From the blizzard a white-furred beast emerges, tall and broad of shoulder, which moves impossibly quickly towards the escapee. It kneels before her, and she climbs onto its back. The officer is frozen in shock and fear. Her hands tremble. The beast starts running off, and the woman on its back turns.
"Remember, Imogen, remember who you are! I shall return for you, once my powers have recovered, and I shall help you as best I can!"
Imogen looks at the gun in her hands. She has a choice - the beast is almost out of sight. But what shall she do?