I’ve neglected my post (and my posts) for rather too long this time. I still owe you all the final instalments from directing “Joseph” and I’ve missed plenty of weeks of fun flash fiction for no other reason than I was out doing something else! I’m sure those times will eventually end up in one post or another. For now though, here is another speedy little flash fiction effort for the Friday Fictioneers based on the delightful little photo prompt. I might even develop this one into something more.
The Gingerbread Man
Her heart was pounding, her breath urgent. Branches ripped through the bare flesh of her arms and legs as she ran desperately along the forest track. Thin rivers of blood trickled into new rivulets, mingling with the sickly sweetness of sweat. The physical pain was nothing but a dull ache compared to the ugly wound tearing through her soul. Images flashed through her mind like an endless slide show repeating the horror of the last hours over and over again. The soundtrack to her cinematic memories alone would leave her shivering in the dark even wrapped in the comfort of her own bed covers. Out here, right now, it was real, it was raw and it was worse than anything she could ever even begin to imagine.
She never actually thought they would go through with it. She thought they’d been messing around and so she’d just come along for the ride, for the bottle of beer. The start of the evening’s “entertainment” seemed like some kind of sick joke now that she knew what they’d planned all along. The thought of it made her gag, vomit-rising in her throat, but she forced it back, she had to be strong. She had to get away, to survive.
She heard their shouts and saw reflections of flickering torch beams as they trailed her through the forest on mass. They were too quick and too many. She would have to leave the path, try a diversion, anything just to get away.
“Oh, please God!”, she cried desperately, her frightened tears threatening to spill once more.
She might never find her way out if she pushed too far off the beaten track. Who knew what creatures lay within the darkness of the trees? Her primeval instincts kicked in. The decision was fast, adrenaline fuelled. Whatever creatures she might find, it would be better than remaining exposed to the creatures that now hunted her. With their crazed, angry shouts ringing in her ears she sped off to the left of the main path into the thicker brambles beyond. She pleaded once more, “Oh God, please save me!” as she stumbled on.
[Photo taken from: http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/2012/06/13/photo-prompt-for-100-word-flash-fridayfictioneers-34/ & find more stories based on this photo prompt at: http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/flash-fiction/pathways/ ]