Book #3 [Untitled]

Fear coursed through the winter night. The light of the full moon reflected off of the snow, filtering through the pine needles.  Arnon stood underneath the canopy of branches, shifting from left to right. Nearly there. The young man shifted, placing his weight back onto his left leg.  Just a bit further.  He let out a quick, quiet breath. Rubbing his hands together, Arnon slowly crept forward and pushed his way out from beneath the tree.

A horrid discordant chime rang out from the recesses of the night. 

No, no, no! There’s no way.  Arnon backed up, pushing aside the branch beside him. I can’t stay here. He quickly turned and froze. One of the branches on the other side of the tree was lightly swaying. There’s no wind tonight. They’re here… He waited, watching for any sign of movement.

A fridged feeling wound its way over his neck and down his back. He shook and started backing away from the tree. His left ear twitched as warm moist air brushed against it. 

“You can’t run away from me.” 

The voice softly caressed his ear. It had been hardly more than an entrancing whisper, but it felt so close.

Arnon swung around throwing a wild right hook. It swung through empty air. He put his hands up ready for a fight, but there were only the tree branches alongside him. 

Harsh metallic ringing wandered through the trees towards him, like a wolf stalking its’ prey. He could feel the sound as it wrapped itself around different parts of the forest slowly moving closer.

Arnon looked to his left and right. He darted out from underneath the tree and into the night. Smashing through the thick snow, he ran through the clearing between the pines. A metallic clang of the chime rang out and he felt the clashing notes pass over him. They’re right behind me. 

“Aghhhh!” Arnon yelled as something latched onto his foot. He bent down, shoving snow aside. Something gray was wrapped around his right foot. The substance looked like clay and it was growing, slowly moving up to his ankle. He stomped his foot down, but the grey matter didn’t fall off. Bending down, Arnon tried to rip his shoe off to no avail. The grey clay was tightly wrapped around his ankle, sinching down as he tore at it with his fingers. I can’t stay out here.

Hobbling, Arnon pulled his right foot through the snow. Each breath became more and more visible in the cold night. Move, move, move! He bent down, panting. It felt like whatever was on his right foot was getting heavier. 

Crunch.

Something was right behind him! Arnon lunged forward, but his right foot was stuck to the ground. Desperately he tried pulling it up. Come on! Move! The discordant notes of the chime hit his ears. He looked up and tried to scream.