Thursday, August 1, 2013

The Prodigal Blogger Returns (AKA, Hannah's Back)

Long time, no see, me mateys! 'tis I, the bold and blue, slightly crazed and true Hannah. How be thou?

It's been a long, long, long, long, long time since I last posted. A grand total of... what, 65 days? Well, I am taking a short break from my hermitage, since I was flipping through one of my old notebooks recently and found a presentable snippet from a story I began sometime ago.
This is part one, since it was so long. I do not really know anything of the background of the story. It was inspired by a nerve-wracking dream I had, and I didn't much bother to flesh out the whole tale, just started writing (well, I spent a good twenty minutes picking out character names, but anyway).

~|~
ezraezra.tumblr.com

Sofie’s heart was pounding so hard she would later wonder how only a few layers of skin, bones and muscle could keep it in place.
At the moment, all she could think was, Run!

Sofie didn’t know what on earth was going on. Just that two men were chasing her, she had no idea where she was, and somewhere along the way she had lost Tryne. Where her sister was now, she didn’t know, but for the moment, it seemed that one of the men chasing after her had disappeared. Only the big one was left.
She was grateful for her dark clothing that blended into the woods in the semi-twilight. Unfortunately, the other man was also wearing some sort of camouflage, and she only knew where he was half the time. For a big man, he was pretty quiet.

Sofie’s boots skidded as she burst out of the woods. There was a small country road separating her from the next patch of forest. She was faced with the split-second decision of following the road or diving into the woods.
Cover, her brain said. She jumped into motion and crossed the dusty road, jumping over an overturned tree to get deep into the woods. She stopped, hunkered down and watched to see if the big man would turn up.
She was not disappointed. Hardly ten seconds later, before her heart had a chance to slow down to a less painful pace, a hulking figure skidded out of the woods. His shoes kicked up a cloud of dust as he stopped. He took a brief glance up and down the road, then barreled straight across the road toward her hiding place.
Sofie’s brain threw up a half-dozen curse words to fit the predicament, none of which she wasted breath on. She jumped up, on the run again.
There was no way she could outrun this man. The stitch in her side was hampering her breathing. Trickery was the only way to escape, but she was completely unfamiliar with this neck of the woods and the half-mile of trees that had proceeded it.
Dodging around a cluster of oaks and plowing through a thorn patch, Sofie ignored the pain from the odd branches slapping her in the face. Or the inch-long thorns tearing bloody gashes into her legs.

Suddenly she ran into something elastic, slamming into it full-force, It stopped her momentum easily, flinging her onto her backside.
Sofie shook her head, dazed, and looked up to see a net, like a fishing net, stretching up above her head. It was nearly invisible in the dark.
She scrambled to her feet. Had the two men set it earlier to trap her? It looked old, and through the mist, in the dark, it stretched as far as she could see in both directions.
Sofie heard branches snapping behind her, and without pausing to glance back, began to dig under the net. Her formerly well-manicured nails filled with dirt, but she barely noticed. Her fingers pushed under the net and she was grabbing the woven, pushing herself underneath.
She was out.
Or in, she realized, looking around. There was an old building nearby and several large barrels stacked beside it. Sofie squashed herself behind the barrels for temporary cover.
The net had seemed to be a fence of some sort - to keep something in, or out. She pressed herself against the rough wall of the building. This hiding place wouldn’t last long.
Casting a look around, she saw another net-fence not ten yards away. She dashed across the yard and started to dig, but got an unpleasant surprise as a beam of light hit her from behind, casting her shadow several feet in front of her.
A moment later, there was the familiar crank and click sound of a crossbow being loaded.

The past couple days of being chased had taught Sofie a few things. One was that you couldn’t look back. It was safer to always assume that the hunters were right behind you. Looking back wasted valuable escape time, and if you happened to see what you were up against, it usually scared the chutzpah out of you.
So instead of facing whatever it was behind her, Sofie decided to do something unexpected. Probably ineffective, but it might buy her a few more hours of life.
Already crouching, Sofie tensed her leg muscles and jumped straight up. She grabbed the net and started to climb. If she couldn’t go under, she’d go over. It’s harder to hit a moving target, after all.
Sofie’s hand tangled in the net, and she could hear shouting down below. But she just yanked her hands free, one at a time.
I’m almost at the top, she thought, preparing to swing a leg over the net and drop to the ground.
Her head snagged on something overhead, and she looked up.
In the moonlight, she could see a second net - stretching overhead like a roof. Or a lid on a jar.
No. No, no, I’m trapped! 
Heart beating wildly, Sofie twined her left fingers in the net and grabbed her dagger, slicing at the netting.
Just a hole that’s big enough! Give me time, she pleaded.
Something whistled past her ear, and not a second later, fire seemed to spread though her left hand. The one that she need to hang on with. Sofie almost fell, but the netting caught around her wrist and she dangled for a moment.
Her left hand was all pain, and through a haze she saw a crossbow bolt sticking in it. All the way through. The netting couldn’t support her any more. The fibers slipped over her wrist, snapped the wooden bolt out of her hand, and let her fall to the ground.

~|~

What think you? I am wondering if it would be worth the trouble to go any deeper. Feedback is fantastaboulistic. Or well-appreciated, at least. I have a second part to put up later, once I've finished typing it down and doing a tiny bit of editing.
Au revoir!



Sosrin God ignt eht ceallian,
(To God be the Glory)
Hannah

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