Modus

Quiet and still she remains, a sudden sweet aroma filling her conscious on every level, from head to toe, heart to abdomen. So pleasing it is that she thinks it perhaps her psyche’s own manifestation of hope, dangerous and urgent, upon her senses. Deeply, she inhales it, clings to it, moves towards it… touches it.

Startled by the hit of physical contact, she jolts awake, to find him standing less than half a foot from her, leaning against the tree with his arm outstretched by her head. He traps her.

This time, her voice eludes her less effectively, and a sharp, shrieking peal escapes from her throat. Her raw fear is audible even to her own ears. Her heart is desperate within her chest.

Death smiles.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s