These are the most dominate memories of Damian La'Mort. The rest is all IC.Feel free to post comments Enjoy!
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Run.
Run, the only word that came to my mind as I sprinted through the forest, tripping over the laces of my sneakers. My path was made visible every time a pale patch of moonlight broke through the canopy of leaves above, illuminating my shadow as I darted amongst the shadows. I couldn’t turn around; they were coming. I could feel their chill breath on my neck. A ragged shriek dismissed the silence, ringing in the distance. I can’t let them take her; not my sister. I don’t have anybody else; just her and dad. They’re my only family.
Soon the forest cleared, the trees becoming less dense before my watering eyes, the ground evening out and suddenly there were less roots to trip over. I looked to the sky, storm clouds forming, angry and dark they loomed above, obscuring the stars. The occasional thunderclap rumbled in the darkness, lightning flashing from afar. The woods were eerily silent; the pounding of my feet muffled by the layer of dead leaves that stretched along as far as I could see. There was a darkness behind me; but I didn’t dare turn around. I could hear my sister’s screams as I drew nearer to their source, my heart beating clamorously; threatening to burst from my chest.
As the dark forest gave way to the copper color of dying wheat, my feet trampling over the field of crops, I emerged from beneath the emerald canopy. Thrust into a field of grain, the spindles of the crop lashed against my cheek; the sensation stung in the unnatural cold. I could hear sighing whispers coming from behind me, the soft sounds of the creature that kept close pursuit. I couldn’t keep running for much longer, the dash from home through forest and into this god-forsaken field sapped my strength faster than usual. Perhaps that was the work of whatever thing was following me.
The form of an abandoned windmill was silhouetted by the light of the crescent moon, it seemed to be the source of the ever-quieting cries of Isabella; my sister. The grim building loomed closer with each of my frantic strides, thunder booming in the distance as the storm gathered. The decrepit building seemed to sag beneath it’s own weight; the entire left section seemed to sag as if ready to collapse. As I came within feet of the lopsided doorway, the chill breeze ruffled my hair; making a whining sound as it caressed the dying building. Pausing only to throw open the door and bolt it behind me, I entered the interior of the building.
I gave the room one, sweeping glance and ran past the rotting furniture; semi-covered by hole infested, white sheets. The wind ruffled the aforementioned sheets, fluttering as their tattered white tendrils brushed against the dust covered floor. I ran up the stairs as my sister’s moans lessened in their intensity. Moments later, there was a loud crack and I heard the door collide with the opposing wall accompanied by a earsplitting crash. As I surmounted the stairs, I heard something follow me as I ascended towards the second floor of the building; it’s garments whispering along the steps. There was only one room on the second floor, in which was my sister and a robed creature; dark in garb and demeanor.
It held her in its scabby hands, the only visible bit of skin other than the toothless mouth that pressed against hers as she jerked spasmodically while held suspended in the air. I saw frost accumulate along her hair, her skin now milk-white; her movements became less frequent and she fell to the floor with a thud as the creature dropped her; turning to face me. The tears that dripped down my cheeks froze in the chill room and I turned, ready to dart down the stairs; I was face to face with another one of the creatures, it’s filthy hands reaching at towards me. I could feel myself grow weaker, as if some tangible presence was being drained from me as I stood, gaping at the robed figure. I began to shake, tremble as a strange depression overtook me; something no one can discuss on sublunary terms; it was as if I could never feel the warmth of the sun again. And then I screamed.
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I was nine years old at the time, and I’ll never forget what I saw. I’ve spent many sleepless nights just thinking back to that one night; the night my life fell to pieces. My father told me the police found me in the attic with my sister, barely alive; my eyes the color of pale blue snow. I do remember, a silver horse standing over me, glowing as the moonlight shone off its nearly wispy form.