Here’s this week’s writing prompt for you. My response is below. Enjoy!
My breath robbed from my chest, I hunch over wondering if the pools of gray were the last thing I’d remember from this life. They cut through bone and through sinew until finally connecting with my heart. Why dear Rogue would you do this to me now?
His sweet smile void of any innocence shines back at me. He knows exactly what he’s doing. His dual-wielding pair of gray eyes flash once more like enchanted daggers. Staring too long back at them has rendered me useless. Instinct tells me to nock an arrow, to pierce him through his heart as penance for putting me under his spell. So why are my arms heavy as steel?
His gloved hand brushes back a chuck of my hair that has escaped from my braid. A cold shiver prickles my skin on this warm day. My stomach churns as my head sways, turning my vision into loops of blurred images. My knees buckle, threatening to collide with the forest floor. His presence alone has sapped me.
I curse myself for not sticking to the path as I should have. This adventurous soul of mine decided to explore supposed shortcuts. Hunters are expected to know the land better than others. It is our territory, our playing field. My bold steps have led me only to an inevitable demise.
“Why?” I force myself to ask him.
Rogue’s lips remain closed. Instead of answering me, he surveys my quiver full of the arrows that should be penetrating his core. Turning his attention to the left, it seems I have nothing of use to him. Would it be wrong to ask for my heart back then?
“If you’re going to kill me, please get on with it,” I mumble.
Head hung low, I gaze at the worn tips of my leather boots. How many steps have these feet of mine ventured? Will he take these from my lifeless body to sell at the market? What price will they hold if my blood splatters upon them? What else of mine will he claim as loot? These must be the nonsensical questions one asks themselves when death is certain. I close my eyes, forcing myself to summon the best memory I can from this life. All I see is his steel-gray stare.
My eyes crack open to steal one last look at him. With a hand raised, I accept the woods as my burial ground. Teeth clenched tight, I only hope the pain will be swift.
Instead his soft fingers touch my forehead.
I lift my head to confirm I’m not already dead. The faintest trace of a smile lifts the corner of his lips. His finger moves like the tip of a brush, painting what I assume to be a cross against my forehead. Withdrawing his hand, he pierced me once again with those dagger eyes of his.
The fur of my vest tickles my neck as a rush of wind sweeps through the forest. Pine and peat moss permeate the space between Rogue and I. Saliva pools in my mouth.
My lips part to thank him, but the words stick to the roof of my mouth. If this hunter is to become the hunted, I will be his prey forever. He takes a step and leans into my side.
“Until we meet again,” he whispers.
Whipping around, I draw my axe, ready to defend myself. My jaw lowers when only trees stare back at me. He is gone just as quick as he came.
Sheathing my axe, I look around the forest for any trace of him. Birds chirp as sunrise creeps over the horizon. I hook my thumbs around the straps of my pack and resume my journey. I may travel to the ends of every forest, see the rarest of creatures and tallest trees, but none of these wonders will compare to his dagger eyes.