![]() ![]() She is cold, skirt heavy and clinging, feet slipping and starting against the slimy layer of botanic decay saturated by the storm. “Clayton, no.”Ī gunshot, closer now, echo overtaken by thunder. “Clayton.” The name escapes in an exhale. Limbs sapped and unsteady, she regains her breath and pushes herself upward. Jane slumps forward from the mass of dissected vines. ![]() “Clayton…” The breath recedes from her chest and steals her voice once more. Flexing her fists upward toward the sky and straining against the ground, the remaining vines snap two, three at a time.Ī gunshot resounds. She heaves again, her lungs greedy and ribs forced outward, and her breath reaches her muscles. Lightning splits the canopy into a brilliant relief of flash and shadow.įat droplets of rain slap against Jane’s cheeks. The panic that had held her voice in the pit of her stomach comes out like wet cotton dragged from her throat. The breath that had filled her nearly to pain before lurches out in a stunted moan. ![]() They slip away over the back of her neck and across her abdomen and between her ankles with a slick, sluggish slime.Īnother snaps, pulling at her hair. She pants faster, gulping down air until her body strains to bursting.Īnother restraint snaps. Heaving, heaving against the darkness, a restraint snaps. She gasps deep, muscles heaving, inhaling so little she cannot afford even another squeak. Jane’s voice barely escapes her throat, a pathetic squeak. The dark is substance, is chill and dense. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |