• He ran. His heart heaved in his chest, pounding in his ears. Tears spilled from his wide, crazed eyes. The trees of the dark wood stretched out their grasping hands and raked their talons through his hair, clothes, and skin. A fallen bough pulled his aching legs from beneath him, sending him headlong into a muddy stream. Forcing himself to stand, his lungs cried for gentler air.

    How could he stop?

    How could he let the beast behind him catch up?

    His heart jumped at the thought of the being chasing him.

    The wind burned his wounds as he willed himself onward, at last breaking through the trees. He caught himself on a rock before sailing over the edge of the cliff. His head peeked quickly out over the rim, and he let out a breathless curse. Had he not been running for his life, he might have thought that jumping would have been a more favorable outcome. The reality of the situation bade him move on.

    A shot rang out behind him that sounded like a thunderous roar.

    Or was it a thunderous roar that sounded like a shot?

    Whatever it was excited him, pushing him along the ravine’s edge. It turned him away from the trees. He followed it instead into a rock forest; his foot caught first thing on a stone and he was flung to the gravel floor. Fear pulled him to his feet and pushed him on. His body ached as he swerved around boulders and spires and rocks that looked unnaturally stacked. There were no branches to grab at him, but there were narrow passages that closed tighter and tighter on him, dragging their jagged, dirty teeth along his body. All the while, he could hear rocks scraping against each other as his pursuer raced awkwardly behind him, as if it were trying to make as much noise as possible so as to frighten him into making a mistake.

    His mind swam as he wiped blood and sweat from his face.

    Where was he even going?

    There was no safety just around the next corner; no salvation.

    He was going to die, and no one would ever know.

    His nightmare was going to catch him.

    A rock that jutted out in the dark caught the side of his face and threw him down. He screamed in pain. In anger. In frustration. In fear. There was no waking from this bad dream, no saying that everything would be all right in the end. People do not come back after running so far.

    No one survives living nightmares.

    The scraping was louder, closer, and he begged his feet to carry him farther. He saw a river ahead in the moonlight. When he came upon its bank, he heard the unique sound of a waterfall. His eyes followed the bend in the river to the edge, where it was leaping gracefully to its next destination: the black depths of the canyon.

    He stayed along this river, moving away from the fall. If he had any luck at all, now would be the time to have it. A shallow, smooth break in the water would allow him to cross onto the hidden trails of another forest that lay on the river’s opposite bank, where his demon would have a difficult time following or catching up.

    A shadow grew around his. It elongated, engulfing him more and more. He could hear its hard breathing over his own; its growling and jeering, snarling and laughing. When he did not think he could bear it a moment longer, he heard the beast heave itself into a mighty lunge. His heart thudded in his chest, and he made a running jump, as a rabbit might to escape a wolf, into the river.

    The undercurrent swept his feet downstream, carrying the rest of him along soon after. He fought for each breath; the few he did get threatened to drown him. Rocks beat into him, or he smacked against them. Hope had nearly left him when there was a lull in the water. With everything he could muster, he swam for the opposite bank, watching the trees get closer and closer. His hands sank into the mud and grass on the other side just as the current gripped him again. He demanded his arms pull him from the river, and then his legs carry him into the forest.

    It was so close; he could smell the woodsy smells that come with forests.

    His knees buckled and he fell to the soft, wet grass.

    He could almost touch it, but he was so tired.

    There loomed the ever-present shadow.