The trees were swaying in the wind and their ghostly screeches echoed through the forest. In the darkness they looked like tall thin creatures with long arms, ready to grab anything passing by underneath them. They were old trees, high. I could not see how far into the night sky they were reaching. Not a single leaf grew on them β only thin twigs and branches, that were swaying slowly in the wind.
The moon had hidden itself behind the clouds, only a very slight silver shine on the otherwise pitch-black sky let me guess where it was; and thick fog was creeping over the landscape, making it almost impossible to see anything clearly.
I felt the ground's wetness under my feet. There seemed to be not a single alive plant, just mud and decomposing dead leaves and small dead twigs that the wind had managed to rip off the trees. Water on the ground had accumulated to little puddles which every now and then were covered by a thin layer of ice β the temperature must have been around freezing point.
The whole forest smelled dead. Despite the darkness I knew there was nothing green around, all plants where either rotting or drying up. A faint smell of snow mixed into this, but I couldn't see any. The air was heavy and humid and the fog made breathing more difficult, its moistness creeping into my nose and lungs and into my eyes which started hurting after a while.
I was standing in the middle of the forest. I did not know how I had got there, or why I was there, alone, dressed with nothing but a small night gown that did not protect me against the winter air. I felt like I had just woken up β not unlike those first few moments when you do not know who or where you are. But some time passed and my confusion remained.
The wind started blowing strongly and messing up my hair, pushing it over my face. I had to use my hands to put it back behind my ears. It felt heavy and I had difficulties running my fingers through it, I feared it would be hard to brush it back into its normal smoothness again.
The wind kept playing games with me and tried to lift up my night gown, running up and down my back like cold fingers tickling me. Its cold chills were giving me goose-bumps. I folded up my arms and pressed them close to my body, in hope of warming up myself but it didn't seem to be useful.
Indecisively I looked around, wondering which direction to turn. No matter where I looked, I could see nothing but those dead trees swaying in the wind, their shapes becoming more and more unclear in the fog and darkness the further away they were. Not a trace of human existence, no lights, no pathway.
Somewhere behind I heard a cracking sound in the forest, like a small twig breaking under the foot of a big animal or a human and suddenly I knew I was there because I was running away from somebody or something. Quickly I turned into the direction opposite of the one I had heard the sound coming from and walked away. After just a few steps I got faster, and started running β something inside me told me I had to flee.
Little twigs and pieces of ice on the ground cut into my bare feet. The first few times this happened I considered stopping to take a look at the damage they might have caused. But soon I learned to ignore it.
Every few seconds I tripped over roots that seemed to be growing just to slow down my pace. It was as if the trees were sticking out their feet to make me fall. I could hardly see anything. There was no path. I was running right through the forest. Branches of the trees seemed to be everywhere. They appeared suddenly in front of me when I was too close to change the direction and slapped into my face or my body. Or they got caught in my nightgown, as if trying to undress me. I kept running. My breath was going quicker. There was a stinging pain in my chest. Again and again I found trees standing right in front of me and could alter the direction slightly only in the very last moment, to avoid running into them.
Ever more clearly I heard the footsteps behind me. Fast and not very loud. Like someone who is running without having to put great effort into it. Like someone who is used to running in the forest, who could run quietly enough to not be heard if he wanted to. But they did not care because they were sure they will be faster anyway. And there was more than one person, two or three at least. Getting closer.
My legs grew tired of running. Forcing myself to run on caused a slight feeling of sickness in my stomach. In my ears I heard the rushing sound of my blood, which my heart was pumping quicker and quicker through my body. I felt dizzy. I wasn't cold anymore. Rather, fear and the physical effort were causing sweat to run down my face from my forehead, mixing with the little drops of water the fog had left there. Only the air remained cold. It stabbed into my lungs like a knife each time I took a breath.
My feet made smacking noises whenever they hit the mud. Splashed in the puddles, almost as loud as my heard did beat. The even rhythm of my paces helped me to keep running.
"Concentrate on that rhythm!" I told myself in my mind, I did not have the energy to speak the words out loud. "Only on the rhythm of your feet! And don't forget to breathe."
My sides ached.
Parts of me just wanted to stop. Wanted to give in, in to whatever they were trying to catch me for. I just wanted to stop running. But another part of me was filled with so much fear that it made me gather all my strength and run even faster.
And yet, somewhere in the back of my head, I could not stop myself from wishing they might be faster, they might catch up with me soon.
What was this? Why was I wishing this?
"If they'll catch up with me soon I can then stop running," I told myself.
But fear was not the only thing I felt. Deep down inside awoke a feeling of excitement that I couldn't admit to. An arousal, a forbidden curiosity to what exactly they might do, why they were prosecuting me.
*
Suddenly I thought I heard heavy breathing nearby, mixed with quiet growls. The slight cracks of footsteps on the forest ground seemed to be right behind me, and in my fear I was sure I felt hot breath on my neck.