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 Post subject: Chicken Scratches
PostPosted: Tue May 24, 2011 12:15 pm 
Smelt Sire
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I had a thought and I wanted to get it down. This took about 8 minutes. Unedited. Enjoy. :9

He ran.

Breath whistled through his stretched windpipe as he hurtled through the woodland at a terrifying pace. Thorns tore at his clothing, and more than once he tripped on a protruding root and fell to the ground with a heavy thud, but he continued doggedly onward, his eyes wide like a hunted animal.

The freezing wind whipped at his face, causing a horrible numbness to overcome his cold-sweating features. He was exhausted, but he continued running. He was running for his life.

He came to a steep decline in the ground, and slid down as fast as he could, not caring to soil his striped uniform. Mud splashed his face and his hands sank in it as the freezing rain poured down through the treetops. His feet finally hit the bottom of the slope and, without a thought continued running as fast as he could.

They were on his tail. He could hear the shouts and the howling of the dogs, intermingled with his heavy breathing and the huge raindrops slapping the leaves. Suddenly, his head smacked a low-lying tree limb, and he fell to the ground, sliding in the mud and rolling, his head pounding. Before he had so much as blacked out, he was on his feet again, slipping and sliding through the muck and mud, but still racing on.

The heavy woodland gave way to lighter, thinner trees intermingled with pines, but he didn't care. He was focused on one thing and one thing alone: escape. He tripped and fell again, catching himself on his left hand which collided with a sharp rock. Pain shrieked through his arm, and he let out a cry of anguish, but got back up in less than a moment. Blood dribbled from his mouth, along with drool and mud, but he continued on.

The rain turned to ice, and the freezing wind bit at his limbs through his thin clothing. His ripped uniform didn't protect him from the elements, much less his unseen foe and pursuer. He could still hear them in the trees, hunting him down. This was his own nightmare. They were hunting him down. Hunting him down without mercy. Hunting him down... all nightmare long.

He couldn't stand it any longer. His lungs screamed for him to stop, to rest, but his wildly spinning brain told him to continue on. Sobs escaped his lips and burning tears ran down his face, but he kept running. His lungs burned. His heart pounded. His head ached. His limbs froze. But he kept running. He couldn't see where he was going...

Suddenly, the very ground itself gave way underneath him, and he plummeted downward for what felt like an eternity, until his numb body thudded against a gravel shore. He got up, and blindly began to run, only to find that he was now knee-deep in freezing water mingled with ice. Suddenly, a blast of icy water knocked him off his feet and carried him downstream, into deeper water and heavier rapids. His head thudded against a rock, and he struggled to maintain consciousness. Seconds passed that felt like minutes, and he was on the shore again, the dogs racing down the shore to meet him, howling their challenge to his weakened body. He yelled loudly and beat his chest, then ran on down the shore away from his pursuers, more than once jarring his ankle on a protruding rock and hitting the gravel yet again, but getting up and continuing to run on.

Soon, the gravel gave way to sand, and sand to mud again, and the sounds of the river faded into the distance, and he was in the woodland again. But this was a different woodland. It was dark, and it stank. However he continued on, doggedly pushing his body to limits beyond those of normal men. He was a hunted animal, completely helpless. His eyes wide and his mouth open, he ran onward. Thorns and branches lashed at his face, ripping into his skin and clothing. But he continued on, the smell of death, rank in his nostrils, the biting cold seeping into his very bones. He ran onward until he came to another drop-off, but he could not stop himself in time. He slipped and slid in the stinking mud, then plummeted off the edge and landed brutally in a thorn bush. Hardly feeling the pain shooting through his body, he extricated himself within seconds, the thorns tearing his already lacerated flesh.

He raced on.

He could still hear them behind him.

They were hunting him down without mercy.

Hunting him down...... all..... nightmare..... long........

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 Post subject: Re: Chicken Scratches
PostPosted: Tue May 24, 2011 10:17 pm 
Mould Mason
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Will you continue it I like it!?

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 Post subject: Re: Chicken Scratches
PostPosted: Wed May 25, 2011 9:51 am 
Smelt Sire
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I might. If you're good. :9

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 Post subject: Re: Chicken Scratches
PostPosted: Wed May 25, 2011 10:41 am 
Mould Mason
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I was born bad, Santa gives me a whole dump-truck load of coal every Christmas.

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 Post subject: Re: Chicken Scratches
PostPosted: Wed May 25, 2011 10:44 am 
Hammer Ace
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Daken the Bladesmith wrote:
I was born bad, Santa gives me a whole dump-truck load of coal every Christmas.

Wow, you must be rich.

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 Post subject: Re: Chicken Scratches
PostPosted: Wed May 25, 2011 11:03 am 
Chisel Hand
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Interesting story...


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 Post subject: Re: Chicken Scratches
PostPosted: Wed May 25, 2011 11:15 am 
Mould Mason
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Why yes I am rich, the coal is top quality.

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 Post subject: Re: Chicken Scratches
PostPosted: Wed May 25, 2011 2:18 pm 
Hammer Ace
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Location: Slaying Wyverns somewhere...
Now I want coal. Nice and creepy story Oreo!

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 Post subject: Re: Chicken Scratches
PostPosted: Wed May 25, 2011 6:23 pm 
Mould Mason
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Wow, scary! I am interested to see how the title ties in with the story.

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 Post subject: Re: Chicken Scratches
PostPosted: Wed May 25, 2011 6:31 pm 
Mould Mason
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Yeah I was wonderin' about that title not fitting in the story.

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