I am Mademoiselle FANTASY and today I will be writing a miniature story, or one-shot. Today’s inspiration is the following song:
(Listen to the song while reading)
Pain. Her head hurts so bad. She tries to move her tired limps, but they’re stuck, tied by… ropes? What happened? Were is she? She tries to open her eyes. Nothing. It’s like her eyelids have been glued together. She can feel her throbbing head tilting downwards. She can’t faint again… she…
Are those wolves howling?
“Leave me alone!” The man in front of her is covered in dry, crusted blood. His eyes are gleaming in the moonlight. He is crazy.
The man is repulsive. He is wounded and tired. His clothes are torn and there are no shoes on his feet. She wants to run, but she can’t. Her heart is jumping in her chest and cold sweat is showering her hair.
“You think you can escape? You will never escape!” He is shouting at her. His voice is hoarse and saliva runs down his jaw. “Your worries are here to drown you. To tear you open and bleed you dry. They will destroy you. They are feeding on you.”
“No please!” She closes her eyes, only to open them seconds later. The man moves towards her. She backs away, but stumbles in branch and falls. Her calf is scratched and little blood is pouring out of it. The pain distracts her for a moment and the man jumps on her. He pins her down and holds her wrists. She tries to fight, but it’s no use. The man is stronger and her head hurts. It hurts so much!
“They will follow you everywhere! Every single person you’ve ever let down, has disappointed you, has put their hopes and dreams on your shoulders, broke you, fixed you, yelled at you, cried for you, lost because of you; they are all here! Can’t you hear them howl? Can’t you hear their unnatural screams, their demands and incomprehensible words. They are crying out for you!”
She can feel his hot breath in her cheeks and sweat drips from the man’s forehead. Or maybe it’s her own. She doesn’t know anymore. She can’t fight anymore. Everything is a blur. WHAT IS HAPPENING?
“Are you so blind that you can’t see the end of this all? The inevitable running and tumbling and arising?” He seems disgusted by her ignorance. Yet he is the one shouting insanities.
“Learn from your fierce pack. Let the terrifying wolves show you how they tear through you without their raw strength, bloody claws and piercing teeth.” His grip is no longer painful. He releases her.
“Have you never wondered who leads this pack? Have you never questioned where they came from? Or what brought them to you? If they’re truly wolves or men in disguise?” His eyes light upon hearing his own thoughts. He gets up, only to immediately stumble. He clungs on a tree. He smiles with his insanity and falls to his knees burying his hands in the dirty snow. He rubs them with it for a few moments to wash away the blood stains. He is shivering.
“Yes! This is what they are! How could I have been so naive and not see it from the start? Oh, yes!” He says more so to himself than to her. For the first time, peace overwhelms him and he looks at her. Tears run down his cheeks and wash away the blood and dirt. This time he smiles as if he’s found closure.
“Run away from them and you’ll see. You’ll see too.”
Someone is licking her palm and she opens her eyes. A small wolf looks at her with its yellow eyes before leaving. Around her 7 wolves watch her. Her limbs are now untied and her head doesn’t hurt anymore. She tries to move, but the wolves growl and bark.Her hands search for something to grab and a stone finds its way to her right palm. She throws it with all her might at one of the wolves and runs.
She runs hearing howls, barks, growls and screams. She runs while branches and bushes scrape her legs and arms. She runs until she falls down and rolls. Her head hits a log, her knee a stone. Everything is a blur once again.
She wakes up covered in dry, crusted blood. Her clothes are torn and there are no shoes on her feet. She washes her hands in the snow and looks back.
The wolves are men in disguise. She knows these men. They’re her loved ones.
What she hasn’t understood yet, is that when the man spoke of wolves and beasts, he meant worries and familiar faces. How they can burden her and tear her open and make her bleed until she is dry, because of their actions or words, but still she needs them.
Why, you ask? The answer is simple. They give her meaning; a reason to wake up and run. She constantly tries to run away from them, but they’re vital. They’re essential for her existence. They untie her from the ropes she made and lick her wounds to heal them.
She will understand one day, just like the man did. For now, though, she’ll keep running away from her supposedly fierce pack.
Good morning! Good evening! Good afternoon! Wherever you might be or whenever you might be reading this. How are you guys?! I genuinely wish you’re having a good day.
I hoped you guys liked the story. Tell me what you thought in the comments!
Hugs, love and good vibes,
P.S.: I am not French. The name was just one of those stupid ideas someone has, but likes them too much to let them go… 🙂
I DO own the story I wrote and the characters.
I DO NOT own the song “Wolves Without Teeth.” It belongs to the artist Of Monsters And Men and the video to the YouTube channel OfMonstersAndMenVEVO.
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