Chapter 3: S1 Hidden: Free Falling
1005 Words
Sophia Mahoney
The wind whips around her body, blowing her hair out of her face. Somewhere close by, she swore she could hear the guy's heavy breathing, but he remains out of view.
Below her, a canopy of green vegetation spreads out as far as her eyes can see. From this view, the landscape looks serene, peaceful even.
Wait, she thinks, that's not grass. It's the top of fuckin' trees. "What the f**k?"
A sensation of free-falling settles in, and her heart pounds in her chest and thump in her ears.
The ground, now rushing up to meet her, no longer contains that peaceful ambiance. In fact, it's damn right terrifying.
No time to even curl into a ball. She hits the leafy top of a tree. Limbs greet her with several slaps to the face, then batter her body on the way down.
She hits the ground with a painful thud, knocking the wind from her lungs. Barely able to move, she pulls herself onto all four and forces air into her starving, deflated lungs.
A heavy thump lands nearby. Groaning, the man rolls over. "You'll pay for that."
On all four, she takes off crawling. Her arms shake, and she finds it challenging to coordinate the movement of her limbs. After a few awkward tries, she finds a steady rhythm, taking off toward the trail. At least, she thinks it's the right direction.
A hot iron grip snares her ankle, yanking her away from a bush.
She digs her nails into the damp, soft soil, bringing soil and decaying leaves with her.
Trees and other vegetation fade in and out of her view as he drags her. She twists from her stomach to her back to get a good look at the position of her captor.
He stops, grabs her arm, and then yanks her to a standing position.
Face-to-face, Sophia stares into his green eyes once more. Only something's different this time.
They're glowing, but how?
Her restrained hands fan out across his exposed chest. His skin, rough and cool to the touch, feels as hard as a stone surface. "What the hell are you?"
He grabs a fistful of her hair and yanks her head back. "Tell me where it is, Strega Bianca."
"What? I don't know what you're talking about."
"Ahh, this is interesting." A predatory grin washes across his face. "You really don't know what you are, do you?"
"Let go." Static electricity crackles in her ears, and the tips of her fingers tingle.
"You're the nascosto, aren't you?" He snakes a finger down her jawline. "Yes. You are the hidden one, the nascosto. He will be pleased."
"The hidden one." She shakes her head. "What the f**k are you talking about? Who'll be pleased?"
"My master, Meurjon."
Sophia's body heats from the inside out. The tips of her fingers pulse, keeping a steady beat. A surge of electricity courses through them, then a bright white glow encases her fingers, hands, and arms.
A pulse shoots through her fingers, sending him tumbling backward.
"What the f**k?" She shakes her glowing hands, trying to get rid of the illuminant light covering them.
The man - the creature - shoots eight feet up into the air. Dark shadows form around him.
Wings. He has wings.
He twists his body in mid-flight, spins around, and then dives, coming straight for her.
Electricity forms on the tips of Sophia's fingers once more. Bright sparks of light crackle, then surge forward in an arc. She shakes her hands again, but the phenomenon continues.
"No. No. No. This s**t isn't happening."
A stream of light forms in the middle of her right hand, then jets out and slams into the center of the creature's chest. The impact knocks her on her ass and flings the guy back several feet, and he crashes to the ground.
Standing, Sophia runs toward the trail. Leaves and twigs crunch with each step she takes. The pounding of her heart roars in her ears, and her chest heaves.
Fuck. What was that? She looks down at her hands, which now have a slight amber hue to them.
What the f**k is this s**t? What the hell just happened? The thoughts rattle around in her head. Oh God, let me make it to the trail.
Extracting the phone from her bicep holder, she scrolls through the menu and dials three numbers.
Please, let there be bars. Oh, God, please.
Ring.
Ring.
"911," a nasally female voice answers.
"Hello. Hello. Can you hear me?"
"Please, hold?" The phone clicks over to a recorded message.
"No. You don't understand. He's coming."
The recording grows louder, blaring in her ears. "All operators are assisting other callers."
"Oh. My. f*****g. God. No. Please, answer the damn phone." Sophia's fingers tremble, and she tightens her hold on the device.
"Please stay on the line. An operator will answer your call in the order received."
Leaves crunch behind her, announcing her pursuer's arrival.
God, he's catching up.
She glances over her shoulder, and a looming figure steps out of the shadows. Fear grips her tight, squeezing the air from her lungs. On the balls of her feet, she sprints through the thicket.
Tree branches slap and claw at her as if they're living, breathing beings. They snag her clothing and whip across her face with enough force to make her flesh sting. But she keeps running.
The terrain changes, and she slides down a small embankment. At the base of the slope, she slams into a solid object.
The phone slips through her fingers and tumbles to the ground.
Strong hands grab hold of her, stopping her fall.
Oh God, there's more than one.
Her breath catches in the back of her throat, strangling an unspoken scream. She's drawn into a tight embrace.
A small sob escapes her parted lips.
Twisting to the side, she struggles for release in seek of freedom. Her bound hands fan out across a muscular, warm chest.
"God, please, no," she whispers.
- Writer
