I haven't been working on any of WIPs. I just figured I need a break from them for a couple of days, and I started writing a short story. It was inspired by the song Heavy In Your Arms by Florence + The Machine and I really like it.
It's only a first draft so....
In the last rays of sunlight, she could see a boy standing underneath a tree, something was watching him, it's bright bright eyes shone in the coming darkness, and Marie wanted to scream, she wanted to tell the boy to run, but before she could open her lips, the creature that had been lurking in the shadows, stepped into the light, revealing every sharp fang that glittered in his mouth.
Marie clutched the cross that hung from her neck, and cried silently out to a god, she wasn't sure existed in a land where creatures came in the night, stealing children from their mothers, leaving bloody pawprints in their wake.
The boy, with his dark hair, his ashen skin, his slits for eyes, opened his mouth, to speak, but nothing came out. This creature, this wolf sat back, and howled at the approaching moon, and then it's golden eyes rest on the boy, who was slowly inching towards the animal.
"Stop!" Marie screamed, her voice sounding new to her ears, like she had stolen it from someone braver, someone stronger than her. "Stop!"
But the boy didn't stop. He just turned his head every-so-slightly and gave her a look that she will never forget, a look that was as gold as the one of the wolve's. His lips formed around words that she couldn't hear, and before she could ask him what he was saying, the boy was snatched away, into the darkness, and that's when she heard it.
The growling, the snarling, the closing of death all around her. They were hungry, so hungry. Their jaws snapped, their fangs reached out towards her, thirsting for a taste of her blood, wanting to feel her beating heart, stop beating, as her flesh passed through their lips.
Still clutching her cross, she prayed to God, hoping that he existed in this strange land, and then her life ended.
Or so she had thought.
The Sandman was standing before her when she pulled out of her memory. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, knowing that a man like him didn't have feelings, or even a heart to feel.
"I would like to ask one thing of you before I die," Marie breathed.
"What?" he asked, and this time his voice wasn't rough or sickly sweet, it was just one syllable, one lonely sound that trembled in her ears.
"Let me die having a good dream." Tears started to fall down her cheeks once more. Heavy. So heavy. "Don't let the wolves take me."