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Rated: E · Short Story · Dark · #2226171
I’m working on short scenes with a lot of power. This specific scene is based off fear.
Running. I’m running. I can’t breathe. I can’t stop. I pass through an alley and trip over something but I don’t have time to stop. I can hear their voices growing louder behind me. I can’t breathe but somehow my heart is pounding faster and faster each second. I hear the footsteps growing closer to me and I lose focus. I round the corner to a dead end. I’ve never been afraid of anything other than them, the people who want to kill me, the people who would savor every bit of my pain and revel in my screams. I’m terrified. I dart behind a stack of wooden pallets, paying to any and every god that they won’t find me. My heart feels like it’s going to explode. I’m slowly catching my breath. Suddenly, the back of my neck is hot and goosebumps break out over my skin. I don’t dare turn to see what I know is there. “Hello baby brother, we’ve been looking for you.” His hand clamps over my mouth before I can scream.

I wake up in a cold sweat, the memories of last week still fresh on my skin. My every sense is overwhelmed my fear. Fear of them. The people who would torture me. The only thing one ever feared. My brothers.
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