I've shared this story before, a long time ago and I have new followers now, plus I'm working on the story to edit it. If you've read the story and have no interest in reading it again - with or without the improvements and commentary - please feel free to move on and ignore it.

If you've not read the story or you feel you'd like to re-read it and are perhaps curious about the comments and adjustments I'm making, please, grab a cuppa or a glass of wine, sit down, and enjoy the journey.

Read the first part here

The cover image for Deadlier Beginnings as seen on Amazon.com Link

Continued...

Her initial sprint had weakened her and she no longer had the benefit of adrenalin that she had before, after the first shock. Her near-exhausted legs were as heavy as lead, pumping her feet over the uneven and slippery ground. The brambles, thorns and branches were catching her face, legs, hands, hair and dress. Her wrap had long since gone. Her lungs protested audibly as the bitterly cold air was pulled into them and then forced out. Blood pounded in her ears.

Her eyes protruded from their sockets, trying to find familiarity in her surroundings, and her mouth gaped with the combination of terror and breathlessness. Chest heaving with the effort of her exertion, her left side painful because of cramp, she thought that she would have to stop soon. How she had not fallen and injured herself was almost miraculous and the fear that she was still being pursued and the anticipation that she would be caught at any moment was unbearable.

Image 1

She altered course as she splashed through a stream, using a large bush as cover for the change of direction.

Then she suddenly swung herself behind a massive tree trunk, changing her route yet again. The oak was an old one and the massive and gnarled trunk gave only a little shelter, but little was better than none in her panicked state. With her back against the trunk, she slid down into a crouch, holding herself, trying to ease the stitch in her side, forcing herself not to burst into tears.

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It was impossible to hear anything but the wheezing of her lungs and her heart banging inside her chest, but she strained to listen anyway. It was full dark, but the moon was starting to show through the bare branches and give a little more light.

Still she could hear nothing - not a sound. There was only absolute silence - no rustle of movement, no murmur of the wood's nocturnal inhabitants; not even a breath of wind passing through the bare branches. Her heart slowed, her breath came easier but she did not move. The oak offered a small illusion of safety but it was more than she would have if she ventured back into the open. Would she be safer to wait until morning? Would the sunlight banish the monster?

Her courage returned and she pushed herself upright to try for home.

Ever alert, forever startling as though ready for another flight, she began walking. Slowly she picked her way forward into the undergrowth surrounding the oak. There was a clearing just up ahead, directly in her path, and by instinct alone she altered course to avoid it.

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With the clearing on her right, she watched the small space warily as she made her way past. She avoided the easy path in favour of the undergrowth.

As the clearing was left behind her, a sense of normality began to return to the wood.

Suddenly, she was so violently startled that her feet left the ground as she leapt sideways away from the triumphant screech of an owl as he bore his supper away in sharp talons. The mouse’s small squeak of despair was the signal for all other nocturnal sounds to begin again but Hazel’s senses had been forced to a heightened level when adrenalin re-flooded through her system. The hairs on her arms stood up from the skin and her eyes again bulged. After she had regained her breath a little, she continued on her way home, her legs feeble and shaking, almost unable to support her.

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The moon had risen and everything looked so bright and eerie; sparkles of early frost twinkled on leaves and branches. Since she had started calming down, she began to shiver with cold rather than fear. The stream she had stumbled into had soaked the strips of cloth that passed for shoes, and mud was splashed up her damp skirts. Wiping her nose on her skirt, she looked back to the clearing; nothing stirred there.

The woods were thinning, the trees less dense and she was returning to the outskirts of the forest. Every familiar tree, boulder and bush had taken on a different appearance in the moonlight. There was hardly any colour; everything had a surreal quality.

As she passed a massive rock formation, something large was moving through the undergrowth behind her, mumbling; she froze when she heard it. She slipped into the shadow of the rocks without a sound. The mumbling stopped and then a figure, a man, passed close by her hiding place. He stopped and turned. Even though she was fully concealed by deep shadow and she was holding her breath, the figure asked, "Hazel?"

"Luke?" she gasped with relief at the sight of a neighbour from the hamlet - someone close to her own age.

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"I heard you running and as you passed me I waited to see what you were running from. You seemed to be fleeing something because you looked very frightened. Are you alright?" Luke approached Hazel, his voice filled with concern.

"Did you see it?" she said and as he got close enough, Hazel grabbed Luke’s forearm.

"I did not see anything, but I heard something scuffling and snuffling about in the stream you splashed through. You must have confused it and it passed by me so closely that it lost your scent." Luke took his cloak and wrapped it around Hazel's shoulders as she stood shivering uncontrollably.

"I did not see you; I would have stopped if I had," she said and clutched the cloak around herself; her shuddering was worsening.

"I'm glad you continued, it may have heard us both if you had stopped. It is better that it went away on its own." Luke led her along the path; the walkway into the woods she and the villagers used when gathering firewood.

"I was so frightened. I don't know what it was, but it seemed to be playing with me as it was hunting me!" Hazel looked up at Luke’s face, perhaps hoping not to see amusement in his expression.

Luke said nothing, but he tightened his arm around her in a comforting embrace. They were soon in sight of the cottages that made up the hamlet and as he saw Hazel to her own cottage, he took his cloak back gently and smiled at her. She pulled the latch up and pushed the door, it caught on the doorstep and wedged just ajar.

"Here, let me," Luke said and moved Hazel to one side. He gripped the edge of the door as he pushed and lifted, and the door opened smoothly.

~~~

Read Part 3

Image 1 From Pixabay

I hope I gave the impression of how terrified Hazel was in those circumstances. I wrote this scene first. I had th image of a frightened girl running from a monster and at that time, I had no idea that she would become the main protagonist in the story (or that she'd go on to create three more books for me - not to mention the beginnings of more stories).

Image 2 Source

I know this tree (the tree in the story, not the photo), I used to play around it, climb it, run my hands over the bark. It's a spindly oak tree that has had a hard life.

Image 3 Source

Can you imagine that situation? I can't think of many situations more terrifying than being alone, pursued and then everything going deathly quiet... and coming across a clearing. It's like it was purpose-made... Just go into the clearing... where there's no shelter, no shadows to hide in...

Image 4 Source

Again, can you imagine? Nerves jangling, frightened out of your wits, everything quiet and then a shriek, a squeak and you know someone is going to be supper... just hope it's not you.

Image 5 From Pixabay

I wanted to wrong-foot my audience. Those of you that have read the story will already know what I mean, but for the sake of not spoiling it for those who have not read this story, I'm saying nothing more.

Building tension gave the readers something to grasp onto with regards to feeling empathy for the girl lost in the woods. We know she's frightened, lost and missing her dog. We've all been frightened and most of us can imagine how she feels as she searches for her pet. She's worried for her safety, yet his safety comes first, so we also know she's a kind person. What's not to like?

The relief she feels when she is found by Luke is understandable and also gives us something to hold on to and empathise with. The tension I built has evaporated for the time being and the reader shares her relief. I've also introduced Luke as a heroic figure, saving her from an unknown monster.

One more suggestion is made. Could he also be a romantic figure in the story?

Time will tell.

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