Fan Fiction ❯ Journey to Hells Hollow ❯ Journey to Hells Hollow ( One-Shot )

Travelling by the light of a pale purple moon, he made his way through the forest and undergrowth. He paused momentarily as a thorn caught the skin on his leg. Quickly, he pulled away again, ignoring the sudden bolt of pain as the brambles tore through his flesh and drew the cold crimson blood from beneath, thoroughly aware of the hunters following close by.

Stumbling through the bramble, he came to a clearing. Skidding to a halt he looked around him, taking in the tall grass and stringy leaves of a weeping willow at the edge of the clearing. Picking up speed he crossed to the other side and disappeared into the shadow of the willow.

He tore his small weight around the corner, only vaguely aware of the branches scratching at his face and making cuts on his pale skin. A right, a left. another right. Any direction! Just trying to lose them.

'This way quick!" He resisted the urge to turn and look behind him as he heard the voices, only a short way off.

Keep on going. Don't stop. Don't let them get you. He whispered in the depths of his own mind, as he raced once more to the left. Left. Right. Keep on going don't stop.

His red eyes flashed in the dark. Worry. Fear. Pain. All of them telling him to escape, to run away. Not far now. Past the oak and out of the forest. Down the Hill. Be careful, it's steep. Too steep. He fell. Coldness pouring through his body as he landed face down in the snow. He gave out a yell, not realising that he was doing so, as he tumbled down the harsh slope of the hill. Landing at the bottom with a thump he rolled over onto his front. Lying in a daze and looking up at the top of the hill.

"He's there! Come on men." The red of his widened eyes dulled slightly. At the crest of the hill, the group of hunters were looking down at him with triumphant faces. He scrambled quickly to his feet and wiping his blood from his eyes, he tore out across the bleak landscape. Biting his lip with one, deadly sharp tooth and praying to himself that the sun would not rise.

"I pray to hell that the moon will not dim. At least until I get there." He mumbled under his breath, closing his eyes briefly, as he hoped his prayer would be heard.

He stopped down low under a bridge, his bare feet splashing in the freezing water, warming the colder blood running in his veins. Just over the river. Just over the river. He could feel the warmth of the rising sun on his back, hear the shouts of the hunters, taste the sickly sweet taste of morning air on his tongue, and pressure on him to hide away, increased with his fear. Dulling every sense as he turned the familiar bend in the river, his splashing footsteps echoes by those of the hunter. He stepped out into rougher waters, raising his pale arm to shield his eyes. Through the icy spray he could see the willow wisp brushing the surface of the water to his right, the ever cascading river pushing against him, willing him to fall, to his left a brightly lit village, surely the one the hunters had come from. Straight ahead he could make out Hell's hollow, the cave which no humans could enter His destination.

"Get him now, before he runs off again." Snapped from his glee, he turned his head to look behind him, The bright torches of the hunters, held high above their heads to keep them out of the waters way. The thick black wood of the crosses each held around there neck. And the dark metal of the swords and spikes around the waists of the majority of the hunters and the silver light surrounding them, only visible to him and others like him. Their purity, the glistening life force that declared them human, and the thing missing from his own slender being that declared that he, was not.

He turned back to his destination and finding his footing amongst the familiar slippery rocks jumped across each safe stone in turn. Carefully avoiding the ones that would send him falling into the quickly running river. Ten jumps right, don't slip up. Halt and count to five. One straight on. Five to his left and another one forward. Ignore everything around you, just concentrate on the sequence. The sequence of jumps and stops each of his kind must learn. One jump left now. He was vaguely aware of the hunters following his every move, carefully and precisely. He stood rooted to the small rock on which he stood, his vision clouded by a sudden over powering fear. He jumped. Missed. Fell. Plummeting into the water. He was swallowed up by the warmth, burning at his frozen, dead skin. He reached for the side of the river, trying to pull himself out onto the bank of Hells Hollow. Too late. One of the hunters grabbed at the collar of his shirt and pulled him to the bank of the river. HIs eyes widened and he struggled against the hunters grip. He was less than a meter away from the Hollow. But it was useless. The hunter slammed him to the ground and with a hand on his chest, pinning him down. Drew one of the spikes from his belt and slammed it into his chest.

<o0@0o>

The struggles stopped. The hunters left. Leaving behind them the crumpled remains of a vampire, his limp hand stretched outwards, his finger tips just inside the entrance of Hells Hollow.