The

 

Bushens

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Page 2

Chapter 1
The End is Near

Was this excitement, he asked himself. It sure wasn't fear. Fight, or not to fight? In the woods he could maybe catch her off guard. No, he shook his head, ashamed of what he was thinking. It was her after all and he didn't stand a chance. So then, was this in fact fear? A fear of the inevitible death perhaps? A fear of being punished and tortured slowly? She was a very horrifying woman that literally beamed fire from her eyes, especially when she was extremely angry.

He cut a corner in the woods but the click-clocking got closer as it echoed through the otherwise deafly quiet dead-woods.

Snowflakes started to stream down the sky in a calming, beautiful, quiet and careful fashion, only to be instantly melted by the violent speed of the boy's sprint. The calming of such beauty quickly exploded into small minuscule splashes of water as the flakes flew into the boy's eyelids and brushed against his cheeks. The remaining flakes danced through the air around him.

He took a quick glance behind. She WAS THERE, AND COMING FAST. How frustrating. How persistent, he thought. She was on a horse and was still able to gain ground in the woods through all the twists and turns? The horrifying woman that was chasing him was dressed in all black. She had curly thick rows of nappy black hair that heavily bounced up and down in rhythm to the click-clocking of the horse she rode. Her steed was a brown quarter-horse with a protective metal helmet on, as if it was a warhorse. She galloped ferociously with an intense concentrated look of fiery dead-set-eyes that could only be explained by her boiling rage. And she was ready to explode at any moment to set forth her version of Armageddon.

As the boy ran, he had an instant flash of a calmer past. The woman had a warm smile as she lovingly put a bowl of hot porridge in front of him. He looked up at her and smiled. The bowl was comfortably hot to warm his cold hands that cupped the heated air around it. NO! He shook his head violently and clenched his jaw tightly. Time has changed, that was just a fake dream, he thought. From a peaceful calming feeling of protection, safety and warmth, to a literal cold wintry day full of gritting intensity and violence ready to ensue.

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The

 

Bushens

 

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