Young Writers Society

Here's chapter two...obviously. Anyway, if you haven't read the intro and prologue yet, you probably should. Otherwise you'll be reading this story with one question in the back of your mind: WHAT THE HECK?

Chapter Two: Running from the Skeletal Hand

CRACK!

Lightning split the air with a deafening roar, the sky turning stark white until the bolt died away. The rain was thick and heavy, blinding my vision. My fur was spiked with mud. I had never exerted myself so much do to my ladylike lifestyle, and the effort practically broke me. Each step drained my energy.

I heaved myself through the thick mud, desperate to reach the safe drawbridge. But the red wood did not seem so safe anymore. It was spongy and slimy, covered with ooze. Below, the water splashed, and I heard the wailing shrieks of the castle guard serpent: “Dooo not leave! Stay-ay-ay here!”

“I can’t!” I wailed back. “I’m not brave enough.”

I dashed across the drawbridge and over the moat. Suddenly I stopped, realizing how stupid it was to be running away. It had been a bad dream, a nightmare. Nothing more. If I went back inside, I would find the castle untouched. Maid would be snoring peacefully in her four-poster bed. There is no thing as Skeletal Hands. Sighing, I turned around. My face whitened. I was holding something long and thin. I looked at my paw and felt my stomach wither. No! It wasn’t a dream after all!

The skeletal hand was clawing the outside of the tower and the moaning filled the air. I wasn’t scared until I felt the pain. My head spun and racked, clouding my vision and making me fall. My forehead seared hot and my bones felt as though penetrated by white-hot needles. I was about to lose consciousness when the pain died away and I was left panting on the ground. The Skeletal Hand giggled.

I looked up with such fear as I had never felt before. Tears of horror rolled down my cheek. I knew I could not stay. My heart was pulled fiercely in two directions, but the cowardly side one. As I stared up at the Skeletal Hand, my mind whirred. What did the flute have to do with this? And why was he hurting me? What had become of the maid?

I pulled myself free of the mud. My whole back was completely covered in slime, my fur matted and tangled. I thought about giving up right then and there.

But then I saw a vision of evil.

The Skeletal Hand was gliding down the castle to me. Its bones squeaked as it reached for me. I screamed and dashed off, blindly crashing through plants and weeds. I stumbled once, but didn’t stop to look back. I passed the castle grounds and started into the forest. Behind me, the Hand was snapping branches. A wave of cold rushed over me, I was thrown forwards, and I landed with a thud on the ground. The Hand glided closer.

“Oh, please,” I mumbled. “ Please go away.”

I felt hot magic on my back. The hand landed on me, fingers splayed like spider legs, and dug four deep scratches through my skin.

It burned like fire, throbbed painfully, hurt with pain unimaginable. I had not yet witnessed the power of dark magic, only good. So I thought I would wake up all healed. If I woke up.

If…