Claws Of Agony

Part-3 (Running from Chains)

Dakore’s body screamed for rest, her lungs burning with every ragged breath. Her legs felt like they no longer belonged to her, but she forced them to move.

Please get up! she pleaded with herself. Get up now... Run!

Summoning every ounce of strength left, she stumbled forward, pushing herself to her feet and gaining speed. The pounding of her bare feet against the earth was drowned out by the deafening thudding of her heartbeat in her ears. Freedom was ahead, just beyond the dark curtain of trees. But just as she felt hope flicker in her chest, a rough, calloused hand seized the back of her neck.

“Where you think you are going?” a voice rasped from behind her. The foul stench of cola and stale breath wafted past her nose, making her gag.

Panic surged through her as she struggled, twisting violently in his grasp. His fingers dug into her flesh as he yanked her backward with brute force. “I catch am!” he shouted to the others, his voice cutting through the night.

Dakore kicked, thrashed, and threw her weight in every direction. She felt his grip tighten around her waist as he tried to hoist her up, but she refused to be lifted. She let out a guttural scream and swung her elbow back, landing a sharp, unexpected hit to his left eye.

“Ahh!” he groaned, momentarily losing balance. It was all the opportunity Dakore needed.

With one final wrench, she broke free and bolted. His hands swiped at her blindly, but he only managed to grab her head wrap. As he yanked, her abaya slipped from her shoulders, making it easier for her to slip from his grasp. The fabric tore away, and she fled, her hair loose and wild in the wind.

This time, she didn’t stop. She ran faster than before, each step fueled by desperation. The world around her became a blur—branches snapping, twigs slicing at her skin, the shouts of her pursuers fading in and out like a distant nightmare.

She had no idea where she was going, no plan beyond survival. She zigzagged through the trees, breaking her speed only to take sharp, unpredictable turns. She counted the seconds in her mind, trying to drown out the fear, but she soon lost count.

Then, suddenly, her foot struck something solid.

She lurched forward, her body tumbling onto hard, unyielding ground. The sharp sting of scraped knees and palms barely registered as she gasped, looking up. Her breath hitched—she had stumbled onto a tarred road. The smooth surface was a stark contrast to the wild, untamed forest behind her.

Dakore whipped her head around, scanning the darkness for movement. Had she lost them? The once-deafening cries of men chasing her had faded, leaving only the chirping of night insects and the distant rustle of trees. Her body sagged in exhaustion.

She had run far. Too far.

Her feet dragged as she took slow, hesitant steps along the side of the highway. Every part of her ached—her legs, her ribs, even the space behind her eyes. But stopping wasn’t an option. She had to keep moving.

She walked until her body betrayed her. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the cold asphalt. The world around her was silent, save for the howling wind cutting through the trees. Dakore curled into herself, hugging her knees to her chest. She had no more tears left to cry, only the dull, aching knowledge that she had nowhere to go.

When will this night end? she thought bitterly. Please, just let it end.

She lay there, shivering, exhaustion and despair swallowing her whole. For a moment, she considered giving up. If they found her now, she wouldn’t have the strength to fight. Maybe it was inevitable.

Then, suddenly, light.

A bright, piercing beam cut through the darkness, startling her. Dakore bolted upright, her heart leaping into her throat. Headlights. A car.

Hope, frail but alive, flared in her chest.

She couldn’t let it pass her by.

Before she could second-guess herself, she staggered to her feet and ran onto the road, waving her arms frantically.

“Help me!” she cried, her voice hoarse and desperate. The vehicle showed no sign of slowing. Panic seized her—what if they didn’t stop? What if they didn’t care?

The car screeched to a halt just feet away from her, the tires skidding against the asphalt. The driver blared the horn, a furious burst of sound that rattled through her bones.

The driver’s door swung open, and a man stepped out, cursing in irritation. “Are you mad?! You dey find death for night?”

Dakore barely registered his anger. She stumbled towards him, gripping the edge of the car door for support. “Please… please help me,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

The man scowled as he looked her over, taking in her disheveled state, the dirt caked on her arms, the tears streaking her cheeks. He frowned.

“Wetin be dis?” he muttered, his suspicion evident. He looked at her as though she were some beggar trying to scam him. “You think say I be fool? You be one of those people wey wan beg for money?”

Dakore shook her head violently. “No! Please, they’re after me! They—”

A sound in the distance made her blood run cold.

Shouts. Growing louder.

The driver noticed it too. His eyes flickered toward the dark road behind her, the voices carried by the wind. His frown deepened. Then, without another word, he jerked his head toward the car.

“Enter.”

Relief nearly knocked the breath out of her. She scrambled into the passenger seat, her hands shaking as she fumbled to shut the door. The man slid back behind the wheel, muttering under his breath as he threw the car into gear.

As the vehicle roared forward, Dakore turned her head, watching the dark figures emerge from the tree line in the rearview mirror. Torches flickered in their hands, their shadows stretching like twisted monsters against the night.

But they were too late.

Dakore pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window, exhaling a shaky breath. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe—just maybe—that she had escaped.