The Beginning
500 Words
Rain darted onto the slippery pavement.
Drains were almost overflowing and trees fought against the whistling wind.
Rosabel, or widely known as Rose, held her hood over her head and kept walking.
She longed to reach her home despite the deserted, foggy streets and end the day peacefully.
Everything seemed enclosed beneath thin layers of fog.
This week had been particularly hectic: she had encountered a strange man during her lunch break who asked her some very questionable things.
However, minor events such as that wouldn't ever ruin her week as much as the strange havoc that occurs almost every day in Darkundurn.
A dog barking in the distance interrupted her steady pace; she continued onwards with a much faster jog.
Unlocking the door, she took off her coat and hung it on a hook on the wall.
The weekly newspaper lay neatly folded as she left it on the wooden table in the kitchen.
Rose opened a high cupboard and reached for a glass.
Upon doing this a sharp pain struck her head - causing a loud ringing in her ears.
Rose collapsed onto the sweeped floor and clasped her ears.
She attempted to return to her standing position, only to slip and hit her head on the stiff, marble counter.
Two hands, in unison, slammed onto the white tiled floor while clenching themselves firmly.
"Not...again..." her weak voice whispered, fading away as she lowered her head.
Her treatment stood uselessly on the bedside table in the room above her.
In an instant, the agonising minute passed: leaving Rose embarrassingly crouched down.
She recovered to her original stance and headed upstairs.
The chill air of her bedroom consumed her blankets and her pillows - despite the fact that it was spring.
"I really need to get extra medication" she mumbled, rubbing the side of her head; "oh, well, I'd better see what the morning brings."
Trees were surrounding the home, much like if they were protecting her.
Protecting her from the danger ahead.
Grasping the morning's fresh branches, a hand emerged from the blue striped sheets covering the bed.
A weather forecast sent out daily on the following Sundays promised a good amount of honeydew-rich sun but the misty pathways running outside thought otherwise.
The hand's connected figure disappeared into the to wash themselves and returned to dress.
Whenever she had free time she visited the library to read without any disturbance.
She followed this favorable schedule daily and enjoyed reading the library's many unique books.
While walking from her home, she noticed a masked man leaning against tall concrete.
His mask soon came into detail as she approached it's proximity.
It beared the features of a human face coloured with a shiny white paint.
He soon became aware of the girl's presence but remained leant against the wall.
With a sudden abrupt outburst, he made his way towards her - gradually increasing speed.
He lunged at her with his expressionless mask.
"We need to leave this street. Now."
- Writer
