Viscous

• Lucas Nielsen, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2013

John fled into the trees blindly, never daring to turn and face the imminent death that pursued him. His rapid strides sent a flurry of dead leaves and sticks into the air, crushing and snapping sounds ricocheted through the otherwise silent forest. The frantic noises of his flight and his heaving, panting breaths seemed to further entrance the viscous monster. It desperately craved his blood.
"No," John wailed. "Please, God!"
The creature was oblivious to his pleas, its fang ridden mouth wide open as it roared in fury. John continued forwards, forced to leap over the fallen trees and jagged rocks that littered his path. The track began to ascend a steep mountainside, presenting both an obstacle and an opportunity. He ran up the rocky flank of the monolith, praying that the creature would be unable to follow him up the punishing slope. Digging his fingers into the rough gravel, he propelled himself forward with immense strength. He continued racing up the side of the mountain for a few more minutes until the roars of the monster behind him began to grow fainter.
He paused at last, daring to look back the way that he had come. He had ascended the slope faster than he thought. Squinting, he peered through the thickening mist that enveloped the mountainside. He scanned the forest, his eyes darting from tree to tree like those of a hunted animal. The dark trees seemed to be the only things there, or at least the only things he could make out.
The relived man had barely taken a step back down the rocky mountainside when the horrible roars began again, angrier and louder than before. Through the swirling mist, the monster's blood red eyes locked on to him, reigniting his terror. Its arms and legs flailed wildly as it shot up the slope toward him, its razor claws scratching and tearing at the earth.
He whipped his head from side to side, looking for something, anything that could help him. His gaze fell on a jagged rock a few feet to his right. He looked back at the beast, which was not slowing down. In a last, desperate attempt to save himself, he flung himself through the air and grasped the rock. His fingers locked on it like a vice. He pulled himself onto the surface of the stone and perched himself upon it. Wide eyed in terror, he gazed down at the monster below him.
"John, wait!" the monster shrieked, stopping dead in its tracks, staring up at the insane man he called his brother. "It's me John, it's Noah!"
For a fraction of a second, the crazed brother stared into his pursuer's eyes and seemed to echo a dwindle of recognition, but once more, the crazed thoughts flooded his mind.
John clenched his eyes shut and leaped towards the danger in front of him, sailing over his brother's head and hurtling down the mountain, finally setting his insanity plagued soul at peace.