“Her”
A story where love lingers longer than the living.
Some stories arrive like fire. This one arrived like mist.
Her isn’t a tale you read, it’s a feeling you chase. A memory you almost remember. A fear you almost outran.
It’s about what happens when grief becomes a labyrinth, and the only way out is through the dark. It’s about the ache that lingers. The voice that follows. The love that doesn’t let go.
Let this one wash over you slowly. And if you find yourself holding your breath, you’re not alone.
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The shadows seemed to flee from the flickering of the approaching torchlight; climbing along the walls like dark specters seeking a place to hide from the hated luminance.
Javen rushed down the tunnel, the torch in his hand sputtering as he ran. He wiped sweat from his forehead with his free hand leaving behind a smudge of dirt and ash. He could smell the ocean ahead. His mind raced. If the Kaneeshee caught him, his life was forfeit. His only chance was to make it to the ocean, where the vile creatures could not follow.
He could hear them gaining on him, their eight legs carrying them down the tunnel with swift determination.
Closer. Closer they approached!
How far was the ocean?
Closer!
He could almost feel them upon him.
Closer they approached!
His heart raced, "How far can it be?" he asked the gloomy tunnel as if it knew the answer.
He could hear their chittering vocalizations now.
Closer.
His breath came in gasps now as his legs began to feel like heavy weights holding him back.
Closer.
Panic began to rise in him, his mind racing. If he was caught, they would bring him to her. Her! The panic swelled.
The torch almost spent, its light sputtering letting off a pungent black smoke that began to fill his lungs. He struggled to breathe.
Dizziness. And then, the ocean. Water. Where the wretched pursuers could not follow. His heart began to beat even harder as if pulling him along the tunnel to the waiting welcoming arms of the sea. Just a few more steps and freedom.