Creeping through the woods with only the moon and stars to light her way, Angela stopped often to listen for sounds of movement behind her. After trekking through what seemed like an unending maze of oak and pine trees, she sank down on a patch of overgrown wild grasses to catch her breath. Angela leaned against a tree stump as fear gripped her thoughts, wondering why she had never slightly suspected.
The sound of dogs barking and growling erupted off in the distance. Angela leapt to her feet, believing they were his Uncle Edwin’s hounds. The ones that looked more like wolves than domestic dogs; the beasts that licked his hands and snarled at her the time he took her to his Uncle’s place. The eerie mansion with its gargoyles that lined the edge of a slate roof stood on the crest of the hill overlooking the town, Renfield. The Victorian with its heavy drapes, dim lights, and dark corners reminded Angela of vampire movies. She had only been to the mansion once, which she thought was one time too many.
As the rustling of leaves, snapping of twigs, and growling grew louder she heard men shouting. The voices were too far away for Angela to determine what they were yelling. She heard water cascading over boulders and knew the river had to be close. Going around a clump of trees, her shoe sank into a mud bank. In front of her was the rapid moving stream eight feet wide and several feet deep. It appeared narrower and shallower than she had remembered from her high school days, eight years earlier. A deep, gruff voice rang out, “They’ve got her scent. It won’t be long now!”
I Love to Write!