14th June 2019 - 15 Minute Fiction Friday
Howling winds tore down the last remnants of autumn, deafening him, but still he could not escape that strange woman's whispers, as though they had travelled with him as he ran.
“Stay off the path. It’ll get you”’, she’d croaked, cackling, her aged eyes bulging, face puce.
"Crazy bitch," he muttered to himself, smiling as he turned up the volume.
"Stay off the path."
The leaves from the ground moved ominously towards him. The voice, the whisper, it was not her, it was menacing.
“You stayed on the path...”
He turned to see something - wild eyes, disfigured, arms raised.