no one was allowed to leave the forest.

once you were inside, past the shaky trees with their crossed branches and into the farthest back-reach with its cruel tendencies - you could never get out. not in any way that mattered. that was a fact passed down from older to younger, from parents to their wandering babes, teens with their ghost stories to spook the juniors. the knowledge marked the very ground of the town, exists as an unspoken line for the yet-living. so no one went out there, only the dead and the desperate.

leaves, withered and dry, crunched under heavy foot as she printed forward into the deep. the air was colder out here, farther still from home. no mind was paid to the nipping wind racing past, blood rushing and tingling through every part of her body. whether what kept her forward was the fear or adrenaline, it doesn't matter much now. jumping over tangled roots, weaving back and forth between trees, hair and clothing catching on branches that reached their hands to drag her down. at a certain point, it all began to blur together, repetitive, tranquil in motion.

she was losing vision, the exhaustion was beginning to set. she was too far in now, this was the fact of her situation.

the forest was quiet. her heavy pants, the distant caws of crows, and the jagged off-beat of her aching heart were the only sound to be heard. nothing to be done, no choice to be made. she pushed forward. the trees began to lean in, the sky began to tilt into the ground.

a shot rang out.

that silence was shattered in an instant. the forest erupts in agony. like instinct, like a frightened lamb, she tries to turn. until her leg gives out and she goes crashing into the floor. the scrap of the sticks and the rocks was nothing compared to the white-hot pain that flared in her thigh. she screams. shrill enough to silence the birds and worsen the ring in her ears. it wasn't enough to slap a hand over her mouth with a sob and dig teeth into flesh. there was no time for that.

a branch cracks from behind. it's too late. with the last pulse of strength, she digs her fingers into the dirt. arms shaking violently, she manages a few inches before she's slammed down, air knocked from her lungs.

"now where d'ya think yur goin'?"

she wheezes as he digs his heel into the middle of her spine. the man squats, pressing his full weight forward until there's a sickening crack. with the force, she's unable to breathe, unable to plead - as if this would go any other way. a strong hand lays against the back of her thigh, edging at the end of her skirt. it's pulled up. the cold air rushes forward and her skin raises. his calloused fingers rub into scarred flesh. she shudders. a few seconds too long is spent like this, dirt scratches beneath her nails as she digs them into the ground.

it's a slow movement, the drag of his fingers, moving up until he brushes against her burning heat. the bullet wound that bleeds sluggishly. pain flares as he shoves his fingers into the hole, stretching the torn flesh. with no capacity to scream she's left with a distressed choke and blackening vision. the man shakes above her, curling his finger, pushing deeper inside as she trembles. it was unbearable.

there was no use for prayer as no god reached these lands, but she closed her eyes and prayed.

even with the crashing thunder of everything, above the shake of the trees, above the screams of the forest, she hears the approach of another. eyes crack open to be met with two muddy sneakers. she sobs something that could be misconstrued as a plea before her head is violently yanked back. choking, eyes bulging, metal tears into the skin. shaking hands come up to desperately scratch at the chain around her neck.

he stands above her, face obscured with the halo-sun behind his head. there's a glint in his hands and she stares into the eye, the reflection of a frightful face. the chain snaps and her head is slammed back into the ground. the forest goes still.

there's a click and the world goes black.