God, help me!

My lungs burned as I blindly turned down another dark alley. Groaning at the pain in my throat, I put my hand up by my neck and felt the slick wetness.

Did they stab me?

Immediately, the thought exploded into another area of agony that filled my shin. Clamping down with my teeth to suppress the howl inside me, I realized that my leg struck something in the darkness. My momentum dropped me against a heavy table. While I’m on my knees in the muck, I discovered a piece of wood. Instinctively, I grabbed it. It slipped from my mud-covered hand. Shouts from behind me force me to grab the wood piece again. That’s when I realized the wooden shaft is about a foot long and has a weighted curved blade at the end. Light from the street showed me it’s a tool of some sort. A sickle, I think.

Still, it’s a weapon, I decided while I stumbled along. A flicker of light coming from the partial moon shows me the barest outline as I come to the end of the building. Rounding the next corner, I nearly fell over when I bounced off boards in front of me. The foul smell of manure overpowered my senses. My hand quickly determined a fence of rough wood covered in bark stands in my way.

“Fuck!” my unfamiliar voice growled.

Following the railing, I heard a nearby snort. The outline of a large animal remains hidden in the shadows, and it looked like an overly muscled cow. Momentarily, I considered going into the place as the sounds of my pursuers come closer. Then I shook my head. A big-ass bull would kill me just as quickly as the bastards coming for me. Panic filled me as the crowd noise as get closed in.

“Findeth yond Covan, putteth a stake through his undead heart!”

They’re talking in English but it’s hard to decipher. It reminded me of listening to a Shakespeare play. Still, a stake through the heart comment motivated my tiring legs. I remembered the anger in their wild eyes when I first encountered the growing mob. It almost made me pee my pants.

Forgetting about the animal in the pen, I pushed myself away from the fence. Hurrying to the darker area behind the closest structure I can make out, I slow my pace when I could no longer see. Then, I use one end of the wood shaft I’m holding to probe the area. Then I stepped into the darkness. While I’m catching my breath, my hearing tries to follow the sounds of the people hunting for me. However, my ragged breathing isn’t helping me. The ache in my shoulder grows worse and my legs are shaking from my escape.

Still, I don’t understand why they won’t give up. They’re acting like I killed someone. No, that’s not correct. Their pale faces under the torchlight looked afraid for some reason. They acted like they think I’m a damn vampire or something.  

While I considered the behavior, the noise and shouts fade for a moment. However, the stench of the place is getting to me. When I move to the end of the building, I realize I’m about to walk into a small pond and the smell immediately makes me puke. As I backed away, my retching nearly dropped me to my knees. Then I heard a shout.

Damn it!

Immediately, I ran around the shack. I’m not sure if they saw me, but the guy’s voice seemed close. As I blindly kept moving, my brain insisted the place was some type of rendering plant. However, I don’t care. Working my way around the dead remains, my feet keep kicking around bones and partially rotten animal skeletons. Then I fell into a massive pile of bones. Actually, as I’m struggling to get out of the place, I realized it’s the carcasses of various animals. The nausea swept over me, along with the terror of corpses all around me, threatened what’s left of my sanity. Tumbling off the rancid pile, I got to my feet. Finally, I noticed an open area ahead of me.

A glance back showed me two men with lanterns coming my way. The light appeared too far away for them to see me. Still, I kept moving forward as my aching legs desperately want me to stop. My ragged breathing sounded like a freight train, which I’m sure the mob would hear.

Coming out on an open area of grass, I can see a dark outline in front of me. It extends from my left to right as far as I can see. Getting closer, I realize it’s a wall. A damn tall wall stands in front of me.

This sucks!

Well, I’m too old to quit and too scared to give up. I told myself to just figure it out. My initial confidence quickly waned as the wall seemed to grow taller when I finally reached it. My heart dropped when I saw my obstacle to climbing over. Even in the dim light, I recognized the wall consisted of tall shafts of foot-wide wooden spikes. They’re stuck in the ground and extend up at least ten feet above me. A basketball player would have trouble touching the tops of the spikes even with a good jump. My quick glance back showed me the lanterns continue my way. I followed the rows of spikes, but I noticed more lanterns coming from the way I’m heading. The wall extended all the way around the town. It’s a situation which confirmed the worst of my fears. The poles remain tightly bound between each other, so I have only one hope. I must go up and over the top.

Who the hell has a wall around their town?

Obviously, this isn’t the Earth I’m used to! Or, at least not since before the Renaissance age. A town with spiked walls tells me I’m in the past. Just don’t ask how I got there. My brain fed me snippets of ideas as I stumbled along. However, I’m also grunted out my frustration because my mind continues to ask confusing questions. Logically, I want to know the reason people want to kill me. Where the hell am I? But such questions don’t matter, since I must escape from this danger.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Coming to a stop, I scan the figures holding lanterns, which seem to grow in number every time I look. I know what that means if they get me. Icy fear filled me when I saw the strange rooftop outlines of the village buildings. Since I can’t hide from the coming mob, I need to focus on going over the wall.

Finally, realizing I still held the sickle in my hand, an idea formed in my head. Since the end has a thick metal curved piece that runs out from the shaft, the design might be more useful than I thought. Using my hand to inspect the bound poles dug into the ground, I realized they’re connected by a crossbeam. I used my tool to probe above me and felt for another crossbeam. Then, I sank the sickle’s metal end into the top wooden crossbeam. Pulling myself up with the weapon, I floundered around until I got my feet on the lowest beam. With one hand on the next crossbeam, pull out the sickle and slide it between the pools just below the spikes. As I got to the top, shouts erupted from below.

“Make hast, the undead escapes!”

Now, I’m sure I heard curses as well. It only made me move faster. Carefully swinging over my leg to avoid my junk getting impaled on the spike, I see the first man to reach my location. He held up his oil lantern, and I saw his ugly face filled with pockmarks. On top of his head is a three-cornered hat, and he wore a frock coat, like I remembered in those paintings from the American Revolution. The man hurriedly pulls out a sword and swings it at me. As I get my body over to the other side, I pulled the metal blade up and away.

Unfortunately, my joy was short-lived as my foot slipped on the wood piece. Before I had a chance to think about it, I fell to the ground with the metal blade still in my hand. When I landed smack on my back, I heard the air leaving my lungs.

In a stupor, the pain filled me as I couldn’t breathe. Somehow, I turned myself over. A gathering crowd on the other side of the fence struggled to climb it. Struggling to my feet, I felt like my palm was on fire. It’s also slick from blood. The weapon nearly fell from my hand. Shaking my head at my injury, I let my legs carry me away. Darkness soon covered me as I stumbled along. As the sounds of the mob faded, my lungs burned for air, but fear kept me moving.

Soon, my jog becomes a swaying trot. Finally, it turned into a wobbly walk. But ahead in the shadowed night, I saw the line of trees. When I got past the first few trees, relief filled me since the brush getting denser.

Cops with dogs would have a hard time finding me here! Wait, why would I think that?

The thoughts immediately faded as my energy dropped like a rock as I pushed through the tangle of vines and brush. Finally, I stopped and listened for my pursuers. While my ragged breathing make it hard to hear anything, no human voices came to me. As I recount my terrifying time inside the village in my head, I slid down next to the trunk of a tree. Placing the metal tool across my thighs, I leaned back against a tree trunk. My stomach grumbled in hunger while my throat begged for water.

Maybe I’ll survive now.

My mind returned to the weird things that happened. Memories came across in fragments. I know I’m not in the right place. But I don’t understand how I arrived. The strange clothing, language, and a village with no paved streets definitely showed me I’m not in—where—well, whatever place I used to call home. Strangely, I’m calmer than I expected, considering I didn’t remember my name or home.

Covan!

That’s what one of the people trying to kill me called me. But it’s not enough. I don’t carry memories of much and those images that remain don’t come from this place. That much I’m sure of.

It’s a delayed shock!

That’s what I told myself, even though my instinct screamed I’m wrong. However, the adrenaline slowly subsided. That brought back the pain from the injuries on my body. My neck and palm carry a deep ache while my legs remain wobbly. Worse, I can’t see anything around me, but there’s no way I’m building a fire. Listening to the sounds of the surrounding forest, my fear slowly faded when I finally caught my breath. Still, the villagers who wanted me dead remained too close for my comfort.

Looking up through the trees, I caught sight of a few stars. However, they didn’t look familiar. Despite that, I focus on the brightest star, which is lowest on the horizon. For some reason, a piece of memory told me to follow it so I didn’t wander in circles. Struggling, I rose from my position and started to follow the star.

Slowly, the forest sounds came to me as I pushed on. After what seemed like miles of walking, I stumbled into a clearing. Before I stepped into the open area, the scent of smoke grew. Bent over with my hands on my thighs, I struggled to remain on my feet. Realizing the smoke would probably lead to people, I debated my next steps. Finally, I noticed the faint trace of an animal path amid the starlight. Since the trail heads toward the star, I followed.  

The growing scent of cooked food mixed with the smoke caused my stomach to growl again. Slowing my pace, I eventually caught the faint yellow flicker of a fire amid the dark forest around me. Quickly, I crouched down and listened. Carefully, I followed the path which led me to the fire. Eventually, I overheard muffled and indistinct voices. After halting, I moved off the path between two trees where I can partially see the campfire. Crawling along, I finally heard his voice.

“Come, my dear. Thee should eat. This meat keeps thee strength up,” a gruff voice came from the camp. “You’ll needth it for the next few nights before the full moon.”

The man’s tone gave me the creeps. Aside from the damn Shakespeare lines, his voice carries an eerie, menacing vibe.

“I’m not hungry!” a female voice replied in a near whisper.

Fear filled her tone despite the defiance. The man’s sinister chuckle came over the brush to me. Their exchange made me curious, so I decided to get a better look. After silently crawling closer, I frowned at the man’s lewd comments. Not that I have delicate ears, but this guy acts like the woman wants to hear his raunchy bullshit.

When I finally got a good view of the camp, I stopped. Even though their still several dozen paces away from me, it’s easy to observe the man who’s dressed in green smock and brown pants. His face is angular with a heavy beard. He stared at the girl with dark, almost black eyes while he sat on a log. His expression reminds me of a wolf ready to pounce on his prey. While he munched on the leg of a cooked animal, I saw the rest of it impaled on a stick by the campfire. My hunger came back, but I prayed my stomach stayed silent. The man’s longbow and quiver filled with arrows leaned next to him. He’s probably a hunter, so I know my odds of surviving get really low if he attacked me.

As for the girl, I couldn’t see much since she had her back to me. Her red cape had the hood pushed back, and I noticed her red hair simmering in the campfire’s glow. She visibly shivered, even though it wasn’t cold. Her head kept dropping to avoid his lecherous gaze.

“Well, thee won’t consume my food. Yet, thee body breeds excitement.” The man licked his lips. “Your grandma gave thee to me until we get to the city.”

The man threw the gnawed bone in his hand as he stood with a smile. He pulled off his shirt. Thick hair, like a beast, covered his powerful upper body.

“Come, my little Red! Off yond riding hood. I’ll useth thee liketh the girls in the brothel. You know well such things!”

The statement made my jaw go slack while I watched the woman slowly stand. She reluctantly pulled her red cape off.

Red Riding Hood?