Loran had done track in high school, though that was understandably out of his mind as he ran faster than he ever had before. What was on his mind was the moral peril of being the prey. Ironically, he had done track in high school, and the team he played for was called the Green Meadows Predators.
His heart was beating through his body like an engine running out of fuel. His head felt like it had been bludgeoned by a wild animal. In a cerebral sense, it kind of had been. His eyes darted around him and he jolted his head back to look behind him every few seconds in dismay.
He wore an old football jersey his dad gave him, some Chicago Bears player he didn’t care enough to remember, as well as heavy cargo pants with pockets filled of change, weeks-old receipts and other junk he forgot about, which when combined slowed him down considerably.
Loran cussed beneath his breath. “Fucking shit…" He could only murmur as he winced. Still imagining the blade that stabbed him, he quickly thought, "How'd he even carry that thing!? Damn…" He revolted.
He continued to make a mad dash through the staggering spruce forest, the eerie sounds of crickets and other night critters drowning out the sounds of his heavy pants and bloodied coughs. The blood in his mouth felt like hot lead melting out of him, not to mention his abdomen literally leaking out of him.
He finally felt comfortable stopping, now well into uncharted territory and very lost, but at least able to catch his breath. His old friend Daisy liked to say he would run himself to death with how committed he was to his sport. All that time spent out on the track, so terribly wanting that gold medal. Of course, Loran had to settle for silver, which he tried to pretend didn’t bother him. He hoped his gold medal performance was saved for tonight.
He went to pull out his phone but stopped himself- of course, no service out in Nowhere, USA, as he liked to sarcastically refer to it. It being Midridge, Illinois, of course. And it's not that they didn’t have service at all, they just didn’t have any out in the middle of Blackridge Forest.
After catching his breath, he desperately rolled around on the coarse, moss-covered rock he sat on and removed his sock to try and staunch the slash wound in his lower right stomach, as it spat out more blood out on the ground with horrific soreness as if begging to be wrapped in cloth. He continued to choke on the blood in his mouth every now and then as he tried to slow his breathing, as some bloody tears fell out of his eyes and back into his mouth, creating a disgusting cycle of hemophilia-lite.
He could almost hear Daisy in his ears tauntingly saying “I told you so.” Like a flashlight, his memories of her blinked in and out of his mind.
= = = =
“I just don’t understand why any of this is so important to you.”
Loran and Daisy sat in a claustrophobic classroom meant for tutors of a few students, staring at a catastrophically disorganized cork board covered in a spiderweb of colored string, cutout newspaper articles, and thumbtacks. It was a little bit like the opening scene in It’s Always Sunny, for those who know.
“I’m so close this time, seriously!” Daisy retorted back, her fervor for the mystery only heightening with each new pinned clipping she’d attach to the board before connecting them to the rest. It began to almost look like a dreamcatcher you’d find at a craft store, only this one took up the entire wall.
“How long did this take you to put together?” Loran asked with a concerned tilt of his head.
“Uhh… I lost track. But it’s fine, like I said I’m almost done with it.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“And then what? What are you going to do with this? We could’ve spent this time getting help on homework or something, not a wild goose chase.”
“Maybe I’ll send it to the police department. Besides, it’s senior year, I can afford some bad grades.”
Daisy stood up on the stool to get the pin closest to the ceiling wrapped around in even more string as Loran looked on continually puzzled. Her obsession with the disappearances around town and the pointless sessions of clue-gathering she dragged him into were starting to irritate him. He had been held back a year due to poor grades, which cost him his position on the track team for this school year. He had been really focusing on getting back on track, and Daisy often encouraged and congratulated him when he successfully passed a test or a quiz or anything. But meeting up with her to talk about situations out of their control was becoming a waste of his time and energy.
“At least it’s senior year for you. I have a test tomorrow.” He said scornfully.
“Well… you’ll have time to study later, right?” She said with a sheepish but playful grin.
“I guess.” Loran slumped down into one of the chairs as he checked the time- 3:02. The bus would free him from this in twenty one long minutes. Sensing his dejectedness, Daisy stepped down from the stool and sat next to him, still beaming with optimism.
“Hey, just imagine if the town gave us some kind of award for this. We might even be on TV.”
“There’s no way that’s going to happen. They’d never listen to you. You’re just a kid.” Loran replied, broadcasting his disinterest, but she failed to take the very obvious hint.
“Don’t let my youthful personality deceive you. I’m almost done with high school.”
“Yeah… high school is for kids. You.”
“Well- I… at least have a little optimism here. What if this all works out?”
“What are the chances of that? Besides, anyone whose tried has ended up-”
“We’re gonna be different! We’re gonna be better, or at least I’m going to, since you just don’t even seem to care anymore!” She aggressively conveyed, now a bit agitated with his pessimistic attitude. How dare he not take this as seriously as she does- this was basically her life's work, her giving back to her favorite little town.
“Whatever,” Loran simply rolled his eyes. “I’m going to go get some food.”
“Okay,” she said, calming down at the prospect of eating, “will you come back?”
“Probably not. I was going to leave as an excuse to not be here.”
“But… but you’re my partner in solving crime!”
“First of all, the overused phrase is partners-in-crime. Second of all, I’m not. I’m trying to get my academics back on track. Look, this is fun and all, but I’ve got my own things to worry about, alright?”
“But look, I even have your input on the-”
“I have to go, okay? Just… fill me in later, tomorrow,” he said on his way out of the room, briskly shuffling down the hall out of Daisy’s view.
She watched him get up and leave with haste, as she now stood alone in the classroom, a few tears welling up in her beady eyes all of a sudden. “Fine, I guess…” She said solemnly, starting to pack up her cork board and supplies and put it back into her bag, which was separate from her normal backpack, “more for me.”
Once the board was all folded up and the pens and pencils and string and thumbtacks and activity books (which remained mostly untouched), she sat down and held onto the bag very tightly, eventually becoming more angry at Loran than sad for herself. If he didn’t want to spend time organizing a case file with her for fun that will probably never see the light of day if she tried giving it to a real detective, well… then, that’s his fault. He’d miss all of the fun. This was her idea anyway.
Daisy’s life was effectively ruined from there.
= = =
He stood up from the rock shakily, stepping down before being forced to lean on a nearby tree, the coarse texture of its bark scratching against his left arm and hip. His legs gave out again and he sat between two giant roots of the great, mossy oak tree, panting and wheezing, stained red all over.
He began to feel faint, steady vibrations growling underneath him as the earth began to quake.
Loran’s breath picked up as he knew he had to move, but his legs did not permit such action. He tried multiple times to simply will his body back on its feet, to no avail. He began to panic.
The sound of heavy stomping continued to feel closer and closer, causing Loran’s spine to shudder like a frightened cat. They never sped up- they only grew in power with each thunderous step. It felt as if it were only a few feet away at this point.
“Just… just get it over with already, you coward!” He shouted as loud as his weakened lungs would allow. Immediately after, the reverberating promenade ceased promptly. Loran held his breath. The silence in the air felt almost cathartic.
Loran looked around frantically. No signs of anything shiny- that meant it was clear. He finally got himself to stand up and limply start to make a break for it. First order of business was to find his way to the police station and-
Schunk. Suddenly he couldn’t feel his abdomen anymore. A numb feeling quickly overtook his whole lower body. He looked down, to see a colossal, sharp piece of metal, the width of which stretched from his lower chest down to his gut, had been perfectly pierced through the center of his body. He realized it was a blade- the sword the size of a zweihander. He looked down to see his legs, which had treated him with such generosity up until now, be lifted off the ground. Then his eyes looked back up into the eyes of death.