Essay on The Guardian: A Narrative Fiction

through deep snow on a sled," he said, finally. "At first it's exhilarating: the speed; the sharp,

She absorbed her surroundings as she watched the trees rush by. She saw a large buck grazing on a patch of grass and giggled at the tiny chipmunks that seemed to be everywhere. She’d even saw a bear and thought it a little unusual for this time of year, but it was not uncommon. She pumped her legs and extended her stride. Her lungs expanded as they filled with air, her breath quickened as she waited for her second wind.

The man cowered in terror before the one that was the source of all of his fear. No, it wasn’t even a human. It was a vengeful demon. A vengeful demon, holding a gun, aimed directly at his head.

He ignored her seductive innuendo. “What time is it?” Nightburn sat up, yawned and stretched.

“It didn’t seem right to wake you when you’d barely slept,” he answered with a wicked grin.

Sarah slugged through the early morning work and realized-too soon- that she needed to make a trip to the house. She made her way, clasping her arms around her for warmth in the cold November morning. Painted Girl’s borrowed sweater did not help dissipate the cold air, and neither did the lingering whiskey in her system. A light shone in the window illuminating Grandfather and Dingle, who sat at the table together eating pie. She watched as Dingle grabbed a juicy strawberry from Grandfather’s pie and nibbled at it greedily. Grandfather must have finished his hunt early, Sarah realized. She had hoped to avoid Grandfather today but nature called. There was no choice, either the woods or the house. Sarah did an about turn and went for the

Now that he had breakfast, and lunch if the milk lasted, Ruby began on the path that lead through the woods. He could hear the larks calling; boasting, he imagined, to each other that they, too, were awake. Besides them it was quite.

I shake my head. The chances of me escaping the demon are thin. At least with another human, I’m on the same playing-field. As I run, trying to find a stair case or a window close to the ground.

I stepped back just as the thing came into existence. It raised it’s machete and was just about to strike when I sidestepped of the way. I had two choices. I could run to the partial safety of my car, or I could tire the night out running from that thing. I then realized I my only hope to survive was to kill this savage. I broke out at a full run, my muscles tiring from fatigue. I turned the key and was surprised to see my car starting. I peeled out and kicked it into gear and bore down on my pedal. Then I hit him and I sent him flying. But then he rolled over and got up. His fractured arm snapped back into place as he looked straight at me. I shivered as a glint caught my eye. His machete was lying in the grass right next to me. He didn’t seem to notice it, but surely noticed me. He came at me with a renewed hatred. He lunged at me. And I dived into the grass, emerging with the machete in hand. I ran towards him and sliced, into thin air. The thing was standing in front of me and let out a psychotic laugh. I then grabbed the Reaper and sent the blade through it’s heart, or where I thought it was. Instead of falling, it dissolved into pure black

The cold air brushing up against my bare skin, the soft flakes of snow landing on top of my head. "must keep going" I thought, "just keep going". My vision was beginning to get blurry, white patches began to show up on the bottom of my feet. The blurriness was getting so bad I stopped my run and began to waddle back and forth on the trail. My legs give out, my knees collapse under me and I fall onto the soft piles of snow on either side of the trail. The long beautiful trees dripping with snow looked like they came out of a fairy tale, the beauty was almost unrealistic. My eyes drift close and my body shuts down from the cold. Just before my eyes are completely shut I see the creature running across the trail its very hairy and has a long

“I think I just need to sleep on it. Good night.” I didn’t sleep the rest of the night. I laid in bed tossing and turning,

My brother is here!” I stepped down the stairs and heard a little mumbling. “Now Will, please take care of your niece. She may be rude, bu-”

The man, had he not died from the demon, was surely dead now. Blood pooled around the man's body, his corpse sprawled in an unnatural position.... unmoving...

Waking up before the rising sun on the morning of the hunt left me feeling groggy with my eyes slow to open and close when blinking. Walking through the narrow hallways of the cabin on the cool, roughly textured carpeted, floor I made my way to the petite kitchen. Being extra quiet to not wake up my mother was a main challenge. Trying to tippy toe around the cabin and dodging the creaky spots in the floor. Prior to eating breakfast, I began getting dressed in my own bedroom. All my clothes were laid out neatly on the low, softly padded chair placed in the corner of my room. Due to the fact that I was in northern Minnesota, the weather was bone chilling and the wind would seep right through your layers onto your unsuspecting skin. Once I had put on my long johns, sweatpants, and long sleeve shirt with a tee shirt on top I began to make my breakfast. I decided to have scrambled eggs that were cooked to perfection with the yolk golden mixed in with the snow white egg white and flakes of pepper sprinkled throughout. There was also toast with butter melted onto the crunchy outside making it soft with homemade strawberry jam spread thick on top.

The coat of armor I adorned, made of down feathers and a nylon shell, yielded no protection against the daggers of that cold winter air. As I peered out toward the horizon, I saw nothing but tree tops, and some snow capped mountain tops in the distance. With my feet bound to freshly waxed skis, the only thing stronger than my ski poles was my determination to get down the mountain.