Running Time - The Wolf in a Sheep's Skin Coat

The man was nice enough Anais supposed. He wasn’t unpleasant at least. His name was Richard Cordele, he was 43 and he told Anais things about his home life, his job, his friends, and his family; trivialities even he seemed to lack much interest in, but his car was warm and the teen was just happy to be out of the cold. Sufficed to say, she didn’t feel bad when she began tuning out his monotone story of how his cat hid the only working remote in his house for a week straight. They stopped at a gas station at one point and he asked her if she wanted anything to eat to which she graciously declined but asked if he might bring her a cherry slushy instead, he agreed, refusing the money she offered up to pay for it and came back with a myriad of snacks anyway that he said she was welcome to indulge in as well.

Anais quickly decided she did indeed very much like him after that.

A few minutes went by with the pair sitting in comfortable silence, Richard munching on a candy bar, eyes fixed on the road and Anais beside him fidgeting, tinkering with this and that, turning on the radio, fiddling with the tuner until she found an acceptable channel, and sipping on her icy treat as she ignored the incessant worry in the back of her head telling her to turn back now and go home, insisting this was all a terrible, horrible idea. It was too late now though, and if by some miniscule probability she gave the people she loved most in the world a chance to make it in that world as a direct result of doing this, then so be it; she’d roll with whatever punches the universe saw fit to throw at her. It wasn’t long after coming to this conclusion that Anais felt her eyes become heavy and a jaw cracking yawn escaped her throat, making her eyes water a little as she set her barely consumed drink aside, not really caring to finish it anymore. She glanced at the time on the dash and was mildly surprised to find it had grown so late, where had the time gone? She wondered. She seldom think what her family might be doing at this very moment; settling in for bed maybe? Putting away what meager leftovers they may have saved of dinner without her having of been there to eat them?

Searching for her frantically?

Anais forced herself to dispel those thoughts immediately, glancing at the man beside her instead to distract herself. He was a decent guy, she thought, but she wasn’t quite comfortable with the idea of falling asleep in the presence of a stranger, decent or not. In retrospect she probably should have considered this before deciding to hitchhike half way across the country, but it was what it was, and she’d just have to deal. Resolving to simply muddle through her fatigue Anais reached into the backseat to fish out her large duffle bag, laying it awkwardly across her lap, she began rummaging through it until she came up with the object of her desire; her withered science fiction book. Zipping her bag back up and settling it against her side as a buffer against the hard vinyl car door panel, the chocolate-caramel haired girl cracked her book open to where she left off last and thoroughly engrossed herself within its pages.

Or at least she tried to. Anais found, frustratingly, that her environment was working treacherously against her resolve to stay conscious and caught herself fighting to keep her head upright and eyes focused on the words before her on more than one occasion.
‘No!’ She mentally scolded herself in a voice that sounded suspiciously like her father’s. ‘It’s bad enough you’re in a strange car, with a strange man, in a place you’re unfamiliar with, after dark Ana! If you fall asleep now who know what’ll happen? I mean Richard’s a nice guy and all but you were raised smarter than that. Nice does not equal good.’ She told herself these things and knew they were without a doubt the truth, that she should fight harder to stay awake, that there was something wrong with her suddenly being so undeniably weary, but oh, the steady ride was so lulling, the night outside so crisp, so wintry, yet the heating within her confinement such a cloying, benevolent balm against it.

The radio murmured to her gingerly like the sweet lilting voice of her mother, relaying to her in the listlessly waning eve slews of glitter filled fairytales, painting vivid canvases of princes and their delicate, lofty princesses caught infinitely in bewitching magic kingdoms. The windows where growing foggy with the warm, even breaths the two passengers passed between each other like soft spoken secrets, and Anais was oh so, so very tired. The mocha skinned 16 year old found it in herself only to adjust her duffel so she might curl around it in her seat as best she could, pillowing it against her face and the window before falling into a light doze, only vaguely aware of her surroundings. She told herself she would keep it this way; that she would absolutely not go too deeply down into the coiling, beckoning grasp of sleep, but the thought had barely an inkling of a chance to form before tapering off into an all-encompassing mute that stripped her world of all sense and recognition.

Anais dreamt of her childhood; of her parents, just before Aiden had been born, when it had been just them three, at ease in their place in the world, unhindered with worry for things such as food or money or a place to sleep that night.  She dreamt of their car rides filled with another, but almost entirely the same, subdued radio chatter. Of herself curled, much as she was now, in the backseat of their little Nissan, fickly not resisting sleep but not yet giving into it either, caught in a hazy, rose colored in-between, where the lights on the street and inside the tunnels whispered over her face, mellifluous as a loved one’s caress, lighting the small space of the backseat for only a touch of a moment before being swallowed back up in darkness. She dreamt of fading into a comforting slumber, watched over and inconceivably cared for by the two soft edged silhouettes sitting up front conversing in a hushed timbre, listening to her father’s deep, rumbling baritone and her mother’s light, wispy alto and believing that the world had never possibly been quite so enveloping, so welcoming, so willing to cradle her within it’s warmth and nurture prior to this this very clouded, very captivatingly surreal moment in her life. It was the ending of that ever present radio chatter that stirred her.

It was the hand of a stranger on her thigh and the heat of unfamiliar breath in her ear however, that woke her.

Anais’s eyes snapped open quicker than her fog riddled brain had time to ascertain and suddenly the world tilted in a disorienting flurry of movement as she reacted solely on instinct, striking out with one hand to shove against the unwelcome, suffocating mass of a man pressed too closely to her body at the same time the other made fumbling, panicked work of the lock and handle to her right, beneath the weight of her large bag. Just as abruptly as she had reacted, Anais was suddenly tumbling into gravel, grit scraping into her hands and knees painfully, and her heavy bag jerked the arm its strap was wrapped around as it flew out with her. Anais had barely the time to realize that they had pulled over to the side of a barren road with nowhere to run but dense, dark forest before she had scrambled to her feet, fighting off a bout dizziness and nausea. However when the man behind her let out an indignant curse and the rustling sounds of him struggling after her became evident, the brunette took off in a dead run that once won her a second place championship and didn’t look back.

The world was dark around the edges as she tripped and tumbled her way frantically through foliage and shrubbery, heaving in heavy bouts of frigid air that tore their way down her throat and into her lungs. A rock caught the toe of her foot and Anais went tumbling down hard, barley managing to brace herself against the rough bark of a tree as her head swam from the fall. Resisting the urge to gag, the teen swallowed thickly and tried to stop the shaking in her hands. She had to calm down, she couldn’t think like this!

There was the sound of someone snarling out a string of curses in frustration and struggling through thick umbrage somewhere in the distance however and all logic flew from her mind as Anais set off wildly once again, resisting the urge to break out in panicked sobs, not doing much more than whimpering out shuddering little sounds of terror as fat hot tears began pouring from her eyes, her panting breath pluming out in big exaggerated clouds of frost. He was still following her?! What a freak!
Richard pursued her for what felt like forever through the dark, dank thicket, driving them both further and further into the heart of the forest, bringing only more darkness and less sound, something that only caused the already tight coil of fear wrapped up thick in the dark girl’s chest to compress further.

Unpleasant things awaited fretful children like herself bumbling through the woods to come unbidden through their dens straight into gnarling, hungry claws after all.

Right as Anais thought she might have lost her assailant in the dense trees however, the ground beneath her right foot slopped at an extreme angle and suddenly with a high pitched yelp, the girl was tumbling head over heels down a rocky hillside. Before she’d even rotated thrice in her unexpected plunge however, Anais worked her limbs around her plush body sized bag, protecting her face and whole front side from the jagged rubble that scrapped unmercifully over her back and legs with malign vigor. Punching out a groan and a curse as she reached the bottom, Anais pushed herself to her feet, one arm still clutching her pack and the other reaching back to gingerly prod at an oozing wound on the back of her head.

“Fucking bitch!” Richard howled ferociously from his perch atop the hill before beginning to scrabble his way over the rock face after her, eyes flashing murderously in the moonlight. Anais let out an entirely involuntary squeak of horror and turned tail, limping as fast as her body would allow further into the woodland, her vision blurring as whatever was in her system demanded she relinquish hold of her consciousness.

The pounding of heavy feet behind her had a myriad of whimpers and other pathetic sounds pouring from her mouth as she knew- while she’d had a head start- there was no way she’d be fast enough to outrun him much longer. She was pretty sure her ankle was twisted and the throbbing from her head along with the drug she was almost certain had been snuck into her drink earlier was making colors dance across her eyes, but dear sweet Jesus, she didn’t want to die.

'Or worse.' something wicked sneered as memories of unwelcome fingers brushing her skin and wet disquieting breath ghosting over her face flashed across her mind and she tried to push away the sickening feeling it brought to her gut.

The images sent her propelling faster over crunching leaves and snapping pine needles, her teeth gritting against the agony in her ankle as she forced the thoughts out of her head for now. It would do no one any good to hyperventilate or pass out from pain now. Then out of nowhere the ground beneath her grew aqueous and instead of trotting over dirt and vegetation she found herself kicking up chilly splashes of water; the moonlight reflecting brightly off its surface, making seeing a little easier and it's frigidity soothed her injured talus. The realization that she was now facing the precipice of a broad, outstretching river however was one that sent her heart plummeting into her stomach in despair. She was Damned.

“Nowhere to run now, huh ya stupid fucking twat?” Her attacker rasped gleefully from behind her, and she turned, shaking, tiny teardrop trickles of water scattering from her hair as she whipped around to find his face set in a twisted, bloodied up grin, eyes exuding malintent as he stepped dangerously closer. The metallic glean of moonlight was her only warning before he struck out at the teen with a sleek blade he seemed to produce from nothingness, spearing it through her shoulder and forcing her bag from her grip, throwing it crashing into the lake. Anais released a screech of burning anguish upon contact before he pulled it back out and she crumbled down into the water below clutching the wound, cursing him to Hell and back through clenched teeth as adrenaline buzzed in her ears like a swarm of angry hornets. He was upon her in seconds, moving with all the easy grace of a fluid hunter having taken down its millionth prey and Anais tried her best to throw herself about violently, intent on dismounting the feral swine with a screaming wound in her shoulder, but he immediately set about slicing open her clothes, swatting aside her grappling limbs like they were insignificant insects fluttering too far into his periphery. He was letting out disturbingly pleasured, breathy sounds all the while, drowning out Anais’s terror-stricken cries and pleas for him to stop, to get off, to leave her alone, and for a moment she swore the world was burning down around her.

As he made slow waterlogged work of her attire, paying no mind to the stinging paper thin nicks and slices he peppered across her skin in his stead, and Anais found herself half trapped in her own head, running over regrets and wishes and repentances of her own awful childish stupidity. Oh how she just wanted to go home, wished she'd never gone! Yearned to crawl into bed with her parents and allow them to cradle her warm and safe within their care! How she wanted to be anywhere but here! In anytime but now! Hungered to never have even been born to begin with, or better yet, for the monstrosity above her to have never even been a consideration in the hands of creation! She just wanted to be away! Away, away, away from here! Away from him!

Her struggling increased as he finally got her shirt open and began yanking her jeans over her hips painfully, savagely not bothering with the fastenings at all. Her panic reached its peak as her heart thudded wildly to the point of pain and she fought to breathe properly. She felt out of control, carried away, separated from herself, something all together else than she was...! In her flailing then however, her hand struck a rock beneath the surface of the ravine and reacting solely out of self-preservation, Anais gripped it securely in her palm and swung it up and around with a strength she didn’t believe she possessed into Richard’s temple, taking a vindictive satisfaction in the resounding ‘crack’ and cry of pain it produced. Her aggressor reared back with a snarl clutching his bleeding face, instinctively dropping his knife as he did and Anais took the opportunity to snatch it up and roll out from under him; struggling to her feet as water poured off her heavy, ruined clothing. She pointed the weapon at the beast of a man before her in both hands, trying and very much failing to look threatening as fear and cold sent her body into powerful bone rattling trembles.

“Aw, come on now Anais.” He groused out in an unsettlingly calm voice, coated with a layer of hysteria as he blinked up at her through the blood and water pouring over his face, a manic grin plastered on his lips. “Good little girl’s shouldn’t go around playing with knifes. Someone could get-hurt!” He lunged at her before the words even fully left his mouth and wrestled the blade from her slippery grasp, flipping it around with a feral, practiced ease to face her once again. As he reared back to pierce her with it once more, Anais, with an all too vivid recollection of what it felt like the first time around, struck her hands out in a feeble, impulsive need to protect herself and suddenly there was a booming force throwing the pair backwards. Anais was sent sailing into the dark, frigid depths of the lake and Richard slammed against the broad, mountainous trunk of a tree before his unconscious body dissipated inexplicably into a glittering nonexistence, going unnoticed by the disoriented girl struggling in the freezing water to fight her way to the top. Anais broke the surface with a great, heaving gasp, her limbs flailing to keep her afloat as she whipped her head around hysterically, sopping curls slapping across her face wetly as she did, and scoured the moonlit shrubbery frantically for her attacker.  Her breathe seethed passed chattering teeth in ragged, foggy puffs of relief as she found no trace of him and hoped he must have been spooked off by… whatever… that had been. Right. What exactly  had that been again?

God, her life was weird sometimes.

Something moved in the water out of the corner of her eye and for a horrible, fright filled moment Ana seized up in a suffocating almost panic only to release a tremendous sigh of reprieve when she realized it was just her bag floating along docilely due to the foam cushions built in for just such an occasion as this.

Well.

Maybe not just such an occasion, but a situation involving water no doubt. With a huff of disbelief as she reran through everything that had just happened- questioning if it had really, truly happened at all the whole while- in her head. Anais grabbed the duffel and, coercing it into a floatation device before teeth clatteringly paddling her way to the other side of the river, never having been so grateful for dry, warm -by comparison- land in her life as a bone deep exhaustion crept over her brain like heavy. syrupy fog.

‘No.’ she reprimanded herself weakly ‘Dry clothes and warm blankets first. No sleeping. Not yet.’

Anais dragged her way over to a nearby tree, taking care to stay well out of rolling distance of the ravine, and sluggishly set about peeling off all her soaking, completely wrecked clothing, plopping them unceremoniously into the dirt. She unzipped her bag, thanking her lucky stars she had decided to go with this one -as it was lines in waterproof material- instead of the travel backpack sitting untouched back in her room, and fished out a new dry set of underwear, socks, and sweatpants as well as a t-shirt, and a thick sweater, pulling them over her chilling skin eagerly before carelessly snatching her fuzzy blanket out of the lower depths of the duffel bag, paying no mind to the various objects she sent spilling out of it as a result. Zipping the pack back up after sloppily shoving everything back inside Anais propped it up against her chosen tree and, much as she did in the car, fashioned it into a pillow to bridge against the too cool bark and conserve as much heat as possible when she wrapped herself up in her downy cloak. ‘Now.’ Her mind sighed in stark relief to the sweet, plush sense of warmth and safety as she let the fog finally take her. 'Now sleep.'

She was out in 2 seconds flat.