This week’s photo prompt from Madison Woods’ Friday Fictioneers.
She stands at the crossroads, chewing her lip.
That path would bring safety sooner, but there are rumours; people disappearing, no traces found.
Whatever lurks in the forest gnaws at the scant reserves of her courage, but the memory of the tainted malevolence in pursuit overwhelms her.
“Screw it,” she yelps, plunging headlong through the trees, fending off thorny arms that reach out, seemingly whipping her legs into ever faster flight.
She emerges exhausted, ears still ringing with the petrifying screams of her pursuer, as all traces of his wickedness were obliterated from this earth.
Evil, it seems, prefers to feast on evil.