[The pack finally releases her limbs, but not without leaving several severe burns in the process.
This is only the beginning for Alex as the replica of Redacre remains in front of her.
Oh, and I forgot to mention, if she doesn’t move forward in a certain amount of+
-- panic, choking on the smoke that stung at her eyes as she froze yet again.
Redacre. Those familiar streets she had nightmares about so many times...
+the hound - creating a massive wall. This will prevent her from trying to run away.
The only way to go is forward and through the smoke, she’ll find herself in a familiar location.
Redacre.]
[I continue my speculation as my hounds, well, the dream manifestations of them, drag the helpless teen.
I know she doesn’t like fire… So when the hounds reach their destination, the pack leader sprints across from behind her, a trail of flames rise following+
-- trying to find something to hold onto as they dragged her swiftly deeper into the woods. They weren't trying to kill her... they were trying to /bring her somewhere/. And somehow that was even worse.
[That’s the funny thing about hellhounds… Their body temperatures can escalate to dramatic levels. It is seen within the gullet of the hound a faint flaming scarlet — which easily ends up roasting that end of the stick.
The others coordinate to grab the teenager by her legs+
Her leg ached fiercely, but she fought the pain as much as she could as she held that stick. As one lunged at her, she moved swiftly, trying to jam the stick down its throat to gag it, make it hurt...
That doesn’t matter, S. They don’t matter. In less than twelve hours, they will no longer be my problem.
I could go for a latte if you are suggesting it.
[The hounds are supposed to force her to run a certain distance… I didn’t expect her to trip and fall over.
Each of the black canines stop and surround the teen. One attempts to snatch the stick from her grasp with its powerful jaws.]
[Realistically, a mortal like her never could outrun them. They would tear her to shreds in the matter of seconds, but this is still a dream within her self conscious.
The hounds, in this case, are used to simply move her along to where I want her to go.]
-- could, bad leg screaming with protest. She was stumbling, slowing down... trying to find anything nearby she could use to protect herself with because she couldn't possibly outrun a pack of hounds...
[There is nowhere to go but forward. The trees will not save her from her inevitable fate, and I for one am enjoying the show.
Those thorns are going to leave a mark, even when she leaves this nightmare.
A fierce howl can be heard from the pack leader. They are gaining on her.]
She had jumped, starting to climb up one before she shouted in pain and dropped, feeling the stinging pain where thorns had pierced her gloves and jacket, drawing blood.
How the heck...?
Wincing, she scrambled to her feet, trying to run, unaware of how close the hounds were...