Wisconsin finally had snowfall on January 1st (yea, weird, I know) and I went out and took pictures of myself in said beautiful snow. I ended up posting some of them on DeviantArt (ikunihattori. Deviant art. com) and I put a description for one of them that I posted on my profile. Well, when all was said and done, said description was enough to inspire this little thing.

You can use your own imagination to wonder why she ran in the first place, and you can imagine what will happen afterward. Just remember, I support Bleedman. :)

Her breath caught as branches snagged her hair. She had grown it out, especially for him, but he hadn't seemed to notice. He was usually too busy to notice anything she did for him. But this time, he would have to pay attention. She was on his list, after all. She was supposed to be dead. When that mugger chose her as his next victim, he never expected to have her get back up after getting a bullet between the eyes. He also never expected to see Death when he came for her.

But her? When she saw him, she ran, continuing their long-standing game of him trying to catch her while she tried to catch his attention.

"This time," she muttered under her breath as she untangled her blonde locks from the trees. "This time he has to come after me." She touched the hole that was still in between her brows and felt the dried blood that had encrusted there.

An icy chill swept down her back. He was close.

She switched directions and started for the water that she knew was nearby. A thick root appeared out of nowhere and she stumbled. The bullet, which hadn't gone too far in, promptly sent shocks of pain to her mind as she slammed her head into the ground. Stunned, she rose to her feet and continued her flight.

The ice came back, and her eyes sought out a thorny bush. She dove under it, the furs from her top slightly snagging on the thorns before she hunkered down, pulling her black furs high around her neck to hide the pale light that her skin seemed to reflect from the sparse moonlight. He wouldn't be able to find her, and if he did, he wouldn't be able to come after her. Quickly, at least.

The ice seemed to encroach upon her senses, and she suddenly sniffed the air as the scent of Death drifted around her nostrils. He had found her.

She flattened herself to the ground just in time to avoid the swing of the scythe that cleared the air where her chest would have been, slicing through the briars with ease. Her blonde hair, a mere waif on the breeze, she shot up to run.

His bony fingers wrapped around her bicep, pulling her to him as his other hand captured her waist, his scythe effectively blocking her in.

"I don't tink you'll be going anywhere, Mandy," said his deep voice, his thick accent marring his speech. His aura was suffocating, his patience for this cat and mouse game coming to an end. His index finger traced the edge of her bullet wound, and a second later he drew his hand back with the bullet in his palm. Her own fingers came up to finger her wound to find her skin smooth and unmarred. She could only stare at him with wide eyes as she uttered his name.


I hope you enjoyed this. I don't know if I want to expand on this or not, but we'll see. I'm still working on Time Turners and Hippogriffs, and I'm starting some new projects in my crochet stuff. Oh! And I'm also going to be doing a photoshoot this up and coming Friday, so between all that and work, not a lot of writing will be getting done. :)

Review please, because I have Death and his Mistress on my side. :D