More of my writing
The Far Side of Darkness
By: Robert Voorhees

The night is cold and the wind has a sharp chill to it. The stranger walks through the thorny brush; the thorns stab and prod at him. He simply ignores them and continues onward further and further, deeper and deeper into the forest he walks. Not knowing as to where he is going and not caring for the fact what he has done this night would be his undoing.

He is tall, heavy set, and limping as if injured. He carries with him only two things a shovel and the sack which he drags behind him. The sack make’s a slight scraping sound as it is pulled across the bare earth and stone path. A strange stain grows ever bigger as he walks further in “Dingâ��� a dull sound emanated as the shovel hits the ground. The man places the sack next to it picks, up the shovel and begins to dig a large hole, deeper and deeper he digs. Climbing out of the hole he places the dirtied shovel on the ground and reaches for the sack only to notice it’s empty. The only reminisce being the large stain on the bottom.

Suddenly a sound echo’s out from the forest, a shrill cry for help shatters the still calm of the night. “HELP ME SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME”. The man hears the shrill cry echo out through the woods, he mumbles under his breath “she can’t have gotten far”. The man look’s out, in the far distance he catches��s the figure of a young woman as she stumbles to make it to the crest of a hill. She is young seventeen or eighteen, she has brown hair and baby blue eyes; she struggles to make it over the hill as her leg is badly injured and bleeding profusely her face is as pale and white as flour, there is a small cut under her right eye and blood drips down from the left side of her mouth.

“SOMEONE PLEASE GOD HELP ME” the girls cry’s for help go unheard they are deadened by the dense forest and think brush, and as she struggles to make it over the hill crest she pants and cry’s saying to herself “why oh god, why did this have to happen to me”. “I see you there” a cold voice beckons to her piercing through the still air of the night like an assassin���s blade the voice is distant and quite; growing louder, too frightened to look back she hurry’s herself to the hill top. Looking down she sees nothing *sigh* a brief sense of relief flows over her although it is to be short lived. “I���m getting closer” the cold voice beckons to her once more now the voice is very close as though it were coming from behind her, although she can see nothing in the darkening night the only source of illumination being the light coming from the crescent moon which hangs high over head. The girl shouts into the night “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM ME? WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?”

Silence now; her shouted questions go unanswered as though unheard by all except the trees and the sharp wind that blows past. The stillness of the night has returned as though the man were never there ,as though this night had never come “is he gone” the girl whispers to herself *snap* *crack* the sounds of breaking twigs echo through the forest growing ever larger ever closer to her “oh god he’s coming”. Suddenly nothing the silent peace is once again restored, the quite permeates through the young girl delving into the deepest recesses of here soul filling here with freight she knows this silence is like that of a calm sea before a monstrous storm.

More of my writing
The Far Side of Darkness
By: Robert Voorhees

The night is cold and the wind has a sharp chill to it. The stranger walks through the thorny brush; the thorns stab and prod at him. He simply ignores them and continues onward further and further, deeper and deeper into the forest he walks. Not knowing as to where he is going and not caring for the fact what he has done this night would be his undoing.

He is tall, heavy set, and limping as if injured. He carries with him only two things a shovel and the sack which he drags behind him. The sack make’s a slight scraping sound as it is pulled across the bare earth and stone path. A strange stain grows ever bigger as he walks further in “Dingâ��� a dull sound emanated as the shovel hits the ground. The man places the sack next to it picks, up the shovel and begins to dig a large hole, deeper and deeper he digs. Climbing out of the hole he places the dirtied shovel on the ground and reaches for the sack only to notice it’s empty. The only reminisce being the large stain on the bottom.

Suddenly a sound echo’s out from the forest, a shrill cry for help shatters the still calm of the night. “HELP ME SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME”. The man hears the shrill cry echo out through the woods, he mumbles under his breath “she can’t have gotten far”. The man look’s out, in the far distance he catches��s the figure of a young woman as she stumbles to make it to the crest of a hill. She is young seventeen or eighteen, she has brown hair and baby blue eyes; she struggles to make it over the hill as her leg is badly injured and bleeding profusely her face is as pale and white as flour, there is a small cut under her right eye and blood drips down from the left side of her mouth.

“SOMEONE PLEASE GOD HELP ME” the girls cry’s for help go unheard they are deadened by the dense forest and think brush, and as she struggles to make it over the hill crest she pants and cry’s saying to herself “why oh god, why did this have to happen to me”. “I see you there” a cold voice beckons to her piercing through the still air of the night like an assassin���s blade the voice is distant and quite; growing louder, too frightened to look back she hurry’s herself to the hill top. Looking down she sees nothing *sigh* a brief sense of relief flows over her although it is to be short lived. “I���m getting closer” the cold voice beckons to her once more now the voice is very close as though it were coming from behind her, although she can see nothing in the darkening night the only source of illumination being the light coming from the crescent moon which hangs high over head. The girl shouts into the night “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM ME? WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?”

Silence now; her shouted questions go unanswered as though unheard by all except the trees and the sharp wind that blows past. The stillness of the night has returned as though the man were never there ,as though this night had never come “is he gone” the girl whispers to herself *snap* *crack* the sounds of breaking twigs echo through the forest growing ever larger ever closer to her “oh god he’s coming”. Suddenly nothing the silent peace is once again restored, the quite permeates through the young girl delving into the deepest recesses of here soul filling here with freight she knows this silence is like that of a calm sea before a monstrous storm.