Rachel Zucker 12/11/07

Mrs. Smallper. 09

"…Our agent, your father, was assassinated. Your life is in much danger, child…"

The world was closing in upon him…

Voices were not heard… objects were blurred…he could not feel the Locket being pressed into his hand…all he could comprehend in those moments were the last words he had heard the Imperiate speak…suddenly he became very much aware of each and every breath, and how quickly they could stop altogether…

Thump- thump. Thump- thump. Thump- thump.

His heart stopped.

IT leaped out of nowhere, clearing 15 feet and landing right on top of him. They fell to the forest floor, and the breath was knocked out of his lungs. Gasping for air, he heard his arm snap, and a jolt of excruciating pain went through his body making his gasp and cry out. He kicked IT off, gritting his teeth and arching his back in the strain; ITs body weight was nearly double his own. Adrenaline and terror were on his side, and IT rolled off, trying to regain balance. He scrambled away, gasping, searching desperately for an escape route. Trying to outrun IT would be futile. He needed to use his size and intelligence to get away. His arm hanging uselessly at his side, he was forced to dive in between two narrow tree trunks as IT grabbed for his leg, gleaming, black, razor-sharp claws outstretched. IT held his ankle firmly, but he twisted, turning his body and flexing his leg so all IT got back was a shoe. He was back on both feet in an instant and sprinting away as fast as a seven-year old can run, despite the absence of one shoe and a broken arm. The ground was soft and wet, so his feet made little noise. He heard a sharp crack directly behind him, and a piece of tree trunk centimeters from his head exploded, sending splinters everywhere and nearly making him trip in shock. There were hundreds of tiny throbs in his broken arm; something was squeezing, wringing, and digging sharp points into his skin. His mind was a race of panicked images punctuated by pain, and his peripheral vision was a psychotic blur, though everything in front of him seemed to be in clear focus. He weaved a narrow, twisting, confusing path through the trees, hoping to lose IT. But he had a feeling IT would always know where he was. How else had IT known he was in the woods before, taking his daily hike, but striking out a new and unfamiliar path? He knew if he didn't shake IT off and escape, he would end up dead- just like his father.

He tried to calm his heart down by breathing deeper, still crashing through the woods. There was a terrible cramp under his ribs and he knew he couldn't keep up this pace too long. Only about thirty seconds had passed since the solitary gunshot, but he was still tensed up, waiting for another, almost wishing so that the pain from the cramp, the splinters, and his broken arm would go away. He could hear IT behind him, but the waves of pain might have been doing funny things to his mind. His feet seemed to be making so much noise when he ran through a pile of fallen leaves, stumbling from being overbalanced on the foot that still had a sneaker. He couldn't tell if the footsteps he heard behind him were his, or only just an echo. He forced himself to calm down and resist the urge to look back. He might lose his footing again, and then his life. But he couldn't just keep running. IT had a lot more endurance and stamina than he had. He wouldn't be able to outmatch IT physically-perhaps mentally…

He saw the stream before he heard the water, which was moving quickly over pebbles and rocks, more like a small narrow river than just a stream. IT would not be stopped by this, he knew, but he also knew IT had a fear of running water, just like all ITs kind. Maybe, just maybe, this would slow IT down, if IT was still following him. He leaped over the stream, barely making it in his exhaustion, and his legs buckled underneath him. His breath came out in the form of vomit, and all he could do was lie there, shaking and moaning. He glanced behind him…and IT wasn't there. He hoped IT wasn't just playing with him, but he let the thought creep into his mind that he had managed to confuse IT during his kamikaze run. IT wasn't that smart. A smile of relief broke across his small, dirtied face and he lay his head down on the pine-needled ground, his heart going twelve times faster than before. He let himself close his eyes as they welled up, and he gritted hi teeth and clenched his arm, still breathing hard.

Then there was a faint click. His eyes shot open as his stomach gave another nasty heave and a jolt of fear racked his spine.

"Little boy, little boy, you shouldn't have run," said an eerie voice in a crooning, yet spine-chilling tone. "Good thing you stopped or this wouldn't be fun…"

He peeked over his shoulder, still lying down and breathing hard, and looked into the black hole of a gun. His mind couldn't even send a fearful thought to his brain. He just couldn't move, for the moment paralyzed by his impending doom. Only two minutes before he had been calmly sauntering along…

"Had you kept running, you'd have soon been split in two," IT continued. "But now we'll play Russian roulette, except the odds are all against you…"

His eyes flickered to where he would have kept running if he hadn't tripped. In the trees, something silvery glinted. How had IT known he'd have run that way? Probably the same way IT had known he had been taking this route in the first place. The thought IT would always know where he was or where he was going made him sick. He couldn't reply, and IT jeered back, "You had no chance, you knew it along. Now you'll pay, death will play its"-

He shot out his foot knocking IT backwards. IT roared as he leaped away, ignoring the protests of his arm. He concentrated on the one thing he was sure of: his Locket. He knew the Locket had powers he could only dream of, but he barely knew how to control them. But of what he had been learning the past month after he had inherited the Locket from his father, he knew one use that could aid him now, not only in getting away himself, but also in protecting the Locket, which was what he was sure IT and ITs allies were after. That had to be it. From wherever IT came from, IT was ordered to steal the Locket, at whatever cost. IT didn't care if there was a seven-year-old boy in the way, having no conscience and showing no mercy. That had been what he had taught since he had gotten the Locket just a month ago, never even knowing anything about its existence before. Everything he learned, except how to use the Locket, had been very vague, but he was more than intelligent enough to put it all together. Maybe that was why they had chosen him to protect the Locket in the first place, despite him being the Imperiate's top agent's son.

Apparently the government didn't care if a seven-year-old was in the way with their plans either.

He fumbled with the tight chain around his neck, and felt the cold metal of the circular ornament in his hand. With one finger, he pushed down on the tiny button on its side and muttered, "Aberto". He heard a faint click, and he almost jumped, remembering the faint click of ITs gun. But the Locket opened, and he felt the power building up in hand, and in that instant all his exhaustion was gone, and all feelings of doubt dissipated. The power was a wave of heat that started at his toes and cloaked his body. He still wasn't used to it. But the power was coming too slowly. IT was suddenly right behind him, he must have slowed down without realizing it, and now IT had caught up. IT wrapped ITs long, scaly arms around his waist, but he was already running, dragging IT behind him as his momentum carried him forward, his legs turning over in a blur as the power of the Locket increased. The trees seemed to hurtle toward him as he sprinted away, matching a greyhound's speed. ITs hands slipped from his waist; just before that instant, he had heard a whistling sound and a strange thwack. He kept running, afraid to look back, but something in his merciful, conscience mind told him he had to. He stopped, as fast as he had started, feeling the power of the Locket simmering down quickly. About 100 yards away, through the trees, he could barely make out the stream. Being nearly sunset, it was getting dark, but this part of the forest wasn't as dense. But he didn't see IT. Nothing came to ambush him out of the trees. For a while, he enjoyed the calm moment, so different than the five minutes that had just passed.

Then, as he picked his way closer, he saw the blade. Catching the light as shining silver and piercing the ground, a rope attached the guillotine to the trees. There was a dark figure underneath it. A rasping voice floated toward him as IT opened ITs mouth, speaking his last words as he died under his own trap, felled by the power of the Locket.

"You will never be safe, not now and not then. We'll come back for you, we will meet again…"