The Outstretched Hand

Another picture from Ermilia’s blog! This time the picture of an outstretched hand to get the creative ball rolling. Here’s my entry.

I raised my right hand tentatively, fingers flexed. I was breathing heavily, it was the only thing I could hear. Maybe he could hear it too. I hoped not. I wanted him to think I was strong. Slowly, my fingertips met his fingertips, already firmly in the air between us. Then our palms were touching. His hand was warm and steady against mine, cold and shaking. Partly from the autumn air but mostly from the fear of what we were about to do. He was pulling my hand down to my side, and my focus was dragged from our hands back into the woods. Back to his face. Those eyes. Mysterious eyes that I once mistook to be playful. Now I knew. It wasn’t cheeky frolic that lit up those blue stones. It was a pure, cold, ruthless hunger for power. And he had it right now, literally it was in his hand. I must have looked like a sad little rabbit, quivering as it was caught in its predator’s clutches.

“Ready to play?” he said in a low, taunting voice.

“Uh-huh” I stammered, amazed I hadn’t completely lost the ability to talk.

“Good” he replied, eyes narrowing and a small self-content smirk hinted across his lips. He never smiled anymore. “Now listen very careful to me Emily. You remember the rules I explained to you. Don’t you?” I nodded “You are going to run. You are going to hide. We are playing hide and seek Emily and I am going to find you.” He was going to find me. No matter where I ran, no matter which tree I hid behind. He had taken my mobile, blindfolded me on the car journey here. I had no clue where we were, no-one knew I was here. No-one would hear me cry out as he found me and killed me. Nobody knew we knew each other; he would walk around town unsuspected, unaccused. I was going to die and nobody was going to find out why.

He started to count down “3…2….1” He paused, my hand still locked in his vice-like grip. “Go. Run Emily. Hide.” My hand was set free. I ran. Faster than I’d ever run in my entire life. My life that was going to end right here in these woods. I considered the idea that he might not find me but I knew it was impossible. He was going to kill me as soon as he found me. Until then, I had to keep running…


8 thoughts on “The Outstretched Hand

  1. This is fun. I like how you don’t tell his name so we don’t know who he is either. It adds to the mystery of the face behind the hand. It’s cool that you went back through the older pictures. Some of them are amazing!

      • PIaW is awesome! I’ve done 18 of them. The most fun was December 11th where they posted a double-header and I used them both in the same story. I’m really excited to have another story writer there! If you like the weekly challenges, my friend Jason has been trying to get people to write to a random idea on Wednesdays. There’s a badge on my page. It’s not as much fun as the pictures, but his ideas have prompted some of the best stuff I’ve written. I’ve been all by my myself most weeks so it would be really cool if you joined.

  2. Oh, this was good. Interesting, I might add. There were some sentences that ran quite smoothly together.

    ““You are going to run. You are going to hide. We are playing hide and seek Emily and I am going to find you.” He was going to find me. No matter where I ran, no matter which tree I hid behind.” – Like this one.

    You build tension nicely, given the length of this story, but towards the end I sensed this sort of melodramatic, hopeless undertone that didn’t feel quite right. Yeah, I know what the story’s about, it just felt, dunno, rushed in a way.

    One suggestion for this. You know, one of the strongest instincts is that of self-preservation. I would have ended the story on a more ambiguous note; Emily wishing to outrun the guy, or maybe she just freezes. She can’t move, no matter how much she tries. Think about it.

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