Flash Fiction Friday: Running from Nightmares

Today's story takes us back to the Myth and Science Universe around about eight hundred years before the events of "The Accord is Struck," fae realm time. But, as always, you don't have to have read the other stories in the series to understand this one.

Running from Nightmares
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The air tasted like dust, and her feet were killing her. Still Mab ran down the dark corridor, chasing the pale ball of light she’d conjured to show the way, as fast as her tiny legs could carry her. It darted right, and she skidded around the corner after it.

She hoped it wasn’t leading her in circles. How many times had she turned right without a change? She couldn’t remember.

Mab’s heart was beating so loud, it sounded like drums, and her lungs were beginning to burn as badly as her feet. There wasn’t much she wanted more at the moment than to sit down and rest, but getting home to Mama and Papa was all she’d wanted for weeks.

That and to get away from the hateful man who’d taken her away from them. It’s why she’d stayed as quiet as a whisp until the others had forgotten she was there. Then she studied as they’d cast their spells until she was able to produce her own guide. Mama’d never let her play with magic, saying she’d have to wait until she was older, but Mab thought Mama would forgive her for breaking the rules if it helped her get home.

If not, well, she’d rather take a whooping than some of the things she’d heard the others whispering about. The memory of some of them sent a shiver down her spine.

The baying of a barghest echoed in the tunnel. Mab whipped her head around to look behind. Her hair got all in her eyes, and she tripped over a stone she didn’t see because she wasn’t looking where she was running anymore.

She landed on her side hard enough to knock the breath out of her. Hot tears streaked down her cheeks, but she didn’t dare cry out even though her side ached as she pushed herself up off the dusty stone floor. Her feet burned and throbbed inside the tattered remains of the flimsy cloth shoes she’d been given to wear. 

She couldn’t ignore it as well as she was even just a few minutes ago, and she limped as she started back down the twisting halls. Mab wiped a hand over her face, trying to stem the tears enough to see as she desperately tried to catch back up with the little yellow ball of light. It’d gotten so far ahead when she fell, she could just barely see its glow speeding around the next corner.

The barghest howled.

It sounded so close! Mab gasped and sobbed, pushing her legs to go faster despite how raw her feet felt in shoes that were suspiciously wet. Her breath came in ragged pants, and the ache in her side was fast becoming a stabbing pain as she ran.

She thought she might hear something big getting closer, but after what happened last time, she was too afraid to look back. If the barghest didn’t eat her up, the man would make sure she’d never get another chance to run if she was caught. Following the light and getting back to Mama and Papa was her only hope. She just had to keep running.

Mab chased the guiding light around another turn, and her heart leapt to feel a breeze blow over her. A breeze meant outside. Outside meant she’d gotten out of the castle!

The barghest howled again. The sound of it echoed off the walls and rang in her ears. Mab didn’t look back, but she knew it couldn’t be far behind her.

She dashed more tears from her eyes, clearing her vision in time to see something move in the light of her guide up ahead. The glow flashed off sharp teeth and reflected in the cold eyes of a big, black hound peering down into the tunnel as it exited the tor.

Yelping even as she choked back more sobs, Mab dodged away as she tore out of the tunnel. She slipped on wet leaves, but something caught her by the scruff of her dress before she could tumble to the ground again.

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Each story in this series is 700 words or less and is prompted by a first line taken either from a random first prompt like this one or reader suggestions like "Don't Forget Me" and "Culture Shock." I much prefer working from reader suggestions over generators, but to do that, I need to hear from you.

If you have a prompt you'd like to see done, comment below or Tweet it at me. I'll screen shot it, write it, and post it for you.