The wind that howls

Trigger warning: Descriptive gore.

The thunder boomed through the sky, shaking the ground as it rang out, making my ears ring, and my vision shake. I felt the icy cold rain smacking down onto my face, like cold hard pebbles, freezing me to the bone.

The wind making the trees bend under the intense speed, nearly blowing me off my feet and cutting right through my clothes, stabbing into my skin. I heard the wind howl in anger, as the trees groaned, the leaves rustled in the night.

My tent had blown away mere minutes ago, and I was already completely drenched in the icy water, teeth already chattering as I looked around, for any sign of hope. I looked for the path I had walked down to get here, seeing none. Everything around me excessively muddy, and impossible to retrace.

I decided to run in a random direction, the crescent moon granting very little light to guide my way. My thin jacket now heavy with water, and sticking to my body, leeching the little warmth I had left, yet keeping the wind half as bad, I kept it on.

Running through tree branches, getting scratched, I called out for help, the howling wind making me seem like a faint whisper even in my own ears. After what felt like 20 minutes, I saw a shimmer of metal.

Except it wasn't my car, I felt an intense urge to drop low, and so I dived into the ground, falling onto a string, and hearing a gunshot once I slammed into the ground. I felt something stab into my right shoulder, and making me bleed immediately.

When I looked up, I saw the shape of a shotgun, I stood up slowly, seeing that it was propped up, and not held. I took a careful step forward, the wind still howling heavily, the rain only pouring harder as time went on.

I saw a light, behind a tree. I looked at it seeing a house. Suddenly, I felt my hair feel weird, as if it were trying to stand on end. I sprinted towards the house, trying desperately to run under it somehow.

I heard, and felt thunder boom right behind me. My body erupted in pain, a tingly pain, like one of those gag electric pens, but 100 times worse, and throughout my entire body. I fell to the ground, everything going silent, my ears ringing loudly, my head swimming, my vision darkening around the edges, my body felt as though it were made of lead.

I got to my hands and knees, my balance off, the ringing not fading, my vision still dark, and shaky. I tried to stand up, and failed, quickly falling back onto my hands. I couldn't feel the rain anymore, just the feeling of the ground below me, the cold, my head felt foggy, like I wasn't really there.

After what felt like an eternity, everything snapped back, the icy stabbing, my shoulder throbbing, my ears ringing, the sound of the pouring rain, the wind, everything back all at once, I stood up, my entire body still tingly. I ran up to the door of the house.

I pounded my fist against it, trying to be louder than the storm, I slammed my fist into the door 5 times, waited for 20 seconds then repeated. After the third time, I began to just slam my fist into the door repeatedly, for 30 seconds until suddenly the door swung open. revealing a gruff old man.

He was wearing a thick, yellow brown plaid jacket, and thick jeans. His eyes were half open, and his thick grey hair was beginning to recede. He took one look at me, and then grabbed me by the collar, throwing me into his home.

He slammed the door closed, turning to me, looking at me with cold calculating dull green eyes, "Why the fuck are ye pounding on me door?" He had a thick Scottish accent that was gruff, and gravely.

I had fallen onto his floor looking up at him, I stood up and spoke, "Sir, I am so sorry, my tent flew away, I just needed somewhere to go!" He didn't respond, but looked at my shoulder, "Is that a hole in ye shoulder, lad?" I paused for a moment, before remembering that I had been shot.

"Yeah, there was a trap, with a shotgun." He walked towards me, his heavy body making the wood thud beneath him, "Now how did ye survive that, lad?" He had a pause between his words, and the name lad.

"I saw the metal shimmer, and I just, dived down. I-" He cut me off, "Aye, so it be my rival. He has gone too far with this one." I stood there, confused, and befuddled, "What?" I asked, the question sudden, and piercing, "Ye heard me, lad."

I just stood there, soaked, dripping onto his floor, "Alright, lad, you're gonna stay by the fire now. I had some extra clothes, but I was robbed not long ago." I nodded, and began walking to the fire.

"Take yer jacket off, it's only makin ye colder. Just put it on the hook in front of the fire." I did what he said, and got close to the fire. The wind howling. It seemed as if it was still getting louder. The windows rattled under the intensity of it, "You're awfully brave, lad, entering a strangers home like this."

There was a darker tone to his voice now, almost malicious. I turned around, seeing him at the other side of the room, holding a knife, his face still, "You never know who they might be." His words became more, enunciated, more precise.

I realized, this was no friend. This man was a threat to me, so I stood up, "I think I'll be going, sir." The man shook his head, "Not without this, ye aren't." He walked towards me suddenly, pulling a relvolver out of his pocket.

He got to me, pressing the knife into my neck, "Ye tell, Margot, to keep his dirty hands off my money." I stood there, frozen, and confused. Only then did he yank his knife away, "Aw shite! Ye really aren't one of em, are ye?"

I was frozen, "One of who?" He shook his head, "Neva mind, lad. I know ye's good." He shoved the revolver into my hands, "I don't think this night will be one that is spent alone." I realized, he meant that whoever his, "Rival" is, was probably gonna make an appearance tonight.

"I apolergize for the threat, lad. I never meant to scur ye." I shook my head, "No it's alright, I get it. If he set that trap up. Hold on, let me grab the shotgun, it wasn't too fa-" He cut me off with a boom, "No! You cannot go out now. He is bound to be near." As if right on cue, the front door swung open, and there stood a man, even bigger, and gruffer looking than this one.

"Hello, Brodey. Long time no see." His voice was a lighter pitch than Brodey's, but filled with a malice, and poison, "Who are you?" I spoke, and the man looked at me, "Oh, who's this little boy? My names, Margot." He grinned in a way that felt dangerous.

I gripped my revolver tightly, "Alright, lad, get ready to run." I felt uneasy, and it was clear he did too. I pointed the gun at Margot, "Oh, the little boy seems so brave! Too bad you don't have the guts to pull the trigger." I knew he was trying to play mind games.

But, somehow, it worked. I felt myself freeze, "Pathetic, Brodey, how do you expect to beat me if you can't even train someone right?" I spoke, "I just came here, because of the storm."

Brodey grabbed his axe, and chuckled, "Pull that trigger lad, kill this maniac." I saw his eyes shimmer with something, almost as if he was enjoying this.

I pulled the trigger, the room rang out with an ear-ringing bang. and Margot's eyes widened, as his chest began to pour with blood, He began to cackle, "Again, lad!" I fired again, my ears ringing deafeningly. Margot only cackled, and brodey swung his axe into Margots head.

The axe split his skull in half. Making him drop to the floor. Brodey sighed, as if sad, "Sorry ye had to be apart of that, lad." He began to say something when thunder struck his roof, making a massive hole, and sending wood down on top of us.

Everything went black, But when I woke up, I was shivering, the storm having only been getting worse. Brodey was dead, a piece of wood having crushed his chest. His dull green eyes were glossed over. I shoved pieces of wood off of me, feeling my shoulder throb in pain, my chest as well, along with a stabbing pain in my stomach. I looked down and saw blood, the water making it seem really bad.

I got up, and saw the piece of metal stuck in my abdomen. I looked around, seeing darkness. I knelt down, grabbed my revolver, and felt my stomach feel as though it was being sliced from the inside. I looked at the wound. I knew the chances of survival were low, but if I bled internally, it would be even lower.

I grabbed the sharp piece of metal, and pulled it out slowly, feeling it cut slightly as it moved. Thankfully it was only 2 inches deep, and might not of hit anything vital. But I was bleeding, heavily. I grabbed my sleeve, and tore it off.

I bunched it up, and shoved it into my wound, crying out in pain as I did so. After that, I walked outside. The wind howling louder, the trees swaying further, the rain feeling like rocks slamming into me. I looked around, seeing nothing, knowing this storm was far from over.

Thunder boomed through the sky, making my ears ring louder once more. I ran forward, the opposite way I had come. I ran until I hit the clearing I had camped at, and then kept going.

Suddenly, I stepped on something, that gave way for a single instant, and before I knew it, my leg was being crushed, and stabbed. I looked down, screaming, seeing my leg having been shattered, seeing blood start to drip.

I knelt down, and pried it off of me, seeing my bones sticking out of my skin, and seeing the empty space where there used to be shin. I knew that if I tried to walk on that, the pain might be so great I could pass out.

But already the pain was fading, only the cold made everything sting. I kept running limping on my left, soon I saw my car, limping, feeling the most pain of my life. I entered my car, grabbing my phone, which I had left in case the wind blew my tent away, or something bad had happened.

I called 911 immediately, but there wasn't any service. I felt my body growing weaker, knowing I had little time left, I turned my car on, and drove up the hill, at 40 miles an hour, my tires trying to skid, the wind trying to throw me. I got onto the freeway, and went 100 miles an hour.

I was driving recklessly, almost on purpose, when I saw the red and blue lights, I laughed. slowing down quickly, pulling over. The cops ran up, with a flashlight. I opened the car door, and Threw myself out, "Help!" I cried, and they saw my condition. Their jaws dropping.

Then a car hit theirs, faster than even I had been going. I rolled under my car, seeing the underside move quickly, and then it went dark. When I woke up, there was fire, the ground was wet, the wind was loud, and I lifted my head, seeing the cops, dead, I sat up seeing blood surround my entire body. I knew I was going to bleed out.

But I wanted to say one final thing. I dragged myself to one of the cops. I rifled through the pockets, and grabbed a little notepad. I grabbed a pen, I wrote on the cover with high pressure, "Read Me" I opened the notepad, my fingers beginning to lose feeling.

I wrote with my last bit of strength, I wrote down my wife's number, and wrote down a message, "My amazing wife, I know you are devastated, but I promise you. You can make it through this life. Take care of Bell for me. Tell her I still love her, every day. Please, and remember, I love you too."

Then everything went dark.