Crime on the Moor

Dusk was falling. Blackened clouds stretched across the sky, casting a dark shadow over the world. Coils of mist danced like fire, writhing like snakes around her feet. Her frail body, that appeared so delicate and fragile, fought bitter against the cruel wind. With quivering fingers she pushed back a lock of hair from her white cheek. Stumbling along the rock strewn path she strained her eyes, trying to pick out the church tower from all the other shadows, hazy and indistinct. The wind stung her face and tugged at her flimsy clothes. She could hear the faint hum of the village in the distance and, yet again, searched the horizon for the prominent silhouette of the church tower.

She had lost her way over an hour ago when the mist rose, and had lost all sense of direction when darkness fell. She often walked on the moors, alone and free, laughing at the days that lay before her. But today she had come out later than usual and drifted into a world of solitary fantasy; gazing at a fiery splash of colour in the sky and watching it dissolve into nothing with a sinking, crimson globe. That was when the mist came, silent as the coming of spring that stayed only for a season then drifted to some other lonely abode. Panic didn’t set in at first but now she was beginning to feel uneasy and her heart beat faster at the sound of the wind, whistling through the heather, scattering the small stones at her feet. She quickened her step and continued, discovering paths she never even knew existed, travelling further and further from her invisible goal, deeper into the bleak night. The mist began to clear in places and as the clouds were ripped apart the silver rays of the moon cast an eerie light on the moor and inflicted a glow of terror in her tear filled eyes. Above her the sky was studded with stars, glinting at her through the windswept night.

She had been walking for ages and her feet ached with every step. She was cold and tired and longed to be back at home, dozing in front of the fire. She sank to the ground and huddled beneath an overhanging rock; shivering slightly as the wind pervaded the very core of her heart. Though its ferocious roar no longer echoed in her head and even appeared to calm down.

Having gained her strength she rose and her eyes settled on the path beneath her, uneven and muddy. As she was on the verge of resuming her eternal walk home she heard a noise in the distance and glancing hurriedly behind her, caught the glimpse of a figure emerging from the mist. As a sudden burst of terror subsided she considered accompanying the stranger to wherever fate might lead them but decided she felt safer alone. Hoping she had not been seen, she continued on.

As time passed she began to feel uneasy and stopped to gather her courage. She heard a footstep behind her, rustling the wind distorted heather. But the path she was treading was empty and she was alone. She carried on and once again heard breath like footsteps following those of her own. Walking faster than before she lost herself in the misty darkness of the night, silent and still. Behind her a careless foot scattered stones into the heather. She stopped suddenly and her head rang with deafening silence. She slowly looked around, her cheeks glistening with tears as she gazed upon bleak, empty landscape. In one panic stricken moment she froze and remained rooted to the spot. After what seemed like hours she shivered slightly and having decided it was only her imagination playing tricks with her, and set off again.

Although still shaky, gradually the cobwebs of fear were swept away and left lingering in the air behind her. In the stillness of the night she heard the distinct snap of a twig, shattering the tranquillity of her mind. In a frenzy of fear she blinded her vision with tears and threw herself on the ground, blocking out the sight of emptiness, hiding in the blackness. She heard someone walk past her and felt a shadow cast over her. She held her breath, afraid that the very beating of her heart would give her away. Slowly raising her eyes she saw the same dark figure become enveloped in the wispy mist. She rested her head on her arms and let out a sigh of relief. It was all over now. He was gone. For a moment she wanted to follow him, but her own fear forced to her to go in the opposite direction, back along the path that held scattered memories and unwanted vivid revivals of the barely forgotten past. Still walking fast and humming softly to herself she tried to banish the terror that still lingered in her mind. For a second she heard the rhythmic, fear evoking steps behind her. She increased her pace, as did her pursuer. She broke into a desperate run, followed by rippling peals of laughter.

She twisted her ankle on the rocky path, but hobbled on, never stopping to glance behind. She tripped and fell. Pulling herself up again she felt all her strength draining from her, but dragged herself on; gradually increasing her pace as the mild rest took its effect. She heard heavy breathing behind her, felt the warmth of it on her neck, tried to run faster but only seemed to get slower and slower. Her arm a jerked backwards and on turning she beheld a ghostly white face with dark, staring eyes and an evil smile. She trembled with fear and rubbed her aching shoulder. Seeing the glint of a blade in the dark she let out an ear piercing scream, but there were no ears for it to fall on; and as her plaintive cries were silenced a strip of light in the east cast a shadow of the church tower over her sleeping body.