The Harpy

Every instinct and intuition awoke in Ly and she quickly opened her eyes to an eerie darkness. Her eyes adjusted with protest and a faint screech lingered in the high skies. She was laying in a bed of high grass as dead as the sense of safety right now.

The wind whipped across her face in sporadic gusts- pushing her body, slightly, to and fro. The silence was deafening, like two unforgiving hands pressing each side of her head together. She got to her feet, which were bare, and took a few steps into the grassland. The sound of grass beneath her feet was barely audible.

Where are my shoes?

A high shriek pierced the silence above her. A dark figure loomed in the sky, circling her with massive and powerful wings. Confusion and fear enveloped Ly and her feet faltered, tripping over one another as she began to run -heading anywhere but here. The figure lowered into view and Ly saw- with a gut-wrenching realization- what was hunting her. A massive harpy, half-bird half-woman, with blood-matted hair spilling over her bare chest. It's breasts sagged with age and horror; eyes red and bloodshot; mouth chapped with crusted blood and bile. The stench of the harpy wrapped itself around Ly who was still running, panting, heart beating like a ticking time bomb in it's final seconds. Don't stop. Don't slow down. She told herself.

One last glance behind her shows the cracked claw of the harpy outstretched inches from her head, it's mouth open and salivating.. Beneath her feet the surface of the earth changes into planks of wood. She bumps into a large, poorly crafted wooden table in the center of what looks like a little shack. The noise from outside ceases as the wooden door of the shack slams shut on it's own accord.

Gasping for breath, Ly grabs a handful of her shirt and falls to her knees with exhaustion and fear pounding in her veins. She notices something rough in her hand that holds her shirt, bundled, as if for comfort. There is a folded piece of paper in her hand..