Terror Run...

Terror gripped the old brigands insides. His heart beat wildly as the Witch made him turn. Behind him, the burnt remains of his band lay on the ground. Burned and curled in obscenely unnatural ways.

The terror, clamping his insides, also held his mind in its fierce grip. Blinding him, hiding time; granting him brief glimpses of trees passing by as his body ran and his mouth screamed shivering madness.

Finally, body exhausted, Boris collapsed in the arms of an old oak tree where the madness left him. Leaving behind exhaustion that leaked the marrow from his bones, and mind.