Ashes

Clarice Newton woke up at four every morning to go running. She was a fitness junkie. She loved the mental and physical strain that came with running for hours. Her favourite route took her through the park and she sometimes cut through the trail and into the bushes. Her ear buds in and the music pumping, she pushed herself further into the woods. Clarice never thought anything of her early morning runs. The park was always empty at that time anyway. What she didn’t know was that for the past week she hadn’t been alone. The soft rustling of the leaves she dismissed as the wind was actually her stalker, the phoenix.

The phoenix watched as her as she cut through the bushes as she normally did. This time was different. It would be her last run. Clarice stopped to take a swig of her water bottle. Now would be the best chance.

The phoenix inched closer to her then with one swift movement leaped at her and slit her throat. Clarice slid to the ground clutching her throat, struggling to breathe. It was a matter of seconds before she blacked out blood draining from her lifeless form. Then she was stabbed her from behind.

She would be dead in minutes.

The phoenix towered above her, watching. Watching as she took her last few breaths, the sickening gurgling sound piercing the silence. The others hadn’t been like Clarice. There was no time to stop and observe. Stopping and observing.

It was empowering.