Weak and broken, George stumbled on across the moor. The heavy mist that shrouded everything was a hindrance and a help – he couldn’t see where he was going, but neither could they find him.
He held onto his stomach where the blood flowed from the bullet wound. The hounds were getting closer again and he heard the distant horn call signalling that the hunt was on once more. He didn’t have enough energy for another chase.
Out of the mist the Lord’s country manor loomed. Servants who made it back would be spared – those were the rules of the game. No one had ever returned before.
George felt his legs go weak beneath him and stumbled over some roots. He felt the jagging prickles of a gorse bush slash at his skin as he fell to the ground. He heard the joyful whoops of the riders as they gathered round their prey.
*
At the front door of the manor, Samuel, the new House Boy, arrived to take up his new position.
Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story, in around 150 words based on the weekly photo prompt. For more information visit HERE.
To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
Iain Kelly 
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