In Hiding

The wind blew angry as the lone figure walked around the grave yard, armed with a rusty shovel and a dim, over sized, torch. He staggered past a large grave that had been withered by the weather over the years, making any fear touching it as it might disintegrate into dust. Behind it hid the person the figure was searching for, breathing in the crisp cold weather; she listened to the quiet thumping that came from the figures stagger. Soon it was silent.  She was scared, she wasn't ready for the fate this thing had in store for her. She needed to get away and she needed help, she needed to get away. She took a deep breath and decided that was her chance to run. And she took it without a second thought. All she knew was that she had to get away from that psychopath's before he was the last thing she saw on this planet.