Folliculitis
By: Frederick Kazar Evans - 2004
Running through the black forest, wielding my sword with its onyx handle and serrated edge slashing at the curling branches and vines. Speeding up slopes and stammering down the hills meticulously chopping away, only slicing the growth that stood in my path. The area that I had found myself in was beginning to become so entangled that cutting through was damn near impossible. Chopping and slashing, trying to clear enough away that I might maneuver through the unsightly growth. In the corner of my eye, something had moved; stopping for a moment to catch my breath I surveyed my surroundings when from behind I was grabbed by one of the vines that I had chopped. It was the root end that had come to life and was lifting me into the air and wrapping its self around my waist slowly making its way to my neck getting ever so tighter around me.
Suddenly, off in the distance I heard an awful sound that sent shivers through my body, and that was more terrifying than being crushed to death by the attacking plant. The sound grew closer as I struggled against the plant trying to free myself of its grip. Closer and closer the sound came, shaking the plant and I. The ground began to tremble and it seemed that the entire world started to lose focus. The plants vines had a firm grasp around my neck; all seemed lost. I struggled and pulled at the vines surrounding my throat tearing at it with my fingers and pulling until I was able to get them underneath, drawing the vines away from my neck in hopes of getting air, and still the ominous sound drew even closer as the seconds that seemed like years went by.
