The Vampire Cheetah (standard:adventure, 2896 words)
Author: SheilaLee	Added: Mar 13 2005	Views/Reads: 3320/2359	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A slave girl wants freedom at any price, or so she thinks.

Maryland 1853 

The young slave girl sprinted across her master's plantation in a burst
of speed. Long legs, strong hindquarters built for running, and leather 
feet grazing the ground, her springing steps lead her farther and 
farther away from her slave master. 

Dark clouds formed an unusual pattern in the sky. The night lingered
cold and damp. The slave ignored the sharp nasal calls of nighthawks 
and the stench of cows. She could not, however, ignore the voice. 

"Get back here, nigger!" His foul voice slapped her ears. "I'll cut dem
ugly legs right offa you." 

Her brown cheeks flushed dark with ire, sharp-sighted on her
destination. Her steps quickened. 

"Die, you devil!" she managed to say under her breath. 

The slave master was faster than the slave imagined. He trailed just a
few feet behind her. If he caught her, she would be severely punished, 
even if it meant her death. If she managed to outrun him, freedom would 
be waiting in the wind. 

The slave wanted freedom more than life. So she ran, wishing for death
if she were caught. 

Her heavy slave dress pulled against her. Blood ran out of fresh wounds
on her arms and legs. Her feeble body became a vessel of pain, but her 
spirit persisted, strong as an ox. 

With nothing but the glow from the full moon to light her path, she
stayed unwavering in her attempt to reach her destination. 

Her leg twitched. Her feet fell from underneath her, and her body
slammed onto the ground. 

Agony shot through the hands she used to break her fall. She wanted to
lie there and sob, but time wouldn't allow for it. She yanked her body 
up, spit the ground out of her mouth, and proceeded. 

Twigs snapped, and leaves crackled under her feet. Every step behind her
seemed louder and louder. She ran on as if the hand of God himself 
pushed her along. Bells of freedom rang through her head. She ran 
faster and faster, never looking back. 

After running a great distance, the voice and the footsteps behind her
faded. Her hiding place dangled in front of her like a gold metal. 
Victory promised to wet her lips when a huge figure appeared out of the 
shadows and sprang towards her. 

She came to an abrupt stop, almost falling back onto the ground. Bolts
of lighting shocked her flesh. She jerked her body in the other 
direction and made great efforts to run. A loud scream emerged from her 
lips. Two big hands grabbed her. Her feet fought against wind. She 
panted, twitched her body, and tried to catch her breath. Struggling to 
break free, she let out another terrified scream. 

"Let me go!" 

A cold hand covered her mouth, pressing her dry lips together. 

"Help me, and I will free you. Scream, and I will kill you," the man
said. 

Her wet tears gravitated to the cold hard hand, and it released her
mouth. 

"I need a place to hide," he whispered, pressing his could lips against
her ear. 

Weary and frightened, the slave led the man to her hiding place. 

Hidden, they stood in silence under a small wooden bridge. Tall, airy
trees hid the low bridge. Light sprinkles of rain tap-danced over their 


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