[M]The Twenty-Second Tale

The moon shone on the brittle snow beneath it. White. Only white could be seen. 

White and a stumbling figure that is. A small girl clutched her arm as she staggered on the frosty snow. 

Her feet fell down into the snow until it reached her shins. 

A deafening sound was heard from behind her then a voice spoke. "Hana! Where are you?" Hana's eyes widened as she heard the familiar voice. 

Her pace sped up. Tears rolling down her rosy red cheeks. She reeked of the metallic scent of blood. From the top of her arm down to her hand, she was covered in it. That red disgusting substance which stained ever so easily. 

The man behind here was coming closer and closer. "Hana! If you come out now them I won't do anything!" Another deafening bang. Hana's leg gave way. 

In the freezing cold snow, Hana looked down at her leg. Red; deep, dark red. It felt as if a flaming hot thread of barbwire was being pulled through her leg. She turned around. He was coming closer. 

No matter how much pain she was in—she had to keep going. Limping and still clutching her arm, she left a red trail in the vibrant white snow. 

It was impossible there was no way she could run anymore. He was less than a metre away from her. 

Hana's fragile body fell to the floor. There was no way out. He was there. She saw his feet in front of her face. Hana slowly closed her eyes. If this was the way she was going out, at least she tried to put up a fight. 

He cocked the gun. 

His finger gently on the trigger. 

He aimed. 

The sound of running footsteps. 

A loud bang. 

"No!!" A thud was heard next to Hana. She opened her eyes. 

Her eyes widened. "H-Hanbyul.." Smiling in front of Hana was her, now, dead brother.