The woods were silent as Detective Inspector Forester walked. It was a snowy evening in December, the sky was a light grey colour and reflections of the snow settled in the atmosphere. His boots compacted the snow beneath his feet, crackling quietly, as if he were stepping on ice. Forester looked around him, his eyes glinting in the sharp moonlight. To his left, he could see the dark woods covered in snow, the tall trees disappearing into the darkness; fading away. To his right the frozen lake. The white sheet of cold stretching as far as the eye could see. Behind him the footprints he had made walking here were just beginning to disappear with the heavy snowfall and ahead of him an old wooden farmhouse creaked. Unprepared for the freezing conditions, he cupped his ungloved hands around his nose and mouth in a vain attempt to warm them and then wrapped his arms around himself as his thin jacket was useless against the cold. What had possessed him to come out in the cold night? He stood still, the air unreasonably silent. Suddenly a scream rang out, a terrible shriek through the trees.

*

The young girl crept through the darkened woods, trying not to be seen. Her feet were bare, freezing in the snow. Her shoes had slipped off as she ran from her predator, leaving behind a trail wasn’t intentional as she didn’t want to be found. She shivered and tried to pull the sodden woolen cardigan around her body to warm herself. But it was useless; the snow was heavy and she was unable to fight off the cold. Suddenly she turned; she could hear his harsh harness bells ringing. She shuddered; the huntsman was catching up with her. She turned, her bright red hair swishing out behind her as she ran. She knew she wasn’t far from the farmhouse; the only safe place she knew.

‘Run rabbit run,’ a soft voice whispered through the trees. The red haired girl stopped, the cold wind eddying around her stationary figure. She shuddered as chills spread up her back. She could hear harness bells come to a stop. He was close; very close. She didn’t want to look behind and so staring ahead, she inched forward one step at a time. Squinting, she could see the dark outline of the farmhouse. She was close.

All of a sudden, a loud bang materialised behind her, shattering the silence in the cold air. She was disorientated and spun around. The huntsman was upon her. She tried to run, but slipped and fell. She scrabbled around on the floor trying to stand but suddenly a large hand grabbed her shoulder and wrenched her upright. The girl screamed, the high pitched shriek resonated and rang through the trees. She tried to protest, hitting out, flailing as she hung in the air like a rag doll. Her fist impacted with the huntsman’s bristled skin. He let out a cry and dropped her, and as the girl hit the floor, the wind was knocked out of her. She clutched her chest, struggling to breathe. She managed to stand, taking in a deep breath before stumbling towards the farmhouse.

The huntsman let out a loud roar and clasped his hands to his sore face where the girl had unexpectedly and fiercely punched him. Suddenly he realised that she had disappeared, lost from his grasp. He spun around looking for her, but she was nowhere to be seen. He noticed strands of hair wound round his fingers from where he had grabbed the girl. He uncoiled them, cupped them in his hands lifted them to his face and took in the scent of the girl. He felt the excitement of anticipation for the kill and started towards the farmhouse, putting the hair in his jacket pocket. It was the only place he knew the girl would be, all of them went there. The safe house, they called it. All of a sudden the distinct sound of a ringing phone could be heard. Someone was close. Someone was watching. Someone the huntsman neither expected nor wanted. He didn’t want an audience, so he unwillingly left the trail of the red haired girl and turning he walked towards the alien noise.

*

Forester jumped as his phone started to ring in his pocket. It was intrusively loud in the silence of the night. He clumsily pulled it out of his jacket pocket and saw that it was the station calling.

‘DI Forester,’ he answered. ‘Jane. No I’m fine. Just a personal errand. Yes, I’m sure. No need to worry. I won’t be long. I’ll call for back up if I need it. Yes. Okay, I’ll…’

Forester stopped talking. Forester could hear harness bells; he wasn’t alone. He could see a figure coming from the woods, appearing out of the darkness. The figure came closer. It was the huntsman. Forester took out his gun and aimed it at the huntsman. This didn’t stop him; the huntsman kept on walking towards Forester, staring at him, trying to unnerve the Detective Inspector. Forester however, was still. He stood in an authoritative stance, his breathing calm. He tightened and repositioned his grip on the gun as his hands began to shake slightly.

‘Why?’ He shouted out to the huntsman. ‘I need to know why. Tell me!’

Forester was obsessed with the huntsman cases. The beast only targeted red haired girls. Suddenly, Forester’s radio began to crackle with white noise. The huntsman chose his moment and started to charge Forester. Time seemed to stand still; Forester took careful aim; two shots rang out; the huntsman staggered with wounds to his shoulder and leg. The huntsman crumpled and fell to the floor. Forester did not hesitate, he holstered his gun and ran towards the farmhouse; knowing full well that he would find a red haired girl inside. Whether she would be alive he did not know. He prayed that she would be.

*

The girl shivered, hugging her knees. Her long red hair fell over her tear stained, downturned face. She was hidden in the farmhouse. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands together in prayer.

‘Lord,’ she whispered, ‘Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me… Amen.’

Suddenly, the door of the farmhouse banged shut. Someone was in there with her – the huntsman. She heard him lock the door behind him. Heavy footsteps started to head towards her through the house, she jumped up and looked around wildly for something to defend herself, something to use to attack the intruder in this safe place. There was nothing. The rooms were bare. Eventually she noticed part of a floorboard was different from the rest, it was warped and sticking up. The girl frantically scrabbled on the wooden floor, trying to pull the floorboard up. With a loud crack it lifted out of the floor. The girl held it in her bleeding hands and hid waiting; trembling.

*

Forester pushed the heavy door of the farmhouse open and stepping inside secured it behind him. He tried to lightly walk across the wooden floor but his heavy steel-toe capped boots made this a difficult. Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the farmhouse. Forester headed in the direction the noise had come from. Creeping through a doorway, he noted that part of the floor had been pulled up and stepping a little further into the room he halted in fear and trepidation as he recognised blood smeared on the floor. Without warning he felt a heavy object hit him on the back of his head. As he fell, he spun around to see the horrified face of a red haired girl as she dropped the floorboard that she had just hit him with.

‘Amy?’ he asked mumbled, confused, before he blacked out and crumpled to the floor.

*

The red haired girl stood in shock at the man she just attacked, who was now collapsed and unconscious on the farmhouse floor.

‘Dad? Dad!’ Amy sobbed. She had just attacked the one person in the world she knew could have saved her. But it was too late. Amy fell to the floor next to her father and threw her arms around him with a cry.

‘I’m so sorry, Dad. I was so scared. I’m sorry. Please Daddy, please wake up…’ Amy whimpered. She noticed a crackle coming from a radio attached to her dad’s belt. Hastily she picked it up and spoke into it.

‘Hello? Is anyone there?’

‘Forester, we…back up…gun shots…the huntsman case.’ The person on the other end of the radio kept breaking up. Amy knew she didn’t have much time.

‘This is Amy, Forester’s daughter. We are in the farmhouse in the woods out of town. There’s a man trying to kill me. My dad is unconscious. Please come quickly.’ The radio went silent. No white noise, no crackles. Amy just hoped that the message had got through. She took her dad’s hand in hers for comfort but suddenly in the silence, Amy heard the huntsman’s harness bells coming closer.

‘Dad, please Dad. You have to wake up.’ She whispered frantically in her father’s ear. ‘Please…’ The red haired girl could hear the huntsman coming closer, bearing down on her. She held her breath and tried not to make a sound, holding onto the hand of the person who could have saved her.  She was alone; she was helpless: she was just the rabbit, running from the fox who had finally tracked her down.