Two Lost Souls - Chapter Two

[Chapter One HERE]

To watch the horse spring towards the river's jumping bank was a bonus for Rori. Her perch atop the bridge was the perfect place to see the pair navigate the course's water jump. What a fitting way to start the work week at Karst College Stables.

She’d read about the cross country course online. It boasted nearly two dozen jumps stretched over four miles. The course was newly opened to the public. More than just the students could enjoy its challenges now.

The horse and rider took off to clear the wall of the bank, a mix of grace and power.

A loud snap rang out, then a hesitation.

Something was wrong.

From behind, an unnatural restraint gripped the horse's back left fetlock, the ankle. It hamstrung his twelve hundred pounds of power in place like a calf roped by one leg. The falling weight of the struggling animal split from his rider; as he fell into the rippling pool below, she careened into the edge of the bank. The rider's helmet cracked against stone, leaving her body limp and crumpled atop the dirt pad.

Amid cries for 911, Rori scrambled through crowds of gasping students who gathered at the bridge's ledge, then slid down the river bank towards the wreck. Her boots filled with water with each step taken. Sloshing. Cold.

Rori knew as she approached the jump that two souls would be lost that day. There was no hope for life. Her eyes took sight of the rider’s angled neck and the unnatural turn of the floundering horse’s back leg, snapped by the wire constricting it.

A student with a large instrument case slung over his shoulder followed Rori, and knelt beside the rider, face stricken with terror. His eyes met hers in a moment of united grief.

Rori looked down at the horse, determined to ease his suffering until a vet could get there to put him down. Or someone with a gun. Anything to end his pain.

She knelt on his neck – a trick learned from her last job. Her knees put pressure on the muscle below. A horse would often surrender to the thought of trying to struggle when held down in such a way.

The horse craned his head and looked at her before flopping back down on the river's sand, wide eyed, nostrils flared.

The student who followed chucked his cello case onto the bank and slid his hoodie off, throwing it quickly over the rider’s face and neck. He turned away from the fallen rider, hand over mouth, holding back vomit, then trudged through the water to Rori.

“What can I do?”

Rori looked to the horse's leg.

A thin fishing line was wrapped tight about its flesh. The other end was anchored somewhere beneath the water; it grew murky with swirling sediment and blood.

She felt the heat of tears rising. A heavy gulp of adrenaline shook her voice out of silence, “See if you can loosen the pull of the line.”

He shifted towards the horse’s haunch and gently ran his hand down the string, then into the water. Elbow deep at first, his eyes widened with each gained inch.

“It’s everywhere.” He felt around. “There’s wire crisscrossing everywhere in there.”

The horse let out a few kicks.

Tears streamed down Rori’s face and into the water where she knelt. She pulled her scarf off and made a makeshift blindfold for the creature, shielding his eyes from the chaos.

Where were the campus police? Panic rose within.

The man grappling with the wire struggled, then shouted, “Got it!”

A wire wrapped log came up through the water. He leaned back and put all his weight into dragging the tangle towards the bank. The grip of the wire on the mangled leg loosened.

A loud grunt then heavy sigh fell from the animal’s mouth.

The wire wrapped log and the man who retrieved it leaned against the incline of the river. He exhaled loudly then declared, “This is just going to keep happening isn’t it?”

Rori shrugged, hands cupping the horse’s head, tears falling over a blank face.

“The Hatts need to stop this!” he yelled into the fog. “People’s lives aren’t games to play.” He muttered before he hung his head between his legs, shaking, then went quiet.

Rori didn’t register his words. Adrenaline made her ears ring instead. Its pulse dulled the cold of the water, too. She stroked the neck of the shivering horse beneath her, muttering over and over again that everything would be okay.

A fuzzy ear swiveled towards her voice.

She knew the gentle giant didn’t understand what she was saying, but she felt guilty lying, so stopped trying to speak.

As the whine of sirens grew, so did her anger: Anger at the students snapping photos and shouting about a curse, anger at the missing campus police but, mostly anger towards whatever monster tied fishing line beneath the river's waters.

Besides the adrenaline, anger was all Rori could feel.

-Elle M. Athens (C) 2025