The Beginning of a Story

         The early morning sun shines through the leaves, casting patterns of shadows on the forest ground. Birds chatter, swooping through and between the branches, knowing only their world and not caring for anyone else's. Bugs and ants crawl, but don't notice the figure they detour around.
         The air is chilly, causing the man's breath to come out in small puffs of clouds. The sweat dripping off his forehead turns cold and soon the man is frozen, not able to run on.
         The figure leans against a tree and bends over, hands on his knees and head bowed. He stays there for minutes, allowing his breathing to return to normal. Then the man regains his posture and digs through his pocket for his treasure. The reason for everything.
         It is a golden locket. Rubies and sapphires line the outside. But nobody knows what lies within.
         The man's hand is shaking, some because of the cold but mostly because he is afraid. There was an ancient power in this locket. Something that has been hidden from Man for a good reason. And he was about to open it and let it out.
         SNAP!
         The figure whirls around, dropping his precious locket onto the ground below. It becomes hidden by the fallen leaves. He looks around.
         "Who's there?" A cloud passes over the sun, making the forest look dark and haunted. Another snap, to the side of him. One from behind. He was surrounded by whoever or whatever it was.
         "No! You can't have it!" He dives to the ground and digs through the leaves, searching for his lost treasure, "It's mine, it's mine. It's---" He pauses, hearing footsteps. A shadow looms over him. He knew who it was even before he saw his face.
         It's Murphy. The youngest son of...The man shudders...him.
         The man slowly looks up, taking in both his expensive outfit and his face. Black, shiny dress shoes, black pants, a perfectly clean white shirt and a black tie. Murphy was also wearing a swirling black trench coat, one that seemed to move with an invisible wind. It was the trench coat. The one that means...death.
         His handsome face is red with rage. His black hair, curling at the end, was too dark compared to his light brown eyes,which glowed with an angry fire.