Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-28420405-20160509180152

The air was especially cold that night. The air was almost painful to inhale. An exhale produced a white puff of heat, like smoke rising from a chimney. It wasn’t quite winter, but the temperatures outside could have fooled anyone. The grass and leaves crunched beneath Fiona’s feet and she strode down the path that cut through the forest. It was a ritual she had taken up five years ago when her brother disappeared.

During the days, she never left their family’s shop. Her parents had opened a modest shop to sell the extra tools they had brought with when they moved from the city to the small forest town. The family owned an armory, but their stock always included more than tools of war. There were spades, rakes, and other farming tools as well. They were an important shop for their small town, travelers and locals alike depended on their wares to survive the surrounding forest. After establishing the shop, her parents would often travel to nearby towns in their wagon to obtain new supplies while Fiona and Frederick minded the counter. Ten years ago, when both of the children were still young, their parents had an accident while acquiring new supplies. Fiona and Frederick took it upon themselves to watch the shop in their parent’s stead. The shop was important to the village, and it was important to their family. It was the happiest place Fiona could think of, even after her parent’s accident. Fiona and Frederick worked hard to keep the shop running, and they soon became known to all the village as the reliable siblings. However, all that happiness disappeared with her brother in the forest. Even still, Fiona kept the shop open, determined to keep her family’s legacy alive. And while Fiona’s depressed demeanor was not particularly pleasing to customers, she always had a full stock and never gave incorrect change. They understood her plight. She was responsible and relied upon by the village – but all that responsibility was not enough to keep her brother safe those years ago.

Fiona and her brother, Frederick, were very close. They were just a year a part in age, Frederick being younger. They both had striking features. They shared their mother’s deep auburn hair; their eyes were a light green hazel. They were often mistaken for twins, but Fiona’s hair was much longer than her brother’s. When the pair were still together, Fiona’s smile would brighten up even the darkest shadows of the forest. She was coveted among the young male villagers, but her brother usually kept the suitors at bay. After he disappeared, and her smile with him, whispers began circling the village. At first the rumors were just about her change in disposition – the once smiling beauty who radiated the forest settling was dimmed by depression. The stress of running the store alone clearly took its toll on Fiona, or at least that was what was assumed.

There was another rumor that swirled about the settlement. A strange tale of a tall dark figure who haunted the forest. The figure was blamed for any tragedy that struck the town. Crops withering, wells drying, children falling ill – it was all blamed on the forest creature. The only tragedies not blamed on the figure were the accidents that befell Fiona and her family. There was talk of the figure being an angry forest sage, or a spy from the capital who was trying to figure new ways to tax the already struggling town. It was a ghost, a goblin, a boogeyman who would scare naughty children. The rumor began to take on a life of its own. The figure was described as a tall slender man with piercing green eyes, but no other distinguishing characteristics were ever brought to light. Because the appearance of this forest dweller was such a mystery, the village began warping the rumor to suit their own needs, just like any urban legend. And just like any legend or lore, the people of the village held fiercely in their beliefs. Occasionally villagers would form small groups to search the forest after tragedy struck in hopes of finding the creature and ending his reign of terror on the town.

Fiona would listen to the villagers as their hushed whispers filled the shop. A man, the local vegetable farmer, was holding a spade in his hands and talking with another customer. He spoke of how he saw the figure, cloaked in darkness but clearly moving between the trees of the forest. Much like the others, the only description he had to offer was a tall man with green eyes, eyes that seemed to cut through the shadows of the trees at night. He leaned in close to the other customer, whispering under his breath: “It’s funny isn’t it, how these rumors started after Frederick disappeared?”

The other customer quickly glanced at Fiona from the corner of their eye, her usually depressed face grew stormy. They were too afraid to reply; they worried if they said the wrong thing that Fiona may refuse them service, or worse, fly into a rage. Just when the customer thought the farmer would be scolded and kicked out, Fiona’s expression reverted. Fiona’s anger, almost palpable, was fleeting.

The farmer hadn’t noticed what had happened. He strolled to the counter and placed the spade on the counter before pulling out his coin purse. “Another outstanding product, Fiona. We really are grateful to have you here. It’s a shame what happened…” He stopped fishing for his coins for a moment, realizing what he said. His voice trailed. No one had mentioned the tragedies for some time, but seeing the figure in the forest reminded him of Fiona’s struggles. He thought he had offended her, or ripped a bandage from a metaphorical wound, but her expression was the same as it had been for years. He thought nothing of it as she handed him his change.

“See you again soon, then, Fiona…” He took his change and left the store, without a word escaping Fiona’s frowning face.

As the sun set, Fiona locked up the store. She would begin her nightly routine shortly. She counted the change, locked the front door of the store, and turned down the oil lanterns that hung around the shop. As she exited through the back door, she turned again to lock the back. She sighed before slinging her bag over her shoulder. The back of the shop opened to a small path. This path winded up a hill where the family home was located. The path was heavily trodden, the footsteps of her family had created this path. It was not formally put in, but the hard work and constant walking between the two buildings formed a natural path back to the house. She absentmindedly walked to the home. She opened the door and sighed heavily before setting the pack on the floor by the door. The change jingled. A few items she had brought back to the house to be cleaned gave a loud clank as the bag fell. She looked around. The table was set as it had been five years ago, except the dinner was now long gone. Much of the small cottage was untouched after Frederick’s disappearance. It was just too much to keep up with, or at least that’s what she told herself. In reality, Fiona just wanted to keep the memories alive. She tried hard not to wallow in the absence of her family. Instead, she took action. Each night since his disappearance she wandered the forest, looking for Frederick.

The rumors of the creature never scared her. She was in the forest every night, and never saw another human, let alone a creeping creature with green eyes. She believed the stories were just made up by some tired mother, too fed up to discipline her children, to scare them into staying inside after bed. The rumors just grew thanks to bored gossipers, and Fiona would not take part in gossip. Besides, she had more important things to worry about. Her family was gone. She was alone. She needed to survive.

Each night, Fiona would unpack her bag from the store. She would load it back up with canteens of water, a small loaf of bread, some vegetables, and an empty lantern. She would also put a small amount of oil and a flint in her outer pockets, just in case she needed a light. She never needed the light. After years of searching the shadowed forest, she was quite adept at seeing in the dark. Once she was packed, she would head out the door and into the edge of the forest by the cottage.

Her journeys into the darkness had only one objective: find Frederick. The guilt of being separated that night years ago and losing him was heavy on her heart. She would not stop until she found him, dead or alive. She knew the former was probably more likely, but her hope to find him alive was what kept her going. Her footsteps were light. After five years of traveling the forest at night she learned to keep her footing quiet. She knew not to disturb hunting predators. A run in with a wolf pack a few years back had taught her the hard way to stay as silent as possible. They had cornered her, and if it hadn’t been for the bright light of her lantern, she wouldn’t be around to continue her search today.

This night was no different from the rest. Her steps would occasionally snap a twig, and she would stand still for a moment to make sure she was not heard. Besides avoiding the forest predators, her cautiousness served to help her find her brother. She was worried he did not want to be found by now, and if he saw her she knew he would run. She wanted to element of surprise on her side for the search. As she roamed through the trees, the wind gently rustled the leaves. The moonlight filtered down to the forest floor and painted a pale, dark landscape before her. The underbrush rustled. It was as if the forest was breathing – hushed exhales that chilled her. The air was cold, and stung her lungs as she wandered. She worried her steamy breath would give away her location, but the nightly shadows swallowed up her breaths as they escaped her lips.

A light padding sound came from behind her. Her pulse quickened and she held her breath. She was sure that wolves must be close. The memory of her last encounter with a pack, snarling and hungry, filled her head. She shuddered, and held her ground. She listened closely as the padding sound began fill her left ear. Clearly the pack must have sensed her and rerouted their course to avoid her. She knew that wolves usually did not attack unless provoked or starved, and the hearty forest provided plenty of food for the pack. After a few more moments, the noise was gone. Convinced she was in the clear, she looked around to find her bearings. She knew the forest like the back of her hand. In order to avoid the wolves, she chose to start walking to the right. She knew after a few minutes of walking she would enter a clearing where she could really take inventory of her surroundings.

She began walking again. The surprise from the wolves had caused her to breathe quite quickly, and she was getting light headed. The cold air was hurting her chest and she felt she needed to rest in the clearing before continuing. She walked a little faster to her destination, knowing the pain she felt would subside after a short rest. Just in front of her she could see the trees thinning. Relief began to pour through her body. Her heart began to steady. Fiona took a final step to the clearing, when she stopped. Her eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. There, in the clearing, was the creature. Creature seemed like the wrong descriptor, now that she saw it. It looked more like a person, thin and tall, with what looked like long dark hair. She clutched her small bag closely to her, causing the empty lantern to scrape against the outside of the bag. What would have been barely audible cut through the forest night like a knife. The creature turned, and that’s when Fiona noticed. The creatures eyes. The person’s eyes. They were green – a bright flashing green that almost seemed to illuminate her path. They struck her as familiar. It couldn’t have been Frederick. It was much too thin to be him. And his eyes were never so green, never filled with fear and loathing like the eyes of the beast. But she couldn’t shake the hope that she had found him. Before she could make a move or sound, the creature darted into the darkness.

Fiona followed, her love for her brother compelling her to continue. Any fear she had was washed away by the resounding feeling she had finally found whom she had been searching for all this time. Visions of a tearful reunion began to filter through her thoughts, causing her to lose track of where she was for a moment. Realizing she had lost her ground, she stopped. She looked around. She knew after the clearing the forest grew dense again. A small creek cut through the dense trees and would lead her back to the village well. Turning around and around, she tried to figure out where she was. The forest was familiar, but unknown at the same time. The pale moonlight that had painted the forest floor was all but gone. She looked up through the trees and was greeted with nothing but darkness. Her heart was starting to pound, drowning out any noise from her surroundings. She felt an icy breeze at her back.

Scrambling for her lantern, she turned around. The clearing was no longer behind her. She was lost. Fears began flashing through her, white hot anxiety gripped her throat. Her breathing was becoming labored. Frantically fiddling with the lantern and oil, she struck the flint to light the oil. A spark danced on the oil before forming a flame. She closed the lantern and held it in front of her. The light was almost blinding in the darkness, and she could not see for a short amount of time. Suddenly, she heard a loud snap of branches in front of her. As her eyes adjusted, she saw it. She saw him. It was Frederick. Covered in gangly hair that was tangled and matted down his back. His thin body looked like it would snap in a high wind. And his eyes. His eyes were wild, and any resemblance to her own features was gone. A sinister smile crept across his face before he was gone in a flash.

She rushed after him, lantern swinging wildly. He turned a corner behind a large tree, and was out of sight. Fiona turned the corner and stopped dead in her tracks. He was gone. Perhaps her hopes had created an illusion? Confused, cold, frightened, and alone, Fiona stood beneath the large tree. She looked up, but all she could see were leaves rustling in the chilly wind. Just then a blood curdling scream rang throughout the forest. It sounded like a man was crying out for his life. But as soon as it happened, it dissipated. The leaves and wind ate up any remaining echoes.

Not sure where to go now that her only lead had disappeared, she walked forward. She was no longer cautious with her footsteps. She was hurriedly trying to find familiar footing. The darkness was starting to play tricks on her. Faces in the shadows danced and mocked her. Her fear was beginning to grip her heart tightly, she was choking back hot tears. This must have been how Frederick felt when they were separated. Her fear turned to sadness as her thoughts of her brother filled her head. How alone he must have been, how hungry and scared he must feel.

Fiona’s vision was blurring. She wiped the tears from her eyes quickly. Her responsible personality was trying to take over, urging her to continue through the woods. She knew if she could not find her brother, she would have to go back. Someone had to run the store. Someone had to be accountable for her family. If she could not return, the village would struggle even more. Every family had a hard time making ends meet, and without the tools to farm or hunt, the village would not survive. She took a deep breath. The air still stung as she swallowed deeply. She rubbed her throat and chest to try to soothe the pain. Just as she was about to turn around to try and find the clearing again, another scream rung out. This time laughter followed. A familiar laugh.

Fiona followed the laughter. It seemed to echo on forever. The trees were getting thicker as she followed deeper into the woods. The only light now was from her lantern, and the small amount of oil she had prepared was almost out. The flame was dwindling, along with her confidence. The laughter was creeping under her skin. Its familiar tone was dripping with an unfamiliar malice. Slowly she followed the laughter, which was now accompanied by a hushed gurgling. As she continued, the noises became clearer – it was obvious she was now trailing the source of the sounds and not just the echoes.

She was trying to be quiet again. Her fear would cause her to misstep every now and again. Each twig snap or crackle of leaves would silence the laughter, only for it to be picked up again in force. She was close now, and the trees were thicker than ever. An opening in the trees revealed a small cave in the side of a large boulder. It looked like someone had taken a long time to hollow out a shelter. The smell of decay was growing. It was not the decay of leaves, but of flesh. She thought she had stumbled on a wolf den. They were the apex predators of the forest, and it would make sense that some of the carcasses from their meals would rot after the main course was complete. She kept an eye to the ground and her ear to the wind. She watched as small bones began to peek from the underbrush. As she continued on, the bones got larger, until she tripped over what she thought was a large rock. She gagged as she saw that she had stumbled over a skull. It resembled a canine. Fiona told herself it must have been an older wolf who went off to die alone.

As she continued to slowly approach the cavern, the more skulls and skeletons were littering the forest floor. Her lantern had died out now, and the only light seemed to be the faint white glow of the bones in the darkness. She stopped behind a tree near the cave, trying to position herself so she could both see inside and not be seen herself. It was then that the laughter kicked up again. Fiona stood in the doorway of the cavern. Upon seeing the interior, she immediately gagged. Bones upon bones were stacked to the ceiling. In the back of the cavern was a small fire. Over the fire was a spit, slowly rotating. The smell of burning flesh and hair filled the air of the cave. The crackling of the cooking meat turned her stomach. It was a person. The pile of clothes by the fire were a clue as to who was rotating on the spit. The farmer, from the store earlier, who had accused her brother of being the creature. The muscle membranes were curling under the heat and the eyes had long ago turned black from the smoke. She had to turn away. The smell, the sounds, the sight – it was all too much to bear.

The gruesome sight had taken all her attention. As she shifted her eyes she saw him. Frederick was standing hunched over the fire. His maniacal laughter continued to ring throughout the cave. He was just watching as the spit turned, cooking what Fiona presumed to be his dinner. He was a horrid sight. Caked in dirt, his hair was matted and tangled. It hard grown to be much longer than her own hair, but it still held auburn color. His side profile revealed he had a thick beard, which was also matted with dried blood. It was obvious he was trying to survive.

Just then, Frederick turned around abruptly. Another sinister smile crossed his lips as he ran is tongue over his yellowed crusted teeth. Fiona’s eyes were welling with tears. She did not care how grotesque he had become, he was her brother, and she had finally found him. She cautiously walked towards him, but before she could make it halfway through the entryway, a loud crash rang out from the back of the cave. Frederick collapsed, his skin was clinging to his protruding bones and it seemed as if every vertebrae would have broken on impact. He seemed fragile. She approached him. She was worried, what had caused him to fall? There was nothing illuminated from the fire in the back. It seemed as if they were alone.

“Frederick?...” Fiona whispered. She kneeled down to check if he was OK. He had a large gash along his spine, spilling blood. From the back of the cave she heard a stumble and thud. Frederick looked up and faintly smiled, without a hint of malice. He moved forward from the back of the cave. It was as if he knew she had been standing there all along.

“Fiona…I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. We were separated, I tried to find you. I looked everywhere. Before I knew it, night had fallen. I had been searching the woods for you, but I never knew how much time had passed. The only things I’ve eaten the forest has provided. The wolves. They are ravenous…but so was I” a heavy breath struggled to leave Frederick.

“The forest kept me. The forest wanted me here. It talks to me. It tells me what I must do to survive. I have taken countless lives, animal and human alike, to keep the forest happy. Those missing people, this farmer, all of them, they had wandered too deeply. The forest told me that if I wanted to survive, I had to give them to the forest.” Another staggered inhale and exhale

“The forest has had enough of me now. It’s going to take me too. I cannot keep it happy – I don’t think anyone can. You’ve come too deep, Fiona. The stories were not just that, they were all true. This forest is not all it seems. And I’m sorry that it has come to this”

Frederick stood, wobbling over towards Fiona, blood still pooling beneath him. Fiona noticed the sharp edges of the cavern. Frederick must have backed into the side of the cave when preparing his meal, stabbing him in the back. He reached out his hand, and Fiona did the same. She so badly wanted to grab him, take him home and clean him up, start all over.

Their fingers grazed each other before he fell forward. His face hit the stone with a deafening thud, and a loud crack could be heard. His head lay in an awkward position. Fiona choked back tears. All this fear, all the trials and years she had put in to find Frederick, only to have him die at her feet. She sobbed, as the spit in the back of the cave continued to turn.

A rustling sound filled the cavern, drowning out the sound of cooking meat. The leaves were whispering to her.

“The forest will provide for you, if you’re willing to provide for it”

She knew what to do. She hoisted Frederick up over her shoulder and walked him back to lean against the back of the cave. His breathing was shallow and labored. She turned her attention to the spit with the farmer. With each rotating, her disgust faded. The wind picked up once more, smoke from the flesh and fire billowed out of the entrance of the cavern.

“What will you provide, Fiona?”

She walked out of the cave to the tree where she had been watching from the outside. She had left her bag there when she rushed in to see Frederick. Inside was a small knife she kept to cut the loaf of bread. She picked it out of the bag and held it steadily in her palm. She walked back to the cave, with her bag over her shoulder. Standing in front of her fading brother, she smiled, a smile of malice. Plunging the knife into his jugular, she watched as the life faded from him.

A clap of thunder filled the forest. A storm was coming. Fiona turned to face the front of the cave, and in the entryway laid a basket of fruit and canteens of water. Happily she sliced some meat from the spit, and picked a few berries from the basket.

Smiling, she sucked the fat dripping down her chin and thought of ways to preserve her other meal that was sitting up against the back of the cave.

The forest had claimed its new creature, and was providing for it well. 