The familiar smells of a barn and hand fill my nose before I am able to fully process the gruesome scene that lay before me. Various shades of red splatter the hay, the ground, and even the wooden beams above.
I turn to a noise to my right. There, in the barn's open double doors, is a completely naked woman. In her hands is a pitchfork. She is shaking and pointing the pitchfork at me. No, not at me. At the man.
He lay in a haystack nearby, his legs visible but most of his body buried in the hay, his weight having caused it to fold in around him. He has several puncture wounds, superficial, marking his body. But that was obviously not what killed him. His death blow came from ripping his head off, probably cast to the side or maybe even being digested in my stomach right now. It was hard to tell.
The woman does not look afraid of me. Instead, her anger is directed at the man. I can see blood trickling out of her, running down her legs, but she does not seem to take notice. She steps towards me and I step back. She looks at me, in my eyes, and sets down her pitchfork, raising her hands afterwards to show that she does not mean any harm. She keeps her eyes on me as she walks to where the man's body lay. She kicks him, her bare feet doing almost nothing to move him, but I can see that something inside her clicks. She kicks him again and again now, letting out frustrated yells as she does so.
I stand there, towering over her as she kicks him, waiting for her to let every ounce of her hatred out on him. It makes no difference to me, I will still take him once she is done. Finally, she stops her barrage of kicks and lets out a primal and angry yell, throwing her head back and slamming her fists into her own thighs. When the last of her yell ends, the silence fills the void and it is heavy.
She turns and starts out of the barn, but right as she is nearing where I first saw her, there in the doorway, she turns and looks at me once more. I can feel her eyes examining my horrific visage, but her eyes are not filled with fear.
"Thank ye, Creature of The Forest."
YOU ARE READING
The Thing in The Forest
TerrorThis story tells the tale of a creature that lives in The Forest, brought alive through time by a calling from desperate women. This story leaps between a backwards telling of recent events in The Forest and retellings of her life before she became...
