A dark fairy tale about traps, lures and falling for shadows.
When you see an eldritch dark horror made of shadows by the side of an old cursed trail that no one dares to go, you expect it to be less charming as it tries to trick you with deceitful...
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Art by James Fenner (@JMFenner91 on Twitter)
I raised my hand high above my head, holding onto the lantern tightly, as if by doing that, I could somehow protect the feeble light inside.
The forest outline loomed ominously over the side of the trail. I tried to see past the first line of trees and the light flickered violently inside the lantern, the small flame threatening to give up at any second. The wind howled past my ears while heavy clouds hovered above my head, blocking the moon and the stars from sight.
It was too damn dark to see anything, even with the lantern in my hand. If it wasn't for those horses crossing the trail right as I was passing by, I wouldn't have spotted the abandoned wagon by the side of the forest.
They were Sweeny Buckle's horses, that was for sure, they had Buckle's fancy logo on their harness and saddle. They had gotten free somehow and were wandering near the wagon as if waiting for their owners to return.
I suspected I wasn't going to find Mr. Sweeny or any of his bodyguards tonight. The chances to find them seemed slimmer by the minute, especially now with the discarded wagon and loose horses wandering around.
I already thought their chances were low when Mr. Buckle's wife came by my house, pleading for me to go look for her husband.
Mr. Buckle had caught word about the money I was making with the fast deliveries to Chalkbarrel and he thought that maybe he could get a hold on some of that 'easy coin' for himself as well. He thought he could take on the old Redwood trail, despite all the talk about it being cursed and all. If I was doing it, a scrawny daft kid only one-third of his age, he reckoned he could take a shot at it as well.
Mr. Buckle had been extra careful about the whole thing and had taken all the precautions needed. He got hold of maps of the entire region, he even had taken two of his best men to help him guard the wagon and assist him in the journey. It was going to take a day or two at most for him to return, her husband had told her, but two weeks had gone by and no husband had returned.
The head of the village's council was asked to go look for him in the first week of missing, but he refused to take on the Redwood's trail. He took the New Chalk road instead, even though it was a lot longer, he knew that he'd get to Chalkbarrel safe and sound.
It took him a few days to arrive, and then he inquired around town, but no one had seen old Buckle arrive or leave. The Head of the Council returned from Chalkbarrel empty-handed and without any news, to the widow's despair.
The widow hadn't given up on her husband though, and tried to plead to all the men in the village, begging them to go look for her husband at Redwood, but no one dared to go, no matter how much money she offered.
I was her only and last hope, she had told me, between much sobbing and wailing. She just wanted her fool of a husband back, no matter the cost.
And even though I had heard a few rumors being spread around the village, about how wicked I was and how I'd been consorting with a demon on those woods at the cover of night – rumors probably weaved by Mrs. Buckle and her gaggle of gossipy friends, I may add – I still took pity on her, and told her I'd go look for him.
