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)
He was close and he was reaching out, letting me know that he was ready to talk. I didn't stop and kept on walking.
I could feel the confusion that he was feeling, a collateral effect of his mind connection. I could see his thoughts in my head as clear as the full moon on a cloudless sky, but now I could also get glimpses of what he was feeling too, like cobwebs that stick on you when you walk past them. These webs could sometimes be an emotion or a certain mood or inclination, other times were like a hint of some desire, and even a hidden intention.
He'd been following me ever since I entered the trail and he was confused because he didn't know why I hadn't stopped to talk to him yet.
"Not here," I said while I kept walking ahead on the trail. "This conversation needs to be done in the same place where we used to talk, at the boulder's narrow passage. That's where I'm heading."
It was where our story had started. It was where it should end too.
The tingling in my head subdued as his mind's presence retreated into the woods. I glanced to the side and spotted a dark shadow moving in the forest, passing behind the trees, walking alongside me.
There were a few Red Drops scattered along the forest's border, scarce, bright specks of red tinting the dark green grass. Red Drops seemed to be the only flower capable of growing in the thick shades of the Redwood trees.
They weren't showing much on this part of the trail, but I knew they would come out a lot more halfway down this path, and by the time I reached the boulder's narrow passage, they would be at their peak in glorious numbers.
'They are the forest's crimson tears, these, what you call red drops.' I felt the prickling at the back of my neck again as his voice commented in my head. 'The center of the forest is bursting with them. A sea of red as far as the eyes can reach, waves of them moving in sync with the brushing wind, like a living pulse, visible for the eyes to see, the forest's beating heart. It is quite a sight to behold.'
I frowned, not understanding the point of him telling me this. My thoughts felt sluggish and muddled and I noticed that it was getting harder and harder for me to think. Exhaustion had a ferocious grip on my body, and my mind as well, it seemed.
'You always look for them. Every time you walk down this trail, you look for the flowers. I thought you might like to know that they beat the hardest at the heart of the forest.' He answered my unspoken question.
It truly must be a vision made only for dreams, I thought to myself, entertaining the idea in my head. I wondered if any human must have ever witnessed such a sight and what it would be like to be me who got to see that in person...
