"Fiss" Parts 1 Through 8

"Fiss" Part 1

"It" lives in the woods.
I don't know if there is a them or just an "it.".
But I know for certain there is an "It"

I know because I have seen it up close and personal.
My name is Mary Smith, I'm fourteen, the oldest of three children in our family.
It is the year of our Lord 1702.
We lived far away from town, far from those who shunned us.
To survive, we have a small farm that allows us to grow a modest amount of crops.
There is never enough to sell in town, just enough for us to store away to survive the harsh winters that have become common as of late.

The others in my family are my father and mother, Thomas and Sara.
Along with the twins, May and Beth are identical twins.
The two of them are so identical that there
are times even I can't tell which one I'm talking to.
That is until I spend a moment and look for a scar on May's arm, a scar she got from one of our billy goats when its horn caught her arm and took a chunk out of her.

It is a hard life, always working, and never an empty moment.
When we aren't farming, we are out hunting to make sure we have food for the table and furs to trade in town for those items we can't grow, build, or invent.

The first time I became aware of "It" was last summer.
I had been out hunting in the woods when I came across a quiet glen deep in the woods that looked inviting.
In the midst of this glade was a small pond with an abundance of fish just ready for the catching.

It was a horribly hot afternoon, along with humidity that was oppressive.
I took off my shoes and leggings to sit upon the bank, to cool off and rest prior to resuming my hunt.
The water was cold and invigorating, a welcome relief from the heat.
This was so refreshing I doffed the remainder of my clothes and wadded out into the water.
This had the added benefit of allowing me to wash off the grime that I had accumulated over the last couple of days.

Leaning back and closing my eyes for a bit, I watched the sun play through the leaves as the shadows flitted across my eyelids.
Moments into my rest, I felt something, something there was no reason to feel.
There was no sound that caught my attention just a feeling of wrongness.
Very slowly opening my eyes and turning my head first left and then to the right, trying to locate the wrongness I felt.
There was nothing to be seen or heard, everything looked and sounded as it should.
There were a couple of squirrels playing tag and chasing each other through the branches.
The birds never once halted their songs.
Yet there was something, what that something was I had no idea, I just felt it, I felt the wrongness in the air.

Sitting up, I began to walk around the glade, trying to locate that which set my nerves on edge.
As I wandered around, I peered into the deeper, darker woods around the glade.
It was then that I saw the wrongness that I felt.
"It" was standing just past the limits of my vision, partially hidden by the intervening brush.
This wasn't a person, this wasn't anything I had ever seen or heard of.
"It" stood staring at me, as I stared back, it seemed to fade into the background.
I never saw it leave, it just began to fade as smoke from a dying fire.

Suddenly I remembered that I was standing there naked to the world's gaze.
Never one to panic, I made my way back to the pond and collected my clothing.
While every other moment casting my eyes back towards the wrongness.
Moving as slowly as possible, I made my way back to the trail I blazed.
Never stopping to dress myself.
That would take precious moments. I felt I didn't have, I just wanted to get away from the area.

With distance from the glade, the sense of wrongness began to fade.
At first I walked, the further away I got, the faster I moved until I was flat out running.
The brush and the brambles catching at my legs and sides, I didn't care.
All I cared about was getting away from there, back to the safety of home and family.
A mile or so away, I slowed down and did my best to catch my breath and collect my thoughts.
Taking a moment to collect myself and take stock of my situation, I began by inspecting myself to see and attend to the scratches I had gathered while running.
Standing naked in the woods, I found that my legs were OK, just scratched up a bit.