The Fall of Persephone

one

There was once a watering hole that felt like home.

Tucked deep within the forest, it was hidden, as though the earth itself had chosen to cradle it away from prying eyes. The only sounds to break the stillness were the rustling whispers of leaves and the soft coos of unseen birds. It was her sanctuary, a secret haven where the world could not follow, where time unravelled slowly like the last embers of a fire on a cold night.

The discovery of this place had been pure chance. She would have completely ignored the west side of the forest that spilled into her town if she weren't following a trail of fungi that she knew would trade for good game at the market; she would have missed the clearing if it weren't for an unruly root that caused her to stumble into a thicket of bushes; she would have overlooked the water if it weren't for a crimson red that caught her attention through the bramble. A field of spider lilies shrouded the watering hole, and the beauty took her breath away.

The clearing was a world unto itself, untouched by the harshness of reality. The spider lilies, with their crimson petals, were like flames frozen in time, swaying gently in the soft breeze that whispered through the trees. Their colour stood in stark contrast to the deep green of the surrounding forest, a lush canopy of leaves that seemed to shield this place from the outside world. The air here was thick with the scent of earth and flowers, a heady mix that filled her lungs and made her feel light, almost dreamlike.

The ground beneath her feet was soft, covered in a dense layer of moss that cushioned her steps and muffled any sound she made. The water in the hole was dark and still, a perfect mirror reflecting the sky above and the ring of lilies surrounding it. Every now and then, a ripple would disturb the surface, sending tiny waves outward, as if something unseen was just below, brushing against the surface before disappearing back into the depths.

She had spent many afternoons here since her first discovery, basking in the warmth of the sun that filtered through the leaves, feeling a sense of contentment she had never known before. It was a sanctuary, a place where she could be alone with her thoughts, free from the pressures and expectations of the world outside. Here, she was not the girl with a burdened heart, not the one who was always looking over her shoulder. Here, she was simply herself, and that was enough.

But on this day, something felt different.

The air was cooler, carrying with it the first hints of autumn. The breeze that usually brought comfort now felt sharp, biting at her skin and stirring the spider lilies in a way that made them appear almost alive, as if they were watching her. The silence, once so peaceful, now seemed oppressive, heavy with a tension she couldn't quite place. The trees that had always felt like guardians now loomed above her, their branches twisting together in a way that blocked out more of the light than usual, casting long, eerie shadows over the clearing.

As she moved towards the water, she noticed something unsettling. The reflections in the pool were no longer just of the sky and trees. There were shapes now, dark and indistinct, flickering at the edges of her vision, disappearing whenever she tried to focus on them. The surface of the water seemed thicker, less like water and more like glass—smooth, unyielding. She knelt beside it, reaching out to touch it, and felt a strange resistance, as if the water was pushing back against her hand. The more she tried to engage with the water, the drier her mouth felt.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she pulled back, the warmth of day fleeting her veins and leaving her cold.

She stood up, intending to leave, but as she turned towards the path that had brought her here, she found it gone. The dense thicket of bushes she had stumbled through was no longer there. In its place was a wall of trees, their trunks so close together that there was no space to pass through. She spun around, looking for another way out, but the clearing had changed. The once familiar landscape was now foreign, hostile. The spider lilies seemed to have multiplied, their crimson blooms filling every inch of ground that wasn't covered by the dark water.

Panic began to creep into her mind. She moved quickly, trying to find some way out of the clearing, but every direction led her back to the water, back to the lilies. The trees seemed to close in on her, their branches twisting together above her, forming a dense canopy that blotted out the sky entirely. The air grew thick, suffocating, as if the clearing itself was alive and determined to keep her there.

She tried to push through the lilies, but their stems were like iron, unyielding and sharp. The more she struggled, the tighter they seemed to wrap around her legs, their petals brushing against her skin like cold fingers. The ground beneath her feet began to shift, the soft moss giving way to something slick and cold, something that moved beneath her, as if the earth itself was tessellating.

A sense of dread settled in her chest, heavy and suffocating. She was trapped. The clearing, once her sanctuary, had turned against her, become a prison. The unseen force that had lured her here, that had made this place feel like home, was now holding her captive.

Desperate, she looked to the water, hoping for some sign, some clue as to what was happening. But the surface remained still, impenetrable, reflecting only her own frightened face and the dark shapes that lurked just below.

She was alone, truly alone, in a place that no longer felt like home. And as the last rays of the sun disappeared, leaving the clearing in darkness, she knew with a terrible certainty that she would not be leaving this place—not tonight, and perhaps not ever.