The Forest [septiplier]

9 - Falling Action

Mark turned to Jack, who was still lying in the mud. Anti banged him up pretty bad. His arm was taken out of the bandages. The bruises had died down, but it still wasn't anywhere near straight. Mark decided he'd fix it up later. They couldn't stay here.

Mark smiled a sad smile, looking over his husband. He really hoped that this whole thing was real. He really hoped that after this he and Jack could go back to living a semblance of a normal life. He really hoped that he wasn't crazy, that Jack wasn't crazy, that their sanity was still as intact as it could be after witnessing something like that. They had never wanted a picket fence life. But to Mark right then, nothing seemed more appealing.

He picked Jack up carefully this time, slinging his knees over one arm and his shoulders over another. Bridal style. "How fucking ironic," Mark muttered.

Of course, Mark didn't know where they were going, but there was something about this place he felt the need to steer clear of. It was like a presence of some sort. It was like the feeling that it wasn't over, that something still lurked in the shadows. Like most things, Mark decided to ignore it.

He began to walk. The map was somewhere in Jack's pocket, but Mark didn't know that. He just walked. Nowhere in mind, nowhere to go, nothing to do. Normally, that would sound enticing and relaxing. In the forest, it sounded like a death wish.

Mark stumbled upon a berry bush. It was right around the time he realized the duffel bag was missing. "Convenient," Mark said, looking over the berries. "Berries two bad for you, berries group good for- no, that wasn't it," he said. "Dammit Jack, you'd know this stuff," he said to Jack. Jack didn't say anything back because he was unconscious and that would be concerning. "Maybe I am crazy," Mark muttered. He decided to be safe just in case, passing up on the purple berry bush.

More steps, more trees. Nothing seemed relevant and it was still daylight. It wasn't even dwindling daylight, like the sun was finally readying itself to fall behind the horizon. No, it was the high noon, sweltering, sunscreen kind of daylight. Mark didn't understand. Time wasn't passing like it was supposed to. Mark didn't have a watch or anything and he knew that.

"Alright, I'm done," Mark said, his breath a little ragged. He'd been carrying Jack for what felt like forever, but was probably around an hour and a half. He made a mental note to stop after twenty footsteps, setting up camp there, and sleeping. "Who cares that the sun's still out," he said. "The sun's always out."

Twenty footsteps. Got it. His knees were feeling like jelly. Fifteen footsteps. He could do it, even if the sweat running down his back was making him uncomfortable. Ten footsteps. Five. Three.

He was in the clearing again.

"Oh come on!" Mark shouted to the empty forest. He'd walked all that way and he only came back here? The cabin where all the bodies had hung, soaked in stench, their tongues the color of Viniq. He swore he'd never go in there again.

It happened as suddenly as a bowling ball drops. The sunny, beating sky opened up in rain.

"You motherfucker," Mark said to the sky. It didn't respond either because it is the sky and that would also be concerning. Mark resituated Jack in his arms, debating stepping inside the cabin's doors.

Lightning smashed into a tree not twenty feet away. It obliterated the thing, spikes of wood flying in every direction. A purple light all but blinded Mark, lighting up the forest.

"Okay, okay, I'm going in!" Mark shouted. "Jesus, calm down," he said. He wasn't quite sure who he was talking to, but this whole thing was already looking pretty unnatural. He'd say supernatural, but he really didn't want that. He was fucking fed up with the supernatural at this point.