The Hawfinch King

Part 1

Far from the city, on the edge of The Knoll Woods, lay the small town of Arkney. It was filled with wolves, deer, birds, and hundreds of other creatures. But something monstrous lived in the woods too, and the people of Arkney called him The Hawfinch King. He had been around for hundreds and hundreds of years, and he sang beautiful and mysterious songs to lure people into his woods. He was tall and slender, with gray eyes, gelled brown hair, a thin mustache, and longish sideburns. He looked like a perfectly normal human, but he wasn't. The people of Arkney all believed in him, except for one young boy.

He discovered the boy in the middle of a, particularly humid August night. It was at the back of a house on the fringe of town, just in view from the tree line. Milo —which was the boy's name— stood on the edge of Knoll Woods, his dark hair sticking to his forehead and his heart pounding in anxiety. The Hawfinch King glowered at Milo's hand, which held five dead hawfinches. Biting back an angry howl at the sight of the birds, the monster watched Milo climb a birch tree.

Milo climbed with his right hand, the hawfinches in his other until he reached a nice branch. He took a long piece of twine from the back pocket of his worn pants and pulled out his trusty pocketknife before he cut it into five separate pieces. Then the hawfinches were quickly tied to the tree. Milo took out a small crown fashioned from some old wire scraps he had found behind his father's shed and set it upon the head of the hawfinch in the middle. He clambered down the tree, then he carved onto the back of the wooden house,

The Hawfinch King is dead.

The Hawfinch King snapped the branch his arm rested on, and crushed it in his fist. Milo jumped at the sound of a crack from the woods and whirled around at the feeling of eyes watching him. He saw nothing and sighed in relief, so he turned around and headed back into town.

The Hawfinch King stepped out of the woods and walked to the birch tree. His hand brushed against the words Milo had carved, and he yearned to tear down the house, to wring Milo's neck. But instead, he stepped back, took a breath, and retreated into the woods.

************************************************************************

A scream rang out through the air, as the young girl stared at the back of her home. She dropped the wood she was holding, and straightened, backing away quickly. There were five dead birds in the small birch tree and words carved into the back of the wooden house. Her father ran around the side of the house when he heard a scream, and soon a group had gathered trying to figure out what the birds and message meant.

The Hawfinch King watched them through the trees and he was so angry, so very angry. He wanted to steal one of them away, so he could prove that he was indeed real, he was indeed alive, but he was waiting for Milo. He went back into the woods, no longer interested in the stupid village people. He wanted to walk through The Knoll Woods —his woods.

His fingers trailed across the tree trunks, and his hands shook the tree branches sending down a rain of brown and orange and red, as he walked through the dark woods. His voice spilled forth songs of painful beauty. The birds ceased their singing as The Hawfinch King belted out his melodies. His voice carried on the wind, and animals froze, abandoning their usual habits. It sounded faintly throughout Arkney, and even the people stopped their work.

Come into the grave Knoll Woods,

Where sleep will never take you.

I will keep you safe and warm,

And never will forsake you.

Milo could hear it, and it sent chills down his spine. He dropped the ball Finnian was waiting for and looked to the woods. He felt drawn to them, the song was alluring and wild, pulling him in. Finnian shook his ginger head, marveling at his friend. Bending down, he picked up the ball from Milo's feet; for someone of nine, only a year younger than Milo, he towered over his friend at an uncommonly tall height. "Do you see him? He's off in his head again," Finnian said to Jean, his little sister, and Casper —who sat on the grass picking at clovers and dandelions.