And they told me the darkness was not your friend. I felt it embracing me, with its arms once I entered it. Welcoming and filled with joy to see me. Nothing in my hands to be my guide, nature led me through. I heard nothing, not even a cricket. Only the soft sound of the leaves crunching under me feet. Only the soft sounds of my heavy breathing. Only the tiny drips of water onto my head. I felt a branch tickle my leg, and I felt its tug get stronger. I moved my hands to my ankle, and found the branch. I yanked it out of its roots, and tossed it aside. I stuck my tongue out at it, and continued my journey. I touch the roughness of the tree barks and take in the whiff of the humid air. A branch caught my left leg again. I moved my hands to my ankle, and found the branch. It grabbed my hand.
The branch was growing up my arm now, reaching my shoulders. Curse my short arms and their... shortness. I scowl and use my other foot to put some pressure onto the branch. The damned piece of wood started going up my other leg. I felt it coil around my thighs, and the upper one was already swallowing my torso. I reach my right arm out, in pure desperation. I try to run, but they secure my legs. I try to fight, but they secure my arms. I try to scream, but they already gagged my mouth.
Those wooden arms dragged me, through leaves and sharp-edged stones. I felt blood emerging from my face and other limbs. I could only go faster, as I struggled. I soon realized this was a futile attempt, and decided to take a break. I let these things pull me away from reality, I let them bring me wherever they want to. They are welcoming me, they only want the best type of greeting for their guest. Yes, that’s their objective. I see eyes behind the trees, and start seeing their pale decayed arms. Must be my imagination, zombie arms do not exist in this world. I felt them pulling me down now. I do not resist, I only accept.
Down the deep hole I went, each second an enjoyable one. I see worms, ants, all sorts of critters, in the soil. Digging. I try to look up but these branches refused. Maybe it would be for the better. I felt the branches digging into my skin, I felt their sharp edges on my flesh. They’re beginning to suffocate me, they’re beginning to kill me. I do not enjoy this part. My feet feel the ground for the first time, and I felt the branches loosening their grip on me. I feel wet leaves at my bare feet, and I dust the dirt off my clothes. I’m in some chamber, in some hole. Is this illegal?
Many weird objects are placed delicately in this room. From candles to birdhouses, from a little plate of worms to the horns of an animal I can’t identify. I count, and there are 24 of them. I see a little pedestal on the floor, made of pure silver. The words ‘Pick your fate’ engraved on the metal. I saw a petite mirror, and my face distorted in it. I go over, and trace the intricate designs of the frame with my finger. At the very top there lay a sleeping girl- or was she dead? I look into the mirror.
My fate is clear now.
YOU ARE READING
Twenty Four
Short StoryI'm in the forest, where my father died. I don't blame the people who kill him, or rather, the force that kills him. I accept the very human: nature. It is my very fate, and I will let nature guide me in this path to find what I have longed for. Tru...
