Sweet Dark Tale

Prologue

There was a girl in the forest.

She was innocent, and small. She had a pale blonde head of hair and wide brown eyes. She was full of hope and happiness.

She also wasn't supposed to be out at night.

Her hand was reaching out, wanting to know the pattern of the brush and berries, hoping that the tiny bells could be eaten.

"You shouldn't touch them," a voice whispered from nearby the young girl. She started, eyes darting around, hand quickly dropping from where it rested near the patch of silver berries.

Slowly, someone else emerged from the darkness, the light from the child's candle reflecting off of her eyes. "They're very poisonous." Her head was covered by the hood of a black cloak, leaving only the tip of her nose and mouth completely visible unless the light shine directly onto her eyes. She hadn't made a sound until she'd spoken, not even a rustle of fabric or the sound of breath.

"Who are you," the child breathed, not quite a question. She didn't expect the cloaked woman to answer, anyway. Her prediction was mostly right—at first, the woman simply drifted toward her.

But then her melodic voice sounded off slowly. "I am the caretaker of the woods. The one made of mist, the one you can't catch." Her voice was lulling and sleepy, but without that familiar and quite human rasp. Far too smooth, far too relaxed.

At this point the child began to grow uncomfortable. "My mother is waiting for me down the path. I best be going."

"Oh, but she isn't, is she? No one comes into the trees, especially not mothers with their daughters."

The child knew that this woman wasn't right in the head. She had been raised smart, and wasn't about to let the woman get any closer to her. With each inch the stranger gained on her, the young girl shuffled backward, small boots going faster and faster.

"Nice speaking to you, ma'am. But I really must be going." With every word, the girl who had experienced only ten years of life felt her breathing accelerate and her feet go faster. Eventually she stopped feeling the steadiness of worn dirt underneath her and started feeling roots and brush. She had gone off-path.

Still the stranger advanced, cloak rippling behind her. Her sick smile grew wider, like a shark's, until it seemed to overtake her entire face. The girl felt herself begin to panic, mind firing to think of a way to get out of the situation—

She tripped.

It was a root, a big one, that she hadn't seen coming from behind her. She fell to the ground, arms flailing and lantern going flying. As it flew through the air, the open sides of it let air in until it winked out, leaving the forest in darkness.

The girl couldn't see a thing. Shouldn't have gone out, should have listened to mother—

Where was she? Where was the stranger? The child couldn't see more than an inch in front of her own face, let alone feet in front of her.

But if the young girl, known as Charlotte to the townspeople, couldn't see, then neither could the Other.

Charlotte's heavy breathing was the only sound. She put a hand over her mouth, trying to quiet it.

She stayed like that, one arm pressing down into the damp moss of the tree bedding, feet and body bruised from her tumble, until she was sure that the Other was no longer around.

She slowly got up, eyes mostly adjusted to the night and dancing around in caution. She had heard of the Other before, but never believed the legends.

Until now.

The Other had disappeared, fluttering away like a breeze. Unnatural.

Charlotte began to make her way in the direction she thought she would find the path. She tried to walk softly, keep leaves from crunching underfoot, but still felt as loud as her father's fist slamming down on the table when he got drunk and angry.

Charlotte plowed onward, no longer caring about volume anymore. She had to get out.

Fear made her heart beat fast, made her hands twitch. She thought she could see the path up ahead, the path that would take her back home, back to Momma and Ressie and Susa.

Then she was running. She was only ten winters of age, and the night had taken its toll on her. Sneaking through the woods, meeting a strange woman. But it would be over soon, that she knew. At the time, she had no idea exactly how right she was.

She was flying down the dirt trail, her dress covered in mud and grass. She could practically see the light of the village up ahead, remembering warmth and light and happiness—

Almost there. Almost home, not going to die.

Her hope was crushed when she stepped into Charlotte's path, only feet from her.

It was the Other.

It was the human-but-not that had supposedly killed a great many in this forest. Her features were terrifying and indescribable, at least to a young girl who had never truly had reason to be afraid until she ventured into the dark wood that night.

Charlotte's first thought when she saw the Other was that her teeth were too sharp.

It was also one of her last.