The Reluctant Adventures of Pigglebottom Broadsword

Chapter Six

Pigglebottom eventually happened upon a bridge which crossed the stream, the sight of which brought back memories of his childhood. He had always loved to throw sticks into the water then race to the other side of the bridge to see the current gracefully clutching it in its liquid embrace as it drifted away. The act of casting an item to the depths below and watching whilst it slowly left his field of vision provided Pigglebottom with a unique feeling that perhaps it was just as easy to cast off one's own hardships and insecurities. Feeling weak from his continued hunger, he slowly lent down to the floor and snapped a twig off from a shrub next to the river bank, clambering up the rickety bridge he dropped the stick into the water, slowly turning to the other side in anticipation of seeing the twig again, floating away from him. Pigglebottom waited for a few moments but did not see any sign of the twig. Feeling that nothing was going right for him, he slumped onto the handrail and stared into the water with a sense of melancholy. Staring at his misshapen reflection in the water was enough to make him avert his gaze, he'd never liked his own reflection, no doubt as a direct result of his mother who whilst he looked into a mirror one day, informed him that "if you keep staring at yerself you'll get even uglier, the wind's already changed once by the looks of it!". The water rushed under the bridge calmly as Pigglebottom noticed many things bobbing up and down in the water, sadly everything but his precious twig. Suddenly, Pigglebottom's eyes were caught by a rather large object being swept down through the river; a body, and not just any body, an old, rotting carcass of a shell. Pigglebottom looked closer and realised it was that of a human woman, dressed in tattered clothing with long white hair and a strangely blue-ish complexion. This was the second time in his life that Pigglebottom had seen a dead body, the first was at the funeral of his grandfather (on his mother's side) who was a distinct shade of green due to having been left out in the sun prior to the burial. 'There's nothing I can do for her, looks like she's long gone' Pigglebottom thought to himself. However, barely even a second after he had finished his thought, the eyes of the corpse opened, revealing blood-red pupils that bore straight into Pigglebottom's soul as it stared ferociously at our hero, who was now, unfortunately, quaking in his little boots. It quickly thrashed in the water from side-to-side grabbing onto the river bank and pulling its suddenly life-filled body out. Pigglebottom almost left his jaw behind on the floor as he raced across the bridge away from the woman. Thankfully for him, she only had one leg, but this didn't stop her hopping after him for at least a mile at a surprisingly quick pace. Pigglebottom ran faster than he ever had before and didn't look back once. Before he knew it he had found himself in almost complete darkness as without realising, he had run straight into the Stiff Wood, an area known for its almost cloud-touchingly tall trees. The sunlight was completely blocked from view, and, as a result, Pigglebottom couldn't make heads nor tails of what direction he was heading in, but was thankful that he had seemingly outrun the previously thought to be dead woman.

Pigglebottom began to shiver as he wandered through the increasingly dim woods. Just as he had decided to rest for the night, he saw in the distance a faint glow illuminating a cluster of trees. Despite the fact that this might have been a resting pack of Whywolves or one of the wood's ancient tribes who were rumoured to enjoy cannibalism, Pigglebottom felt drawn to the light, and before he knew it his legs began to walk him towards it. He came to a clearing behind a dense row of trees and after weaving his way through vines and prickly porcyapine trees, he emerged into a clearing where he saw a bonfire blazing bright and the back of an old man sitting in front of it. His posture was hunched and from his body hung heavily worn and darkly stained clothes. On his head sat a few lonely strands of thin white hair. Pigglebottom hesitated for a moment but his feet quickly began walking again as they ferried him towards the flames. As he approached, the elderly man began to slowly turn around, a turn which was seemingly swift yet lasted years, his movements were utterly graceful. As Pigglebottom found himself sitting down next to the man, long dark oily hair slowly sprouted, strand by strand, from the man's previously mostly bald scalp. His long crooked nose pointed downwards firmly into his tangled and crumb-filled beard, which itself hung at least a foot from his chin.