The Hollow Grove

Hollow (Version 1 Draft, will be updated and revised)

The Hollow Grove is a place that all fear, for more than the animals inhabit these woods. Shadows manifest into more than mere replications, all that have traveled to far into the Grove have been found dead or never returned. For those who survive the dangers that lurk in the Grove are changed, shadowy auras emanate from them, they are cold to the touch, they are know as The Shadollow. Those that manage to venture deep into the Grove do not survive long, legends tell of the creatures that live in the Grove, but no one truly knows, for beware of Hollow Grove.

     As the golden glow of the moonlight crests over this small secluded village in a Grove, the wolves stalk the forest. The howls echo threw the forest and reach the village, the horses start to get uneasy. The village is in steady silence, except for the occasional animal.

A young boy named Michael stirs awake, he looks to be in his mid-teens, dark brown curly hair and vibrant dark blue eyes. A thought pops in the Michaels head.
"I should probably get the catches before the wolves get them."
He gets dressed and grabs his rifle and a burlap bag. He heads out of his cabin as the rusty hinges slowly creak and the old wood rotted bends slightly under his weight. Michael walks toward the stables, he walks threw the gate and unhitches a horse. As both him and the horse sped out into the Grove, the only sound that could have accompanied us was the quiet rustling of the grass and the horses hooves pounding at the dirt road. He stops and gathers a few animals from several traps.
"They put the traps out farther than I remember." Michael states.
     As the hooves of a horse trot across the ground echo threw the Grove another man rides up to accompany this boy. He is a built man, has salt and peppered hair, stubbled chin, a small scar traces from the corner of his lip to the top of his upper cheek bone. Michael recognizes this man as his father.
"Michael, what are you doing all the way out here?! Especially all alone?" Michaels father questions, an annoyed glint shining in his eyes.
"I was only coming to get the nights catches, father... You usually dont wake up early enough to get them before the wolves."
"You should know better than to come this far out alone, boy! What would have happened if that cowardly horse of yours encountered those nasty beasts?!" The man snarled angrily. "He woulda left you for dead!"

The horse snorted angrily, its fluffy ears flipping back in defiance.

"He wouldn't do that! I'm sure this ones loyal!"

Both Michael and his father go deeper into the woods, the Grove becomes thicker and thicker.
     "Michael we need not to go further, come on back."
     "I'm not letting the Wolf's get the spoils, we set them this far for a reason. Whether your going to help or not, i'm going."
      Michael's horse sped up and he travels further and further into the Grove.
     "Michael No!"
      Michaels Father races after Michael far into the Grove to a point where the glistening golden glow of the full moon is no longer visible. The howls of wolves echos louder and deeper into the thicket. The Woods become to thick for Michaels father so see Michael.
     "Michael! Michael!" Michaels father shouts. As Michael rides farther and farther into the Grove the trees go from a dead forest to a rotting and broken alcove. The light of a dimmed fire starts to fill the small opening in blighted forest as a slim figure walks out of the western side of the Grove. Michael slows his horse to a complete stop as this slender figure slowly enters the alcove in the blighted forest. This figure appears to be male, he has a plague doctor mask on fully obscuring his face, a smaller sleek black top hat, his hands are covered by thick leather gloves and he wears thick leather boots, a long thinner black coat with 3 outer pockets and multiple pockets and straps along the inside. He bears a dimly lit lantern in one gloves hand and a hand axe in the other, he has a bundle of dead logs strapped atop his bag.
     "Hello young traveler, are you lost?" The Figure says in a eerily calm and collected voice .
     "No, my home is back along the path threw the Grove," as Michael points behind him, he realizes that the path is gone and there is no visible exit paths threw the Grove. "But, there was a Path right there, me and my Father have traveled it a thousand times. Where is my Father?" Michael has a look of both confusion and concern.
     "So you are lost? Would you like me to help you find your way and your father?" The figure stands still, watching with odd precision.
     "What is your name?"
     "I'm Carinthal, what is your name?" Carinthal remains perfectly still without so much as a twitch.
     "I am Michael, Michael Shagantoth, Carinthal, where is my father and how do you know these woods so well?"
     "Well Michael, I have traveled this forest for a long time, I know this Grove better than anyone else alive or dead." Carinthal starts walking toward the eastern side of the Grove.
"Follow me." Cartinthal says while walking
     "How have you mapped the Grove? Anyone that travels to far in never has returned."
     "If no one ever returns how do you know they have never mapped the area?" Carinthal focuses straight as they walk. The trees twist and converse into a thick, broken, rotting spiral of blight.
     "Because the creatures that stalk these woods cannot be killed, no one could possibly live in the Grove, that's why it is called The Hollow Grove."
     "Curious, is this what they tell you in this Village if yours?"
     "Why do you ask so many questions? And how do you know I live in a village?" Michaels curiosity was slowly peaking.
     "Because I used to live in Triusten, But that was about 3 decades ago, time is a curious concept and has so many flaws. I ask questions because I am curious about you Michael because you remind me of someone I held dear."
     "Who was the person?" Michael noticed that the lantern light was slowly getting dimmer and dimmer.
     "That is a story for another time, how long have you and your father lived in Triusten Michael?" For the first time in a while Carinthal stopped and turned around. Michael noticed threw the mask a light glimmer in his eyes, a small glow almost, he couldn't tell if it was the lantern light or not. His horse was starting moving slower and slower.
     "My whole life, my father said that the last 3 generations of our family had lived in Triusten, he told me that my Great great grandfather, Samuel, had met a man in the Grove.
     This man laid dying against a tree, a severe stab wound in his left torso, Samuel took this man to his cabin in Triusten and brought him back to health. In return this man has helped Samuel and the other townsfolk prosper and build up Triusten to what it is today."
     Michael and Cartinthal locked in a dead stair, Michaels horse started to beckon as it reared back as Michael fell of his horse, the impact of him hitting the ground caused his rifle to go off. The horse rushed off the sound of its hooves got quieter and quieter until it was inaudible.
     "We must hurry, that gun shot will attract more than just the wolves!" Cartinthal pulled Michael off the ground and ran into the Grove dragging Michael by his wrist barely gibbing Michael enough time to grab his rifle. The howls of wolves echoed and grew louder as both Michael and Cartinthal rushes threw the diseased trees. The sounds of branches snapping grew louder the faster they ran, Cartinthal released his grip on Michaels wrist as he came to a abrupt halt, Michael slamming into his back as the force was still carrying him.
     "Why are we stopping?" Michael asked as he glanced in-front of him realizing why Cartinthal had stopped. Michael slowly pulled out his rifle. Standing before them was a large figure, nearly 15 feet tall, bearing scars across its featureless body, it's rib cage exposed, the open wound looks like a black abyss. It's spine protruded from its back into large jagged dagger like points. It's cyan tinted like skin even darker in the tree covered brush. It's legs oddly dear like as the extend back where the knee should be and where race feet would be there are two large hooves. It's long arms drooped down revealing long spindly fingers that end in sharp nails. As it stands looming over Michael and Cartinthal, it's face covered by large dear skull with huge buck antlers bent and curving back in an unnatural way over its head obscuring all but its large glowing yellow eyes and its thick razor sharp maw curing into a grotesque grin.

Special Thanks to DamnFuckenStraight for helping me revise and edit my work.