Saplings: A Garden of Monsters Collection

Dryad SO | Unnamed | Part 1

[Unspecified Reader x Genderless Dryad]

[You x It]

[NSFW? No sexiness but some gun violence.]

...

You run away from him.

You liked him because he was nice...being protective was a bonus.

But he wasn't protective.

He was possessive.

You /liked/ him.

Had.

Had liked.

But now you run away. Through the brambles and brush. Away from his voice calling your name.

Isn't it funny how quickly things can change?

You went with him just once. To a place you could look at the stars.

But now you run beneath them.

You just wanted to feel safe.

You hear his voice calling to you again, it echoing off the trees: "Come on, Y/N! I was just /joking/."

You know there is a hidden recluse out here—some building that was abandoned.

You feel it may be your only shot.

To hide.

Like some frightened little animal.

You ignore your so-called date's coos and power on forward. If you remembered correctly, there should be...

...a clearing up ahead. Your eyes start watering both in relief and exasperation.

Then the tree bark to your left explodes and you are hit in the side of the face with some of its shrapnel. Making a gasp that almost makes you choke, you see your ex off in the distance, shotgun poised.

You bolt for the door of this place—what seems to be a green house of sorts— that has seen better days. The frosted glass panes that haven't broken or cracked are dulled with dust, dirt, and pollen, and are held precariously in place by the house's rusted metal frame. You can see some plants' vines are peering out of the spaces, no longer trapped by glass.

But this homely facade doesn't concern you, as you tear open the flimsy door and shut it behind you while the glass above shatters with another /pop!/— causing you to yell out while you duck to cover your head and neck from the shards.

"Don't make me come in there!"

He seems so close now.

You scramble into the main part of the building, where rotted wood tables of overturned pots team with plants of all kinds. You try not to disturb any of the debris from broken panes or pots, but you can barely see, and some pieces scuffle and crunch from your shoe. Some water dribbles down from an open pane and wets the back of your shirt—chilling your skin. You know you don't have enough time to find a way out—so you've got to hide.

You decide to crawl behind some of the potted landscaping bushes and trees near the front to sneak your way out as he searches—it was better than under a table where you would definitely be prone if he caught you, and way better than to trap yourself in a cobweb-ridden broom closet where you would wait until he eventually found you.

Squeezing yourself carefully behind scraggly bushes, you crouch down and try to calm your panicked heart, unconsciously reaching out to grab one of the trunks that is growing out of the dirt of a broken floor tile and feeling the rough texture and solidity of something that's been growing freely for an unbroken amount of time.

You hear the door burst open with a clang followed by more broken glass, and your hand clenches so hard it cramps, but you dare not move. Not yet.

Hot tears drip down your cheeks. You struggle to quiet your breathing, and your hand feels like it's starting to burn. But you dare not let go. Not yet.

His steps were cool and collected. He slowly passes by you, barely making a sound.

"Come on, Y/N," he says, surveying the area with his gun at the ready. "I think this is all just a big misunderstanding."

He shoots one of the pots on the tables, sending more shards across the floor. One skitters and knocks into your shoe. You take a deep breath and carefully rise, ready to make a break for it, the overgrown shrubs still partially concealing your location. He blasts another pot. Now he has to reload, and you take a step, startling a mouse that was hiding behind the bushes as well. As the mouse bolts toward another corner of the greenhouse, you make eye contact with him.

And he smiles, snapping the chamber of the gun shut.

"I thought..."

He walks furiously toward you, gun raised.

"I told you..."

He stops and aims.

"To listen!"

You put your arms up in reaction, as if that would somehow stop the bullet. But a bullet doesn't follow the shot this time. At least, not where it was intended to go.

Where there once was a plant, there's now a man. Well, you think, maybe both.

A tangle of brambles reaches out like an arm, you can actually see some form of a hand at the end of it.

From...the bush?

Your ex is immobile with confusion, but his gun is still poised.

The arm pulls back while other brambles move to fill in a more humanoid shape. It looks at its hand out of curiosity.

A new voice speaks: "Ow."

What? Did that bush just talk?

With a newly grown second arm, it reaches into the other and manages to rip the bullet out, investigating it curiously. You hadn't noticed the hole in the palm of its left hand, where the bullet went through.

"It's been a while since—"

Another shot blows and you duck down in reaction. But this one was aimed at the chest of the figure in front of you. It absorbs the bullet, only taking a half step back to steady itself.

"Try again," it says to him, now with a tone of annoyance.

Your ex reloads the shot gun, but now with trembling hands.

One blast. Another.

Still it stands.

"You've got to be fuckin' kidding me!" Your ex yells in a rage, running up and hitting it on the head with the butt of his gun.

There is a loud crack as its head splinters, but does not bleed. He tries again.

And again.

And again.

And then once more.

You scream at the top of your lungs for him to stop.

Red-faced and hair damp with sweat, your ex watches as the large dent in this being's head begins to fill in—with more plant matter—until it looks as if he had never been struck.

The plant humanoid sizes up the fuming human in front of him, and it starts to grow in size until he's looking down at him.

"I think," it says. "It'd be best for you to leave now."

In frustrated defeat, he stops to try to pick up his gun that he had unknowingly dropped on the floor after his smashing rampage, but vines twist and curl around it until it snaps under the strain.

The plant man grins: "I don't think you'll be needing that anytime soon."

Shaking his head in disgust, your ex gets the hell out of the greenhouse.

Were you just saved by a bush?

As the plant man returns to a more average human height, you get up off the ground, eyes going blind as you see stars for a second, and try to reach out to the wall for support. Instead, you stumble, knocking into the back of this thing that just saved you, as you collapse.