Where The Tree Blows Silent

Chapter 1: The Car, The Hill & The Tree on the Hill

The rays of sunlight stab through the window as I drive along the countryside. I roll down my window and stick my arm out, touching the outside of the door. The past few weeks I have been putting in overtime and because of how much work I was doing, my boss told me to take a two weeks paid vacation to "Reduce my stress". I could really see through his bullshit though. I knew that he knows I can't stop thinking about my job. 

For the past 15 years, I have worked with the FBI. Even though I have been assigned many cases and many of them were solved, I still feel like I have done nothing with my career. Which, even I know is bullshit. I have been working for 15 years and have solved several missing person cases. I have also been awarded several times and time after time praised for my work. However, as the years went by, I began to "beat myself up over certain cases" my boss has said to me multiple times through the years.

 As I continue driving down the desolate road, I hear a loud popping noise and the car slowly loses its speed. "This can't be happening". I say to myself as I quickly pull over to the side of the road and hit the brakes. I exit the vehicle and open the hood. A large cloud of smoke blows into the air. I get back into the car and flip the ignition switch trying to turn it on, nothing. In a fit of rage, I slam my fists into the steering wheel and let out a scream of anger. My head begins to pound to the rhythmic beatings of a drum; Quick & strong. I take a deep breath in and a slow, lengthy exhale to calm myself down. 

After a moment, I am feeling better and observing my surroundings, I take note of a large hill with a tree at the top. Next to the tree, I see a mysterious and dark figure floating slightly above the ground. The figure is cloaked and his face is Hidden. However, I can see two horns extending upward and inward. In one hand, he holds a staff and is resting his other hand on the middle of the tree. Intrigued by whatever the hell it was, I begin to make my way to the hill to begin my ascent.

The hill was much steeper than it had looked from afar. A couple of times, I had lost my footing and fell down the hill forcing me to restart. Luckily, I hadn't made it far up when I fell and only scraped my arm once. When I finally made it closer to the top of the hill, I feel a gentle gust of wind run its fingers through my hair, making me determined to finish the climb and with a last burst of energy, I make it to the top of the hill.

After finishing my climb, I take a moment to catch my breath. Climbing the hill took a lot more out of me than I had anticipated, and I would consider myself in good shape. Looking around, I see the tree off to my left. At the bottom of the tree, near the trunk lay a sign that reads "The Sacred Tree". The Sacred Tree? I ask myself kind of letting out a slight chuckle What is so "Sacred" about it. As I let out another slight chuckle, it hits me. The shadowy creature is no longer there. He was gone without a trace. Just like a ghost or a figment of my imagination that is growing ever insane. I look behind me and down the hill. Laying at the bottom of the hill is my car, smoke still coming out of the front. At least it's not "Magically Fixed" I say to myself sarcastically. To the left, beyond the tree, all I see is Road as far as the eye can render and the same is to my right. In front of me, on the other side of the hill, I see what seems to be a gated town. The gate looked simplistic and was made out of wood. Hmph, maybe they'll have someone down there to help me fix my car. I mutter doubtfully with a hint of hope as I begin to make my way down the other side of the steep hill. 

As I run down the hill, I feel my body begin to push itself forward and lead me. The further down the hill I make it, the faster my body begins to go and the harder it is for me to slow down. Eventually near the end of the hill as it begins to flatten out, I fall and roll down the last leg of the hill, the grass and dirt stinging as I quickly roll on my arms.

When I get to the bottom of the hill, I take a minute to stand up. My arms are sore and my head begins to throb. Probably a concussion. Hopefully I can get checked out by a medic in the town. I say to myself. Eventually, I pull myself up and brush off the dirt on my shirt and pants. Not all of it falls off, but I'm fine with it. I assess my arms and see if there's any visible damage. None. Apart from a little blood and being extremely red and sore. The bleeding eventually subsided and I began to walk towards to giant gates of the town. Before walking up to the gate, I look back up at the hill to see if the cloaked figure had returned. He hadn't.

As I make my way toward the town, I notice a giant sign that says "Wellinglow" in giant, white, carefully painted letters. "Wellinglow" I say quietly as I read the sign. Seems Quaint. I say to myself as I put my hands on the two giant handles to open the gate. Before I pull on the handles, a voice comes from behind me.

"I wouldn't go in Mr. Fraley" said the voice. Startled, I quicky turn around with my fists raised in defense.

"Woah, I don't want a fight." He continues. The man is wearing rugged clothes and gray hair. He wore an eyepatch and had wrinkles all along his forehead. Along his face there was also a large scar running down from above his eyebrow down to his lip.

"Who are you? How do you know my name?" I ask.

"Don't worry about my name. I'm just a lonely wanderer. One who knows the true dangers the town that lays before you."

"True dangers. Right" I respond sarcastically through a chuckle as I begin to turn my back. He then grabs my shoulder.

"You must listen to me" he pleads. "Very few people who enter the town leave. I should know, I was one of the lucky ones. It's almost as if there's a curse on the town."

I force his hand off of my shoulder and turn back to the door. After a long silence, he finally says
"Fine. Go in. Just don't say that I didn't warn you.". I turn around to wish him luck on his Journey however when I turn around, he is gone. Weird. I mutter to myself. Before turning to finally go into the town, I look up at the hill one more time and, to my surprise, the mysterious figure was there. Leaning up against the tree, pointing his finger at the town and with a deep breath, I step foot into the town of Wellinglow