"The Crossroads"

It was strange, Nicholas thought, that the forest road was somehow more dreary than he remembered. The air was dense, and the trees he once played beneath glared down at him as though they had faces- their branches like arms with clawed hands reaching out to grab him. Stamping down a childish fear, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and whistled a cheerful tune to drown out the moaning creaks of the branches overhead.