Keep Off the Grass

The sign was clear enough, even in the moonlit dark. "Keep Off the Grass" it read. But who really cared about all of that? It was just a lawn. Grass was grass and Kurt had been walking for quite some time. His car had broken down some 12 miles back up the road and this was the closest to civilization he'd been since trekking his way in.

He actually had no idea where he was supposed to be, as he thought about it. The small towns had begun to blur together as he'd passed by one after another. To Kurt's recollection, he was pretty sure he was still in West Virginia, but who knew. Three separate detours off the freeway had led him down some questionable back roads and he must have missed a turn somewhere because it was dark and he hadn't seen another car for hours. No cell reception and a painfully low battery didn't help matters either.

Still he was close now, standing at the edge of a massive, fenced lawn, meticulously maintained and dotted by a dozen or so small trees (birch maybe or maple? He wasn't a tree guy). But at the far end over the back fence he saw the signs of what came close to real civilization in these parts, most welcomingly a tall neon sign advertising a 24 hour gas station.

"Oh finally," he said aloud to no one.

Looking down the road before him, he'd shave a solid half hour or more off his weary trek by cutting through the yard rather than walking all the way around. But his eyes met that sign again. "Keep Off the Grass". He hesitated for a moment. It wasn't generally like him to trespass or disrespect someone's property, but come on. It was just some grass. A few, brisk footsteps weren't going to hurt anything and the house on this huge lawn was small and sunken back on the property a ways, marked by a wide brick path. The likelihood the home's occupant (if there even was someone home) would notice was slim to none. He decided.

A quick hop and he had cleared the small fence and landed softly in the plush grass. For a brief second, he paused again. The strangest feeling like there were eyes on him sent a chill up his spine. He was certain no one could have heard his landing, but still the feeling lingered.

"Hello?" he asked to the dark, unchanged property. When he was met with no response, he did his best to shake off the feeling and move on. Just a little more and this weird, awful night could finally be over.

Cold and exhausted though he was, his feet found motivation to finish this upsetting chapter of his cross county trip and he trudged forward. His footsteps fell silently, cushioned by the thick grass. It hadn't seemed so dense from the other side of the fence, but each step sank him in dark, leafy blades up to his ankles, and a glance back showed small craters from his size 12 sneakers in his wake.

"Come on, not much farther now," he breathed before pressing on.

Perhaps a hundred feet in, Kurt began to notice something strange about this manicured landscape. Though perfectly trimmed and even, he was beginning to feel resistance with each step, like gnarled weeds entangling themselves into his laces or catching on the cuff of his pants. Maybe the lawn wasn't so well groomed after all, he'd thought as he continued on.

His journey continued a few dozen feet more and he happily noted that his crossing was nearing it's halfway mark. Not much further now.

A few more feet and something abruptly halted his next step, catching him off guard and sending him reeling face first into the cold, dark grass.

"For fuck's sake," Kurt cried as he tumbled down into the soft, plush grass feeling the blades press into his face. His stomach involuntarily lurched as he found their touch far warmer than they rightly should have been. It was at least forty degrees outside right now, but this grass was warm and damp. But there was something else; a low, almost unnoticeable rhythm, pulsing like a beating heart below the soil. And a smell reached his nose, somehow peach sweet and putrid at the same.

He rose as quickly as he could, wanting to free himself from that smell. The thundering in his breast quickened and he could have sworn he felt the pulsing under his fingertips as he stood match his heart's pace. Kurt moved to keep walking but his right foot would not budge, firmly locked to where it stood. Then the pains began.

"Ah, shit!" he cried. "What the hell?"

It was dull at first, beginning in the apex of his heel and the tips of his toes, but it spread quickly, feeling like his shoe was becoming tighter by the second. The pressure built nearly causing him to cry out, toenails desperately digging into the front fabric of his cheap sneaker. Then a rip signaled the loss of his shoe's battle, but even stranger was the increasing warmth beneath his foot. He felt the same trembling under his sole now.

He wrenched his leg violently and felt the warm earth yield no quarter, pain spreading up his leg.

"Fuck, fuck, no. Come on, no. What is this shit?"

Kurt leaned down to try and dig himself from whatever held him in place and froze, insides turning cold as his hands passed his pants leg and was met with warm bark and solid wood. He lashed and scraped at the solid bark, slowly and agonizingly crawling it's way up his leg, displacing flesh and fabric as it went. The pain and fear rose to a crescendo as he felt what had once been his foot rip and split from his digits to his metatarsals, each branching deeper and wider as they formed roots.

"Help!!" he screamed, "Someone help!!!" The desperate cries were met with only a cruel, mocking silence.

The process continued as Kurt cried and tried to stretch and pull away, but before long, he could no longer move his other foot as it too met the other's fate. He reached into his shirt pocket and fumbled to dial 911.

"Come on!" He cried, looking down.

Inch by inch, his legs rapidly disappeared leaving dry, warm hardened bark where there had once been human, skin, bone and muscle. He looked at his phone, feeling his finger and arms become increasingly stiff and still saw the line ringing. Tears streamed down his eyes, sticking to his cheeks like sap as he gaped at the distortion of his body.

"Somebody!!! Please!!!!" He cried before his breath was choked off in a stuttering cough.

It was too late. His spine began to stiffen further and he could only stare down in horror as his torso slimmed and stretched upwards, contorting itself into a gnarled trunk. His lungs fought for each breath as it creeped up further. Hopeless eyes gazed downward, now several feet higher than where they should have been. Panicked, desperate wheezing where screams should have been trailed off as his lungs dissolved and his arms snapped outward into their branching replacements. His left hand had grown so stiff, the tightened grip shattered his screen; broken glass and plastic electronics slicing the flesh of his hand as they warped and twisted in their celluloid replacements, eventually enveloping what was left of the phone completely.

He felt every bone and muscle fiber rip and crack as they were distorted and replaced. A last, sighing croak escaped his withering lips as a twiggy branch crawled up his throat and out from his mouth, shattering his jaw and palate, finalizing his tortured skull's contortion into the forms of the tree that had consumed and replaced every cell in his body so completely.

His vision was gone and ears deafened yet his mind was still awake. The top of him had stopped it's mutation but below him, he felt his root system continuing to spread below the ground. Soon, his roots began to merge with the other root systems from the surrounding trees and his mind was flooded with the screams of a dozen others who had come before him.

The small police car pulled up outside of the large, sprawling lawn and the small house that sat on it's property. A petite older woman sat on the porch, rocking and sipping her tea. The officer stepped out of his car, and squinted at the midmorning sun.

"This fucking place," he whispered through gritted teeth.

He managed to put on a neighborly smile before turning toward the homeowner. Something about this property made him uncomfortable. That was putting it lightly. This house gave him the creeps. Perhaps it was just that stereotypical old house on the outskirts of town, or the size of the sprawling, unbesmirched lawn by comparison to her tiny little house. Either way, he couldn't put a finger on it. He just hated coming here.

"Good morning, Miss Lawrence," he called from outside of the fence. "How are you this morning?" She creeped him out too. Nice enough lady, he supposed, but there was just something about her.

"I'm quite fine, Ned." The old lady replied, setting her tea down. "What brings you by my way?" Deputy Ned took his hat off and scratched at the balding spot up top before replacing it.

"Another deputy found an abandoned car up the road a few miles back. Out of state plates. Just wondering if you'd seen or heard anything?" The woman smiled.

"Oh no, it was a very nice, quiet night." Ned nodded at her response. His eyes gazed over the expanse of her lawn, peppered as it was by the trees here and there.

"You sure?" He asked. "Dispatch says they logged a call in the wee morning hours. Sounds like it was cut off before anyone heard anything. I guess they sent Deputy Harris on by but all looked quiet."

The old woman smiled brighter.

"Well I sure hope everything was ok. But it was quiet as a summer's eve. Just me, my little old house and my trees." He looked over at the small Grove that dotted her expansive lawn.

"I swear Miss Lawrence, I must be losing it. I swear your yard has more trees on it every year." He said awkwardly. The old woman chuckled.

"Oh don't feel bad. It happens to me too. Sometimes, I feel like they sprout right up out of nowhere." Ned managed an uneasy smile.

"Would you like a nice cup of tea before you head back out? I just put a fresh pot of water on? Keep off my grass now mind you," she invited. Ned looked over her yard once more. That uncomfortable feeling was stronger than ever. Maybe it was Lois's coffee, but he doubted it. No way he was going to spend any more time here than he had to.

"Lovely though that sounds, I'll have to take a raincheck. Duty calls." He tipped his hat and walked back around to his car.

"Have a nice day now," the old woman called. Ned got into the car and drove away, keeping the old woman in his rearview for a distance. If he didn't know better, it looked like she was just staring out at one of the trees on her lawn and smiling.