Forrest

The wind screams; shrill and icy through the leaves of the ancient forest. As the wind rises the trees seem grow and warp, as though forming a cage to hide itself, from the silver rays of the moon. The louder the wind howls, the more the blacker the darkness seems.

An old man stares into the shifting shadows and finds only blackness before him. Pulling his tattered jacket tight around himself him shivers and ponders which direction will best give him shelter.

There is something alive, sinister and ephemeral in the air. It passes around him unseen and unheard. When he breathes he tastes something he can't quite place, so fleeting so faint, it's dismissed as a trick of the mind. He doesn't know why, but his wants to leave this place. Instinct tells him to run, to flee now. But the conditioning of civilised society and the foolish pride of men makes him walk slowly forward, head held high muttering "nothing to be afraid of."

So on and on he goes, hands outstretched, for fear he doesn't walk into a tree in black. Time was hard to judge for him, he had never learned to read a clock. He had learned by feel and the toll of the church bell the rough length of an hour. Today he could not say if he had walked ten minutes or ten hours, he simply couldn't tell. After trudging on till his feet could no longer carry him, and just as he was about give up and accept that tonight he would just have to be content with being cold and hungry. He spotted glowing orange light flickering in the distance. Light he thought! Lights mean people and people mean food!

The prospect of a full belly renewed his stamina and he headed towards the light with the speed and enthusiasm of a child rushing to the tree on Christmas morning.What he found he did not expect, a young woman, dressed in warm outdoor wear hunched over a portable gas boiler, warming her hands on the flame.

"Hello" he announced himself as he approached not wanting to startle her. She looked up at him, her eyes flashed blue in the fire light, but didn't answer. "Hello" he tried again, this time her head stayed down staring at the flames intensely. From behind her hood a single lock of brilliant white blond hair slipped out and singed as the flames licked it. The acrid stench of burning hair filled the clearing. She quickly quenched it with her hands. "Oh be carefull don't want to lose your pretty hair' the man laughed. She glowered at him, and hissed at him, her tounge flicking like a serpent,"move on."

Taken aback the man replied, "I'm sorry to trouble you, I'm terribly cold could I share your fire tonight please, and if you had any food to spare I'd be very grateful". He rung his hands as he spoke looking down, even after all these years he hated begging. He still saw himself inside as a once proud and influential business man, but that was long ago now. "What's mine is mine" the girl replied now" move on." Please he begged "just scraps would be a great help I'm not fussy." She straightened up and towered over him, how didn't I notice she is so tall? he tought. A silver glint flashed and a knife was suddenly in her hand. "Move on" she hissed for a third time, and this time the wind rose icy and strong as she said the words, forcing the man the stumble backwards and fall to the ground. The sinster presence he dissmised earlier engulfed the air around him. Fear took him then, it flooded his body with such voilent force like a dam bursting, he felt the feeling alone would stop his heart. This time he abandoned pride and convention, and ran like he had never ran before into the blackness.

He ran and ran, his clothes ripped and skin was ripped open as he dashed through trees and bushes. But even in the day this forest was thick so what hope had he in the black, his foot found a root and he spiralled head first into the undergrowth.

He woke to the taste of blood in his mouth, he felt his head and noticed dried blood matted into his hair.It was day now and three police men stood over him, writing notes and taking pictures. I suppose they want me to move on too he thought and got to his feet , he was stiff and sore to move and his back ached. "Sorry I'll be going" he grunted to the police, but they ignored him. Acted as though he was even there. Nothing new there he thought I'm invisible to most. It's almost like a game now, so he called loudly 'bye then" and waved widely. No response no acknowledgement. OK "whatever"he muttered to himself. He turn on his heel and began to march off the very picture of affronted dignity.

"Time of death? What your reckon Charles 4 am?"the words stopped him in his tracks, death who's dead? That girl? Such a shame. "what happened to him Charles," the policeman continued I remember his shop as a kid, "best pick n mix in town!" Horror now took hold of the man and he turned around to the spot where he had been laying and saw his own body lying there cold, lifeless and frozen.