TRIGGER WARNING
If you ventured into the depths of the infamous Oak Beck forest on the outskirts of Cinderstone village, the moonlight would guide your steps. As the gentle whisper of leaves, the distant hoots of owls, and the eerie calls of creatures fowl, weaved a mesmerising symphony of nature’s nocturnal melodies.
Yet, as the night wore on, the harmonious ambiance took an unsettling turn. The once enchanting whispers of the wind transformed into chilling murmurs, a hidden malevolence. Amidst the ominous forest, a sinister presence emerged, overshadowing the beauty that once resided within these woods. A macabre transformation began, as the descriptions of these innocent sounds subtly unravelled into the horrifying account of one human feasting upon another, in a display of raw, cold-blooded savagery.
Repentless, he gnawed on the remnants of his prey, a grotesque sight. Though on closer examination, he appeared plagued by decay, his wounds defied the look of a mortal man. His mouth bared no lips to cloak his teeth and his cheekbones protrude as if they’d outgrown the skin. While his mind, the most harrowing of all, was a harsh cacophony of countless voices.
In the distance, a sound occurred, then abruptly ceased, and despite the feasting man’s difficulty in hearing amidst the bedlam that clouded his mind, it managed to capture his attention. The flesh slipped from his grasp, like a dog would drop a bone for a fresh pig’s foot. As he stood, his bones would strain and crack under his weight, yet not a trace of pain graced his expression. He stumbled and slipped his way through nettles and thorns like a drunkard after a night in the Obsidian Cellar.
As he approached the origin of the haunting sound, an imposing obelisk of oak and leaves loomed above, piercing the tormenting clouds. Yet, his attention was fixated closer to the ground, where a thick branch beckoned. Suddenly peculiar clarity overcame his mind, teasing his senses with fleeting moments of lucidity.
S___ry fr_e__nd… S_o_ry fr__nd… S_r__ry fr_i_nd… Sorry friend…
He croaked, struggling to form the words, ‘S… ry… fr… nd.’
His gaze remained fixed upon the sight that had interrupted his thoughts—an eerie figure suspended by their neck, dangling lifelessly.
Drawn towards the river by an inexplicable magnetism, he stumbled downhill with the gracelessness of a rodent chasing a putrid odour. As he descended, his mind swiftly regressed back into chaos, the momentary clarity shattered. His descent became a series of awkward stumbles, his jacket snagged on clawing branches, it tore the fabric and exposed his inside pocket. Amid the disarray, something slipped out—a wallet, its trajectory determined by gravity. It tumbled relentlessly until it reached the very bottom of the hill, where the river awaited. Finally, it came to a halt on a small patch of level ground, exposing a picture held within the transparent plastic opening.
Struggling halfway up the hill, our decaying friend lost his balance, crashing face-first into the unforgiving ground. His thoughts screamed in chaos as he desperately attempted to regain his footing, precariously teetering on the brink of stability. With both palms planted firmly on the surface, he summoned the strength to lift his chest from the dirt, but in that fleeting moment, a sickening crack reverberated through his body. A second crack followed suit as his arms gave way, snapping at the wrists. At that precise moment, his gaze fixated upon a white rabbit, close enough to discern every detail. Once again, a miraculous surge of lucidity overtook him.
L__k d_d__y, a l_o_k r_bi_t… l__k da d_a_y, a ddy r_i__t… rab… L_o_k bit, d__d_y a r___t… Look Daddy, a rabbit…
“Dad… y… bit,” he croaks, his voice filled with sorrow.
Rolling to his side, propelled by an instinctual persistence, he refused to remain stagnant. With the aid of the hill’s slant, he manoeuvred his decaying body, eventually managing to roll himself onto his unsteady feet. Slowly, he embarked on a stumbling descent down the hill, each step a testament to his unwavering determination. Gradually, he reached the edge of the river, where the flowing waters await his arrival.
In awe, he gazed upon the water, captivated by the sight of white-rapids cascading with relentless power. As he immersed himself in the mesmerising display, the roaring waters drowned out the excruciating trauma inflicted by his inner monologue.
His gaze gradually descended to the edge of the river, mere inches away. With a small and cautious step forward, his attention was suddenly drawn to a familiar object — his own wallet. Unaware of his fractured state of mind, the realisation that it belonged to him wouldn’t have naturally crossed his shattered thoughts. Slowly, he inclined himself, seeking a closer glimpse. Within the wallet, a picture revealed the visage of an extraordinary woman. She possessed a cascade of dark, black silk-like hair, deep brown eyes that emanated warmth, and a complexion as pale and radiant as the enchanting elves found within the pages of fantasy fiction. In the photograph, she wore an expression of pure joy, her left hand clasping the arm of the man standing beside her. A glimmering wedding ring adorned her finger. A flicker of clarity took hold.
S__o b__eauti__ful, t__he m__ost b__ea__u__ti__ful b__ea__ut__i__ful… Beth.
With an excruciating bellow, as if gasping for air, he released the name, ‘Beth!’
He reached for the wallet but was met with disappointment as his broken wrists rendered his hands useless. Clearly distressed he tried to clutch the wallet containing the picture of his beloved wife. He flipped and tossed the wallet into the river. Without a single glimpse of thought he joined the wallet. Like a paper boat vanishing into the dark abyss of a sewer drain, he was gone.
///
Returning to the place where our decaying soul had first emerged, amidst the melodic serenade of birds welcoming the rising sun through the rustling trees, a different tale unfolded—a tale of profound loss. The once enchanting whispers of the wind now morphed into chilling murmurs, as if concealing a malevolence that seeped through the very air. Within the unsettling silence, a sinister presence emerged, casting a shallow and haunting shadow upon the once-beautiful woods.
Amidst this grim scene, a lone figure lay motionless and half eaten, wearing a tattered and torn t-shirt reminiscent of the Obsidian Cellar bar staff. On her chest, a name tag faintly gleamed, revealing a name.
“Beth.”