Forest of the Damned

by Lee Mountford

  James didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t have to. ‘I know what you mean,’ Ken said. ‘I just wish I knew what happened to him. I can’t understand it.’

  ‘Do you believe what Roberta said? About her seeing him get taken in the night?’

  Ken sighed and shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know. I have no reason not to believe her, given what we’ve all experienced. But this is all hard for me to get my head around.’

  James nodded. ‘Agreed. But you think that Tony could still be alive?’

  Ken didn’t answer, because he didn’t know how to. Instead, he let the silence hang. Ken wanted Tony to still be alive, to be out there, somewhere, waiting for them to find him. That’s what his heart told him. But his head—cold and logical—told a different story. It told him that it was too late for his friend, and if they didn’t get out of the Black Forest soon, they would all meet a similar fate.

  ‘We should get moving,’ Ken said, shifting the topic of conversation. ‘Get some breakfast to give us energy, then go.’

  ‘Are you still okay with that?’ James asked. ‘The plan of getting out of here, I mean. Even without…’

  Yet again, James trailed off, not needing to finish.

  Ken nodded. ‘It’s the right thing to do. Might not feel like it, but it is, I guess.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll go wake Roberta.’

  James patted Ken on the shoulder as he passed, leaving Ken to get to work pulling together a quick and basic breakfast for them all.

  Roberta soon emerged from her tent with James, looking even worse than she had the previous day. Her skin had paled further, and she’d lost just about all of her healthy Mediterranean complexion. Amazingly, she seemed to be even more gaunt as well and looked positively anorexic. Ken had to stop from letting his mouth hang open in shock at her appearance. Could someone really lose that much weight in such a short span of time without being ill?

  And that, of course, raised more questions. What if she was ill? And, if so, what kind of illness could have done something so drastic to her in just a few days?

  On top of that, her eyes looked heavy, with dark rings circling the undersides. The whites were severely bloodshot and her hair looked thin and greasy, making her scalp visible beneath.

  Ken made a note to speak to James about it in private. If they did make it out of the forest alive, then Roberta needed to see a doctor urgently.

  With breakfast finished and the tents packed away, Ken consulted his compass and notes to check on progress. He was confident they were heading in the right direction, roughly, though nothing really looked familiar from their journey in. There was every chance, however, that they were coming out along a slightly different line, but still in the same general direction, so he wasn’t too concerned. As long as they got clear of the forest, finding the car from there would be a simple task of skirting the edge until they came across it.

  It was a little before nine in the morning when they set off again, this time walking side by side where space allowed, the previous single-file formation abandoned. The weather was cold now, colder than it had been the rest of the week. And no more than an hour into their trek, another bout of rain began. It started light, but within the space of twenty minutes came crashing down. The wind again picked up as well, just as it had the day before, and it whipped around them, harshly blowing the driving rain into their faces.

  If this wasn’t a full storm, then Ken thought it surely wasn’t far off from being one.

  Progress slowed as the three of them had to constantly shield their eyes from the torrential onslaught as it drove into their faces.

  It almost seemed to Ken like something was trying to hinder their escape. And, if that was true, and whatever entity resided here could dictate the very weather… well, that made him feel truly insignificant.

  Like they could all be picked off at will. Just as Tony had been.

  Come midday, they had not made anywhere near the progress Ken had hoped for, having been slowed considerably by the adverse conditions. The ground had practically become a bog they needed to wade through, and on more than one occasion one of them had lost their footing. By the time they stopped for a break, hiding beneath the canopy of a tree, they were all filthy—coated in mud and drenched to the core. Their waterproof clothing wasn’t able to withstand the constant and heavy sheets of rain, with the branches above not affording much protection at all.

  ‘How much longer do you think this will keep up?’ James asked, shouting over the howling wind.

  ‘I have no idea,’ Ken yelled back. The storm, such as it was, showed no signs of diminishing. The sky above, covered with black clouds, was as dark as a late dusk.

  They were all breathing heavily, showing signs of the exertions they had been making over the last three hours. But they had yielded minimal results. Ken knew that even if they could pick up the pace for the remainder of the day, it was unlikely they would get clear of the forest—not before morning, at least.

  Which meant they would have to spend another night here. And while last night had passed without incident, Ken had a horrible feeling they would not be as lucky a second time. Ken let himself drop back against the trunk of the tree they were under and tried to get his breathing under control. He pondered what they should do: get some more food in their stomachs to give them a little more energy, or just push on?

  Progress would still be slow, but it would be preferable to not moving at all. However, realistically, how much longer could they keep going like this?

  He looked off through the pouring rain. It might take everything they had in their tank, but he knew they needed to get out of here today—camping again could not be an option.

  Whatever it took, even if they had to push themselves to the point of failure, it had to be done.

  As he continued looking out into the trees, Ken’s breath suddenly caught in his throat.

  After seeing the first one, he looked around to see another. And another. How had he missed something so obvious.

  There were scores of them standing out there in the pouring rain, stock-still, between trees that now appeared to have blackened.

  Their ruined clothing looked hundreds of years old, given the basic styling, and their mangled and rotting bodies showed they were not among the living.

  However, they were not like the corpse guide Ken had seen yesterday, either. These things were different.

  Their faces… oh God, their faces: twisted and inhuman.

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ James cried out in utter terror, finally seeing the same thing. There was no way all three of them could have missed these horrors until now, which suggested to Ken that silent watchers had only just made themselves known.

  He quickly turned to run, but his right leg did not move as intended, and he instead fell to the wet earth, sinking into it. He turned in the mud as rain splashed all around him and saw that something was holding on to him, protruding from the ground and grasping onto his ankle.

  An arm had snaked up from the mud, adorned in tattered and decomposing flesh. The fingers of its hand gripped tighter.

  Ken screamed.

  23

  Upon seeing the monstrosities spread out in the trees ahead of them, James instinctively grabbed Roberta’s arm and ran, dragging her along behind him. It was the opposite direction from the one they needed to go to escape, but that mattered little, given what they faced.

  The only thing that stopped him in his tracks was the yell from Ken.

  ‘Help!’

  James turned to see Ken on the ground, struggling with something on his leg. It took James a moment to realise what was emerging from the mud, and he could scarcely believe it.

  An arm had taken hold of Ken, who struggled against it. The body that was attached to the appendage then pulled itself from the mud, rising up into a sitting position; it was little more than a skeleton, with sparse chunks of mottled flesh clinging to the bones.

  ‘Help!’ Ken screamed again, wrestling wit
h the impossible thing.

  James froze for a moment, debating turning tail and fleeing with Roberta. The impulse was strong, but he managed to overcome his survival instinct and sprint back to Ken. It was a short distance to cover, and those things out in the trees did not appear to be moving any closer.

  And James was also well aware that Ken was useful to him, being the best prepared among them to survive out in the wilderness. A sharp contrast to what James had previously thought about their leader. Now he was the one James felt they needed most to survive.

  And perhaps that thought was what caused him to act so quickly: not out of concern or some altruistic drive, just simple necessity.

  James quickly reached Ken and grabbed the man’s flailing arm, yanking him with as much strength as he could gather. Thankfully, it was enough, with the muddy ground giving little resistance. This allowed James to pull Ken free of the grasp of the skeletal thing. Ken slipped through the mud and kicked away the reaching hands.

  When James pulled Ken completely free and up to his feet, they both ran, quickly reaching Roberta and then heading farther into the trees, away from the mass of bodies that had barricaded their way out.

  The rain still pelted down at a ferocious rate and the wind battered the group as they ran, blindly, without paying any real attention to the direction they moved. They just concentrated on getting away from the horrors behind them, ducking and weaving through the trees, hoping to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the demons they had just seen.

  James’ lungs soon began to burn in protest and a fiery stitch developed in his side. He heaved and panted, but still forced his body to move as quickly as it could, powering through the mud. Eventually, however, his untrained body could take no more, and he had to stop before he fell.

  ‘I can’t…’ he wheezed out, unable to finish. Ken and Roberta halted their progress and turned around. They both looked exhausted as well, and concern for James forced them to stop.

  Ken jogged back to him and tried to pull James on. ‘We need to keep going,’ he urged.

  James tried, pushing himself off again, but managed less than a hundred paces before he fell to the ground. James knew he wasn’t the fittest person in the world, but ever since he’d awakened that morning, he had felt much weaker than usual. Something was wrong.

  ‘I can’t,’ he repeated between breaths. ‘I need to stop.’

  James then looked back, letting his eyes scour the direction they had all come from, but he saw nothing following them. He also noted that the rain and wind had eased up.

  ‘Okay,’ Ken said, finally. ‘But we can’t stop for long. Those things could be close behind.’

  James nodded, all too aware of that fact, and he gulped down large swathes of air in an attempt to sooth his burning lungs.

  Roberta stood silently nearby, just staring at James. But her eyes were vacant, as if she were looking right through him. James wasn’t even sure that she was registering the danger they were in, danger that felt very real and urgent. Things had been bad before, of course, with Tony going missing. Although, there was always the chance, however slight, that something explainable had happened to him—that they weren’t up against and hunted by some unexplainable force.

  But that uncertainty was gone now. And worse, whatever evil was behind all of this, it didn’t look like it wanted to let them leave the forest and had blocked their escape. Before he could stop it, an uncontrollable panic rose up from James’ gut and settled in his chest and caused it to tighten, making his breathing difficult.

  James had never been one to suffer from panic attacks, but that changed in an instant, and he started to hyperventilate.

  ‘Keep calm,’ Ken told him, without sounding it himself. He squatted down next to James. ‘Breathe deeply.’

  James tried, but it seemed beyond him to halt the feeling of utter helplessness that was overwhelming him. ‘We’re going to die here, aren’t we,’ James stated.

  ‘No,’ Ken stated. ‘No, we aren’t. But we need to keep our heads.’

  James buried his face in his hands and started to sob, unable to stop himself—the weight of the situation taking hold. At that moment, he felt like even trying to save themselves was an exercise in futility.

  He then heard Roberta chuckle.

  ‘So weak,’ she said in a soft yet condescending voice. ‘Weak little man.’

  A flash of anger pierced James’ feeling of helplessness. He still couldn’t understand why his girlfriend was being like this, getting more and more uncaring and cruel. And now, after seeing him in such a desperate way, she had decided to mock him.

  ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ he snapped, jumping up to his feet. ‘Seriously, what has got into your fucking head?’

  ‘Don’t shout at me!’ Roberta screamed back, the vacant look on her face replaced by a sudden rage. ‘I’ll claw your fucking eyes out.’

  ‘Roberta, James,’ Ken said, holding up his hands. ‘Stop it, both of you. Please.’

  ‘Fuck you,’ Roberta said. ‘Fuck you both. Acting like you know what’s going on. Always thinking you’re in control. Well, you’re not now, are you? You’re lost and scared. Scared little boys.’

  ‘No, Roberta,’ James said. ‘We’re lost. We’re all lost, and we’re all in danger. That includes you.’

  Roberta just shrugged. ‘Then why am I not worried?’

  ‘Honestly?’ James asked. ‘Because I think you’re losing it. Your mind has snapped, and you’re going fucking crazy. You’re not worried because you no longer understand the situation.’

  She then laughed again. ‘Oh, I understand things just fine, James. Much more than you do. But, for what it’s worth, you are right about one thing. You are going to die. And soon.’

  ‘Fuck you!’ James replied and took a step towards her, the rage that coursed through his body now rising in intensity. He felt Ken’s meaty palm on his chest, stopping him from going any farther forward.

  ‘Leave it,’ Ken said. ‘We don’t need this right now.’

  James looked at the older man, knowing that he was probably right. It didn’t sit well with James, however, and as he turned back to Roberta, he saw her smile at him like a spoiled child, giving him a wave in the process. She was clearly taunting him, actually wanting him to react.

  And boy, did he want to react.

  But he didn’t. He managed to swallow down his anger again, like he had the previous night, and tried to ignore her, turning instead back to Ken. ‘Okay, I’ll leave it. But what do we do now?’

  However, Ken wasn’t looking at James, but behind him, off into the distance. And the older man’s face had drained of blood.

  ‘We run,’ Ken said. James turned as well, gasping in horror upon seeing those things again. They had returned—the entities from before—and once again waited among the trees, less than a hundred metres away from the group. They watched on with hungry, yellow eyes, and their faces had twisted into something… unexplainable.

  Something inhuman.

  James didn’t need to be told again, and he followed Ken’s lead, forcing himself to move. This time, however, he did not grab Roberta’s arm to pull her with them. She did follow on her own, though, and kept pace.

  A pang of guilt swelled through James as he realised he’d let her behaviour affect him so much that he was actually willing to leave her behind. Regardless of how fucking strangely she was acting, had things really come to that?

  The thought was quickly pushed from his mind as the need to survive took over instead. He followed Ken, who was up ahead, and the man suddenly bore right with a shriek. James was confused at first, but then he saw one of those things ahead, unnaturally tall, with half of its gangly, naked body exposed from behind a black tree. James followed Ken, avoiding the monstrosity in front of him.

  Every time he cast a glance back over his shoulder, James saw those things. Though they always appeared stock-still, they were always there, somehow keeping pace with the pr
ogress the group was making, appearing whenever James’ eyes turned to look back.

  ‘We need to move quicker!’ James shouted with what little breath he had in his lungs. The stitch had returned, but he didn’t have the luxury to stop.

  They sprinted for what seemed like an eternity through the forest as the rain and wind died down to nothing. James let himself look back again and saw that they were finally gone, no longer in pursuit.

  ‘Wait,’ he heard Ken call out, but it was too late. By the time James had turned to look back ahead, he had already passed Ken, and hadn’t seen the reason both he and Roberta had stopped.

  James felt his legs kick out at open air for a moment before he fell down a sharp slope, one he hadn’t even known was there. Head over heels he tumbled, rolling down the slick, muddy surface of the steep hill. He eventually skidded to a stop on his back two-thirds of the way down, his body ravaged with pain, having hit loose branches and rocks on the way down.

  He let out a groan and opened his eyes, panic still coursing through him. As James looked out ahead, his body froze.

  Ancient, dilapidated wooden houses sat between the trees before him, clustered around fairly open ground where the trees were much less dense. Behind the circle of houses stood a stone structure, one that resembled a simple church.

  James instantly knew what this was—the very same thing Ken had found earlier, only in an entirely different place.

  It was the lost village.

  24

  Ken was quick to make his way down towards James, who had now reached the bottom of the slope. Roberta followed behind carefully—uneasy on her feet as she, too, made the descent. When they all gathered at the base, Ken stepped forward, scarcely believing what lay before them.

  It was the same cluster of buildings he had seen yesterday, of that he had no doubt. There were basic houses consisting of timber walls and doors—although many had fallen from their hinges—and pitched roofs constructed from rudimentary tiles or thatched straw. The windows to the houses were small, single-pane affairs with rotted wooden frames.