by Power, Max
Only one person ever knew the exact location where Honey Meade had been found in Darkly Wood and that was the man who found her, Terrance Darkly. Had he been alive when they discovered Hattie Grey’s body, he could have told them of the coincidence that Hattie was discovered in exactly the same spot where he had discovered Honey. Had he been alive, perhaps he would have discovered that Hattie died in exactly the same fashion and that her bloodied corpse was found prone in the exact same position as his dear sweet Honey.
Hattie once mentioned, only in passing mind to a friend, that love was a peculiar kind of thief. It stole your time she said and no one really knew what she meant by that. Of course for Hattie, her unrequited love for Honey had left her desperately sad and lonely throughout her life, despite the very convincing front that she put on for others. She had felt that Love was a destructive force for her, preventing her from finding the type of happiness that others found within relationships. Hattie had never felt complete. It was that feeling that made her think that Love had stolen away her time. It was that precise feeling that ultimately led her back to Honey, back to the same fate, back to Darkly Wood.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX – MAELSTROM
Daisy rubbed her eyes and looked up again. When she did, the feet were no longer there. It startled her and she pushed herself up using both of her arms. There was no one there at all and Daisy still filled with adrenalin, sprang to her feet and spun around. She was completely alone.
“What the...”
She could not believe what her eyes were telling her. Much like before when she had fallen into the pond only to re-emerge onto an unknown track, Daisy now stood in a strange and unfamiliar clearing. Her brain was completely addled. It felt like someone was playing tricks on her.
The track that she had been sprinting along was no longer there. It was gone completely. Instead, she stood in a large open clearing, surrounded and closed in on all sides by the gnarled trees of Darkly Wood. The floor of the clearing was covered with dead and rotting leaves and strangely, it had begun to get a little brighter again.
Daisy was confused. It was as though Darkly Wood had no boundaries in relation to time and space. Things changed in the closing of an eye and there was no warning. Her sense of confidence and fearlessness had left her and something more unpleasant had taken their place.
Frightened, Daisy surveyed the clearing, taking special care to check for the owner of the feet that she had seen when she hit the ground, but Daisy was definitely alone. For a moment she considered calling out for Benjamin, but she thought it might be best to keep quiet for the time being as she had no idea where she was, or indeed just quite what was happening. The numbness that had overtaken her earlier was gone. Daisy had found fear again. It was returning with vengeance.
Quite suddenly and from out of nowhere in particular, a swift chill breeze, rifled among the leaves of the forest floor, kicking them up in a small swirling pattern that moved randomly across the clearing. There was a whisper in the trees above as the few leaves that clung to the blackened trees, shimmied and rustled overhead. Something was watching her. Daisy felt it and the very idea increased her fear. Maybe, she thought, it was Woody. Such a notion did nothing to lessen the dread as Daisy remembered their last encounter. She shivered.
Between the rustle above and the leaves rushing about her feet, the small clearing became quite a noisy little place. Somewhere, just below the surface noise, Daisy heard another sound. It was an altogether more familiar sound, but she couldn’t quite make it out. As though the forest didn’t want her to hear whatever it was that was trying to creep in under the radar, the wind intensified, whipping the leaves ever higher, in a growing spiral.
More leaves fell from the sky above and pretty soon she was engulfed in a maelstrom of forest debris. Daisy closed her eyes against the dust that blew about her face and covered her head with her arms in a desperate effort to protect herself, against the violent little storm that swept through the clearing.
It seemed as though the whole forest had gone crazy. It was noisy and violent and wild and Daisy thought it would never stop. But it did. As quickly as it had become manifest from nothing, so too it dissipated, so swiftly that it surprised Daisy. Bizarrely, the wind died, the leaves becalmed and the trees above stopped moving in a glorious instantaneous moment, where everything simply stopped. Daisy lowered her arms and opened her eyes. Her hair had been blown across her face and she looked like a wild thing of the forest herself.
As soon as the wind died and the wood calmed down, something big and heavy came thundering downward, dropping vertically from the trees above. It landed dead square in front of the spot where Daisy stood and the first thing she noticed was its feet. They were the same feet that she had seen when she had fallen flat on her face minutes before. This time however, she had time to do more than just catch a glimpse of the feet that came from nowhere. Daisy could follow the feet from their bare filthy toes, all the way up along the body that they supported, to the tip of the head that chose the direction they took. This time she could see that the feet, belonged to Woody.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN – PREY WITH NO VALUE
For Benjamin, everything seemed strange yet familiar. The whole journey had been a mixed up series of confused moments. Half of the time, he had been too ill or even too out of it to know what was going on. From one moment to the next, Benjamin hadn’t felt right. He had been feeling pretty bad in general lately, but now for some reason it had become worse.
The common factor in his deteriorating condition had been Daisy May. Whatever it was about her, whenever he was with her, strange things happened. It wasn’t right. Perhaps she wasn’t right. From the first day that he met her, Benjamin had a sense that something important was in the air. It seemed she was intimately tied up in his destiny, although how a boy so young could feel the weight of destiny or fate on his shoulders, Benjamin did not comprehend. He only knew that it was there. He only knew that it came as part of the package that was Daisy May Coppertop. She had led him into Darkly Wood and then deeper still inside its secret centre, in pursuit of the mysterious boy. He hadn’t even seen him at first. Blindly following Daisy May, Benjamin had found himself in mortal danger and that it would seem, was all down to her.
She was so beautiful and he was completely and utterly enthralled by her. Daisy mesmerized him and that added to his confusion. It was only natural for a young man to fall for an attractive young girl. But this was different. How he was drawn to Daisy May, seemed different. Although he didn’t understand it and certainly couldn’t explain it, Benjamin was under her spell for better or for worse. The only thing he felt certain of was that he couldn’t escape.
The biggest conundrum for Benjamin lay at the heart of his journey. The primary question for him now was how on earth had he become embroiled in this crazy episode in the first place? The muzzy-fuzziness that blurred his every thought was all pervasive. It was like when you knew there was something that you are supposed to remember, but for the life of you, you can’t! The feeling was very frustrating. It was the word on the tip of his tongue, the familiarity that something fresh might bring, despite its complete newness. It was unpleasant and disorientating.
Benjamin felt as though he had lost a vital part of his memory. Daisy May and Darkly Wood were blocking his clarity and he just wanted to get out of the place. Unfortunately for Benjamin, even though she had gone on without him, Daisy May was a constant in his head. He worried about her, thought about her, wanted to help and protect her.
Benjamin thought that this might be the thing that people called love. Never having been in love before, he really didn’t know. The sheer obsession was overwhelming even through his weakest moments. By the time Daisy had vanished across the tree branch and gone on without him, Benjamin was a physical wreck. He had no sense of time, place, or direction anymore and had no idea of how long he had been in the Wood.
It was a horrible place, he thought. Worse than his obsession with Daisy May, the thi
ng that truly clouded his thoughts and judgment was the fog of the forest that blurred his every move. The further in he went, the weaker he became. Darkly Wood seemed to sap every ounce of strength and resilience from Benjamin. It was as though the forest was suffocating him.
Oddly, despite his two mind warping obsessions, all Benjamin could think of was carrying on. He wanted to drag himself through the Wood against his better judgment and to follow Daisy May to protect her. Benjamin knew that this place was filled with danger. It was not right, but he had massive need to go after Daisy May. He had no idea what sense drove him to complete this seemingly ill-fated task, but it didn’t really matter because Benjamin was too weak to continue anyway.
Then quite suddenly, everything had changed. The change came in the shape of the creature they feared. Woody appeared from out of nowhere. He dropped in from an invisible perch, high up in the trees and hissed his longing hungry hiss. There was a long terrifying silence as the creature shifted ever so slowly from side to side. For some time they just considered each other. Initially, fear took complete hold of Benjamin and although he tried hard to overcome it, the fear was too strong. Woody was too imposing, too threatening, too terrifying. The creature gave nothing away and Benjamin tried unsuccessfully to hide his fear.
Benjamin had realised that the creature was curious. He was desperate and afraid, but somehow summoned up the courage to try and communicate with the beast-boy once more. Perhaps he thought, he could talk his way out of danger.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
He asked the question softly but his voice only seemed to anger the thing that threatened him. It hissed a sharp shrill screech, clawed its hands as though about to strike, and Benjamin covered his face. When the creature did not attack, but instead just stood there cocking its head as if listening to something in the distance, Benjamin tried again.
“Who are you?” He had asked again and then the creature that he called Woody, poked at him inquisitively.
His first thought was that he could reason with the beast, but then Woody hissed at him once more, this time showing his full array of carnivorous sharp, angry teeth.
The creature lurched back and then rose to his full height before he lashed out with its hand, or claw, Benjamin could not quite tell what it was. It was a strange and horrible thing that dangled from the too-short tattered old jacket sleeves. It seemed neither to belong to man nor beast and the very sight of it brought a cold terror to Benjamin’s heart. Benjamin closed his eyes, barely able to muster the strength to brace against the blow. As expected, the blow came, but unexpectedly, something else happened.
Benjamin felt the strike and it was as sharp as it was hard, rocking him back sideways against the tree behind him and into a useless heap on the ground. But there was something else in his blow. Benjamin opened his eyes again and looked up at the creature. Woody was panting as though the effort he had made to land the strike, had been so great, that it had taken all of his energy. It had been an angry blow, although looking at him now, Benjamin saw nothing like anger on the face of the beast.
Woody, looked confused. He was still raised up to his full height, his overlong arms dangling by his sides, panting and watching Benjamin with a look of puzzlement on his face. Benjamin sat up. The weakness that had felled him earlier and filled his stomach with nausea was gone. Then, even surprising himself, he pushed his arms down against the ground and used them as levers to straighten his body. Not knowing why or quite how, he went further still. Benjamin stood up to face Woody. Standing there before the monster of the Wood, Benjamin felt something familiar. He remembered something and he looked the beast in the eyes.
Woody felt it too. There was recognition, a shared moment, a memory perhaps. Neither recognised it for what it was for a few moments, but it was there nonetheless and it couldn’t be denied. In that one enlightened moment, so much became clear, to both of them. Woody heard the sounds that Benjamin made and their distant, faint vague familiarity suddenly became positively logical. For Benjamin, the clarity was not just of mind but of body. Then most unexpectedly, Woody turned his back on Benjamin. He meant nothing to the beast. As far as Woody was concerned now, only Daisy May mattered. He understood his mission and had been distracted by this trifling matter. He should never have wasted his time with such a trivial creature.
Benjamin watched Woody skulk away. Once, the creature glanced back with a look that could only be disdain on its face. Somehow, Benjamin had regained his strength and his composure in those few moments with the beast. Although he knew the power that Woody possessed, he was no longer afraid of the boy-beast. Benjamin knew now, that he could not let fear get in his way. He was enlightened and the fog had cleared, albeit temporarily. It would descend again soon, as soon perhaps as when Woody would spring up into the trees and away out of sight on a mission of his own. It wouldn’t matter though, because whatever else happened now, in that moment of clarity, Benjamin knew exactly what he must do.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT – ELAINE MORTIMER
The last recorded death connected to Darkly Wood, occurred just two years before Daisy and Benjamin entered the forest together. As it happened, it was two years to the day, but that was nothing more than a strange coincidence. Like all of the people who died or disappeared there, the circumstances surrounding the young girl’s death were shrouded in mystery and confusion. However, unlike many a previous mystery, the speculation about the person in question was done with an air of uneasy confidence, for who can speculate about such tragedy without some discomfort.
The cause of death was known. Indeed the cause of death was the reason for much of the speculation. The young girl was Elaine Mortimer and she was found hanging from a tree, just inside the first and least intimidating layer of the Wood. The rope which she had used was perfect for the job in question. It was a thick sturdy length of fibrous rope, not dissimilar to the type of thing a professional hangman might have used. The knot was a beauty. A piece of scouting perfection if ever there was one and it slipped and held for its grim purpose, just as required.
If all and sundry hadn’t been so positive that her death was suicide, they would surely have suspected foul play. It seemed peculiar that a girl so young could have accessed such perfect tools and crafted such perfect execution of her own hanging. But apparently she did. Her neck was broken. She left no note, no clue as to her reasons, although there was plenty for folk to speculate about in this regard. Elaine was just thirteen years old.
Her father and mother had lived in Cranby all of their lives. Eddie was a bricklayer, a kindly hardworking man, whose father before him was a stone mason. He was a quiet man who kept himself to himself, liked an occasional drink, but rarely stayed late in the pub like many of his contemporaries. Eddie was a family man. That he kept his own council and didn’t enjoy the company of others was of course, taken as another cause for speculation after the tragedy.
Elaine’s mother was similarly a woman who liked to keep herself to herself. Quiet like Eddie, but more friendly and liked by most folk in the town, Emma was a housewife and she had married Eddie when she was very young. Her life was it seemed her husband and her three children, all of whom appeared unremarkable to the world at large, at least in the grand scheme of things.
There was Edward, their eldest, nineteen and heading off to university in the autumn, the excitement of his adventure gurgling through his veins with each day that passed. Rebecca was the middle child, sixteen years old and always the precocious one. But she was a lovely girl, always willing to help, always happy to oblige anyone and everyone. No one had a bad word to say about her and most including her siblings, suspected that Rebecca was the favourite. Her brother and sister didn’t mind. In truth, she was everyone’s favourite.
Elaine was the baby. She was always a little melancholy, although never depressive. Her family considered her a thoughtful soul, who seemed most content with her nose in a book. She loved to read, but although she had indeed a permanent expres
sion of sadness, Elaine was generally a contented little girl without a care in the world.
Immediately before the awful tragedy, not one person suspected a thing. Elaine was always quiet in school and at home, so her frequent solitary strolls were of no real obvious significance or consequence to her family. She loved nature and her parents liked that she got out and about occasionally, instead of locking herself in her room reading all of the time. In the days and weeks before her tragic death, there was nothing unusual about her appearance, general demeanor or activity. She was just the same as always and that was in many ways, what disturbed her family the most after her death.
They all felt a terrible guilt that none of them, individually or collectively had noticed anything out of the ordinary. How could she have been so desperate to be driven to such a dreadful act without offering some clue? They all believed that she must have tried to communicate whatever was on her mind to them. They all thought that they must have missed the signals. The feeling that it left was indescribable. Not one of them believed that they would ever recover and her mother really didn’t want to. Her guilt demanded forgiveness and the mysterious nature of her baby’s death, meant that such a thing would never be forthcoming. Most of us can only imagine a pain like that.
The day that Elaine disappeared was one like any other. Although few knew her routine when she went walking, it was nothing particularly special. Almost every time she went walking, Elaine followed the same path, took the same time and repeated a pattern that she had repeated over and over again, so much so, that Elaine operated pretty much on auto pilot.
What no one knew was, that as she wandered across the meadow that led up to Darkly Wood, Elaine would day-dream and create stories in her head. At night when there was no one around to see her, Elaine wrote her stories down in an immaculate dainty hand. She filled hard covered note book after notebook with them, which she hid on top of her wardrobe. No story was given the gift of ink until it had been fully imagined on her walks. Sometimes it would take her weeks to get a story right in her head, but it didn’t matter. Every detail had to be right before she would start to actually write. As such Elaine was, contrary to what her death suggested, at her happiest when out walking.
