by Power, Max
For a moment in the presence of the creature, the noise faded but only slightly. John couldn’t move a muscle. He tried to shout, to call Benjamin’s name, but he couldn’t move his mouth. John Blood had suffered a massive stroke. The creature was slavering over his helpless body and as far as John knew, it was still holding Benjamin captive.
Woody spun his long filthy fingers in circles around his thumbs. He then closed the fingers of his right hand, save for his index finger. At the end of his pale digit, was the sharpest, most vile finger nail that John had ever seen. Woody wiggled it back and forth in front of John’s face where he could see it clearly. Then, in a swift smooth motion, he swept his hand around and pressed his nail against John’s neck. Had he been able to feel anything there, John would have felt a nail as sharp and as strong as a hunter’s knife. It was no ordinary nail. That thing was more like a talon.
Woody had caught the man who had escaped his grasp once before and he could barely contain his glee. He wanted to gloat. He took his long claw-nail and drew it across John’s neck, severing his vital arteries, spurting bright red blood into the forest in a fine spray. But before he let him die, while John Blood bled out helpless on the forest floor, Woody took his revenge. He had never forgotten the fact that John had escaped and it had rankled with him ever since.
So Woody would slash John Blood’s throat and let him bleed to death on the floor of Darkly Wood. He would leave the man helpless and hopeless, knowing that he had lost. But before he finished John off, Woody dragged the limp body of John’s son Benjamin into his line of sight. He held the boy’s face close to John’s paling face, so that he could see it. In a moment dark enough to shrivel John’s fading heart; Woody clasped the boy’s face between both hands. In a shocking, evil, repulsive motion, Woody flicked out his long purple tongue and very slowly licked Benjamin’s face from top to bottom. He tossed the unconscious boy aside, straddled John and returned his claw to John’s throat, all the while laughing, chortling, rocking with glee, Woody had more than taken his revenge but he still had one more intimate pleasure to enjoy. He took his final revenge and slashed John Blood’s terrified throat so violently, that he almost severed his head from his body.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX - REUNION
Although what happened to John Blood that day was significant to both Benjamin and Woody, neither surprisingly had a full recollection of events. For Woody, time was long and details were unimportant. He was a creature of the moment and although he had memories of each event in his long an illustrious life, Woody left most of the details behind. He was not one to dwell on the past. His blood lust drove him forward, always, although at times like in the case of John Blood, some significant detail remained with him. Woody had never lost before so it was unsurprising that he held on to that memory. Once he had dispatched the object of his hatred, the memory faded again. The Boy had meant nothing to him when he had first entered the forest with Daisy May. He had been just a mere minor detail from the events of his past. It took some time before Woody made any connection.
For Benjamin, it was somewhat different. Like Woody, he was a creature of the moment. But things had not always been that way for him. He saw neither the past nor the future in any true context. For some reason unknown to him, Benjamin lived in a shallow space around the present. He remembered the very recent past but no further and he understood some sense of destiny and that was the thing that drove him, although what that destiny was, he really didn’t know.
Benjamin didn’t know exactly how his father had died. How could he? He had not witnessed the actual event. But he knew that his father was dead. There was a buried memory or understanding there somewhere in his head that he couldn’t quite access. He knew other things too, that he felt surprised to discover he knew. He knew this place. Benjamin had been just as lost as Daisy in the beginning, but when Woody had come across him lying weak and alone in the forest not long after Daisy had left him, Benjamin had an epiphany of sorts.
Suddenly and quite surprisingly, he remembered Darkly Wood and he remembered it intimately. He had no idea why, but he did. He also knew that Daisy May was in great danger and that somehow, it was his job to protect her, to save her. In a peculiar way, Benjamin felt he had always been destined to find Daisy May. For some reason he was tied to her, yet he didn’t know why. His mind was a confusing place to be, because Benjamin knew so much and yet so little. He had old, old memories, yet few new ones. There were great big holes in his train of thought and no real sense of who he was or why he was in Darkly Wood, other than a vague notion of needing to help Daisy May. Benjamin simply did not know why and really didn’t need to.
He told Daisy May most of what he remembered and then he remembered something else. Like everything else about his journey, Benjamin was unclear about what significance his new recollection had, but he knew it was indeed significant. Just as he was ready to tell Daisy May about the thought that had struck him, they were interrupted in the most disturbing of ways.
Not for the first time, with a spring and a bounce upon landing, Woody appeared as if from nowhere. Enough had been enough and Woody was driven to action. With a whoosh and a soft thump he landed, exploding a flurry of leaves about him in all directions. Daisy May jumped with fright and grabbed hold of Benjamin.
Woody slowly straightened his back from the prone position that he had adopted on landing and stood to his full height. He cut an impressive, beastly sight. Now older looking than even before, Woody stood tall and proud, no longer the image of a boy, now a snarling, evil, fully mature beast of the Wood.
“Hisssssheeesssssh!”
His hissing snarl whistled around the clearing. It echoed about them left and right as though a dozen Woodys lay in wait, hiding just beyond the tree line. But there was only one Woody and this one was more than enough.
Neither Daisy nor Benjamin dared move as Woody straightened himself proudly. He hadn’t grown any since last they met, but he seemed larger somehow. Perhaps it was his bullish confident stance. Woody craned his neck, twisting it left and right, stretching out each stringy sinew and pulling his shoulders back.
“Hallo.” He almost sang the word.
His first offering was a stunning surprise. His attempt at ‘Hello’ sounded odd. His accent was hard to place. It sounded childlike but Woody’s voice was deeper now. He moved very slowly but not towards them, all the while fixing his big, dark eyes on Daisy May. Woody was starting to circle them as a beast might stalk his prey. They were trapped with nowhere to run, but the boy creature was clearly being cautious, or was there something else?
“Hallo,” he offered again, this time adding, “Daisee Mayee,”
Woody sounded foreign almost and he seemed completely disinterested in Benjamin.
“Daisee Mayee”
He repeated as though he liked the sound of her name, as if to emphasise his pleasure in hearing the name spoken with his own voice. Woody raised his chin and closed his eyes. He looked like a man hearing a beautiful musical note that needed to be savoured.
Benjamin took Daisy’s hand and stood by her side, a little to her front, ready to protect her from the creature. As he watched Woody, he remembered something again. But it was still a mixed up memory.
“Stay back!”
He demanded somewhat dramatically of the creature and Woody just kept on circling.
“Do you hear me? Stay back!” he insisted and this time Woody stopped and for the first time looked directly at Benjamin.
It sent a shiver of cold darkness straight through Benjamin’s body. What he recognised, what was familiar seemed just beyond his grasp, but he knew it was something terrible.
Woody for his part seemed annoyed at the distraction. He had no interest in Benjamin that much was clear. However, his insistent interruption meant he would have to deal with him. He sighed a heavy forlorn sigh and raised his beastly eyes to the heavens. The forest darkened along with Woody’s spirits and a rumble familiar to Daisy May, gathered somewhere high above
them in the canopy. Woody looked straight to and through Benjamin but the poor boy just couldn’t register it.
“Reeemember Meeeeh?”
His voice was a whisper that carried loudly and as he spoke, Woody pointed to Benjamin and then he clasped both of his hands to his chest to indicate that he was talking about himself. He didn’t need the theatrics. Benjamin understood the words that he spoke. Benjamin remembered alright, but only that they had met before.
He felt sure Woody meant something specific but still there was something missing.
It was the age old problem; nothing seemed to stick with him. He didn’t answer. For a few moments they all stood looking at each other in silence until in frustration, Woody gasped a gasp of exasperation.
“Baassssheeeesh!” It was the sound of annoyance.
He clasped his hands over his cheeks as if contemplating his next move. It was a gesture of pure frustration. After a few moments, he removed his hands from his face and began circling them again. This time, he looked at the forest floor as he moved. Daisy and Benjamin moved too. They rotated on the spot making sure to face Woody at all times, terrified to take their eyes off him for a moment.
“Benshameen Blud.”
His mispronunciation was delivered with a giggle and then he continued,
“I killed you papa.” Then he outright laughed. “Ah yesh, you reemember meeeh!”
Woody’s declaration brought the memory back more clear and vivid than ever before and suddenly as if he were watching a movie of his father’s death right then and there before him, Benjamin saw his father’s last moments replayed in his mind’s eye. Nothing was missing and he flinched at the clarity of his own recollection. It was the most horrific and traumatising moment of his life. Daisy May saw his reaction to Woody and knew something was wrong. But she had no idea of the terrible images that Benjamin was being shown.
It was the cruelest of cruel revelations. For someone who had spent so much time, shielded from the pain of the detailed memories that were hidden from him, it was unbearable to have them thrust upon him in such a fashion, all at once. Benjamin physically shook and paled even more than was normal for him. Daisy May couldn’t bear it. She grabbed Benjamin’s arm with both hands, squeezing him reassuringly. She knew something was seriously wrong. But Woody wasn’t finished with Benjamin. Not yet. He had no time for the boy and didn’t want to waste his time this way. Daisy May was all that he wanted, but the boy was still in his way. He needed to be taught a lesson. He needed to finish with him for once and for all.
Woody had a memory problem too. Although he could remember now what had happened with Benjamin’s father, although he could put those thoughts in the boy’s head, Woody could not recall the true significance of what happened. He was a creature of instinct, pure instinct. His response to everything that came across his path was reactive and primitive. He was reacting now in the only way he knew, but Woody wasn’t thinking any further than the moment.
“You reemember Meeeh Benshamin,” Woody almost instructed, “I killed you too boy,” he announced gleefully, enjoying Benjamin’s discomfort. “Didn’t I?”
Once again and for the first time he felt sure, Benjamin saw the moment of his own death. His father laid dead, a crumpled bloody mess on the forest floor and he was being held up by his chin in Woody’s vile claws. Benjamin recalled the feeling of helplessness and it filled him all over again. Woody was all powerful. That was his clearest memory, but he could not recall why he felt so helpless. Woody helped him remember. He was really enjoying the moment.
Slowly, he swiveled his hips so they could see his back. He reached around with his right hand and tapped the centre of the top of his spine with his index finger. Daisy had no idea what he was doing. But it only took a moment for Benjamin to register what he meant. Very slowly, he reached his own hand over his shoulder and around to the back of his own neck. He felt the high ridged rough scar with his fingers and Daisy pulled back his collar to have a look too. She saw the scar but didn’t know what it meant. Benjamin did. How could he have ever forgotten such a thing?
He remembered all too clearly. His memory brought him back to that day when Woody had lured him into the Wood and had planned to kill him. But there was something about the boy’s smell that intrigued the beast. Quickly he recognised a familiar scent that had angered him and Woody knew it was the same scent he had tracked, traced and lost in the Wood many years earlier. It was the smell of the boy’s father. So, instead of killing Benjamin straight away, he decided to use him as bait first.
It was very easy. He dropped from the trees above and enveloped Benjamin’s arms with his own long muscular appendages before expertly slicing into the top of Benjamin’s spine with his blade-like finger nails. How simple. He was an expert hunter. Woody knew how to immobilise or paralyze all creatures of the Wood. After all he had centuries of practice.
Benjamin remembered alright. He remembered the feeling of utter helplessness as Woody waited for his father to come to his rescue. He remembered with horror the sound of his father’s voice and the bitter gut wrenching feeling of guilt as he realised that his father was going to die and it was going to be entirely his fault. Woody’s masterful plan of revenge was sweet or vile, depending on one’s perspective. Benjamin watched and waited with his executioner while he killed his father first and teased him with what he would do to his son. Then, when all was lost, Woody turned his attention to Benjamin.
The horror of what happened to him as he lay helpless beside his dead father on the floor of Darkly Wood is quite unimaginable for anyone other than the victim of such an abomination. Anyone that is other than the perpetrator and while Benjamin grimaced and felt his legs go weak at the memory, Woody chuckled and grinned and even shuddered with glee.
But the beast Woody was far more cruel and nasty than either of them could possibly imagine. Having the power to get inside Benjamin’s head was more than just the ability to help him remember. Woody was enjoying himself so much; he decided to add a few twists of his own, to enhance Benjamin’s memory, to embroider and to fabricate. He made Benjamin see things that never happened, but they all felt real. Daisy May wrapped her arms around Benjamin, for she could feel him falter. Once again he seemed to be losing all of his strength and he paled and waned in a faint beyond her control.
“BENJAMIN!” She pleaded.
It was a cry of desperation but Benjamin couldn’t respond as he collapsed in a heap on the filth and dirt of the upturned graveyard.
“BENSHAMEEN!”
Woody mocked her cry and jumped up and down, dancing a delighted jig on the spot. He loved moments like these.
Daisy May collapsed to her knees, lifting Benjamin’s head, kissing his face, tears rolling down her cheek half in fear for Benjamin, half in fear for herself.
“Benjamin...Benjamin…talk to me...Benjamin…” her whispered cries were wasted and Benjamin’s head went limp in her hands.
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...”
Woody’s delighted laugh filled the forest. On and on it went as Daisy shook her beloved Benjamin. He was pale and felt cold and when she put her lips to his, Daisy May could not feel his breath. All the while, Woody’s cruel mocking laughter circled her like a flock of vultures, waiting for the right moment. On and on it went until finally, when he seemed to have laughed himself out, Woody’s cackling subsided. His voice distracted her from Benjamin’s beautiful pale face.
“He can’t help you noweeh!” he chortled.
“Don’t you see Daisee Mayee? Can’t you feel it girlee?”
He stifled a laugh with his hand, finding it almost impossible to snuffle out his laugh and then finally, before he burst out into uncontrollable laughter he announced what she already knew,
“Heees dead!”
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN – THE TALE OF DARKLY WOOD
One very important story in the book, Tales of Darkly Wood is of course the one entitled, ‘Darkly Wood.’ What good would a book of stories about a place
be, if it did not tell the story of the actual place? Oddly, the author decided to place the story of Darkly Wood, neither at the beginning nor the end of his collection. It was as though he had deliberately placed it in an apparently random place among the stories of horror that filled the pages of his book. Only he knew the reason for his choice of positioning.
As stories go, it is not really spectacular or dynamic in any obvious sense, at least when compared to the other tales of his book. Perhaps he felt, it was too mundane an opener or not dynamic enough to close with, or maybe there was some other reason. There is no explanation given in the book itself. Either way, J.S. Toner chose to slip it in under the radar, discretely hidden in the middle of his book.
Perhaps he felt, education was often easiest to deliver by stealth. While the other stories were designed to act as a warning, they were not openly presented in that fashion. ‘Tales of Darkly Wood’ was sold as a simple collection of stories. Though in his very short preface, the author casually refers to the tales as a mix of myth, folklore and truth, he places no particular emphasis on any of these options. For some reason he did not want to suggest that this was a book filled with horrors that should act as a warning. It is likely that no one would have taken him seriously anyway and probably less likely that he would get it published, had he chosen to present it as such.
Oddly, the chapter entitled ’Darkly Wood’ is not directly taken as an opportunity to outright scare the reader, although frighten it does albeit in a more subtle manner. Again perhaps he felt, that was a task adequately performed by the other tales in his book. Essentially, John took a more factual, direct and descriptive approach to that particular story. In his surprisingly short chapter about Darkly Wood, he begins by describing the place itself;
