The Trees Have Eyes

by Tobias Wade

  Have you seen Da Vinci’s divine man?

  Well imagine that, but with his skin pinned around him. Like someone had opened him up to take a look inside. And the worst part, there were hundreds of them. Hundreds of splayed figures pinned to rocks and trees. Although the marking underneath held no color, I knew the smudges were the blood pooling around them into a river that flowed down the tunnel away from me. The more I saw the more revolted I felt.

  At one point, what I had been taking for random strikes on the wall turned more organized, and it dawned on me that what I was seeing was writing, although it wasn’t in any form I had seen before. I carried on following the pictures and writing until I realized I had reached the same chamber as yesterday. The large creature loomed over me again. I felt kinda weird looking into its eyes, like spaced out and present at the same time. I saw my hand reaching out to touch it again and bam. I was right back on the mining floor in the dark of night.

  I knew I had only just gone down that tunnel. Maybe two hours at best.

  But, there I was standing in the pitch black with only my head-torch lighting the dusty floor. I figured I lost about ten hours. My watch stopped working some time ago, so I’d no way of truly knowing. I didn’t know what to do as anger swelled in my belly. I wanted to get some gold. I hadn’t actually harvested any and that was the whole fucking reason I was there. I decided to go down another tunnel and get what I had come for.

  I think that was my last bad decision. Maybe I should have walked away there and then, but I didn’t.

  I went down every one of those fucking mines; every time I came back out in that chamber, and every time I saw myself touching the creature until I woke up outside. It wasn’t until the last time when I knew something was really wrong.

  I had forgotten my name.

  I wandered around the site trying to find what I was missing. Trying to remember why I was there. Why I was standing in this barren place with nothing but a head-torch and a broken compass. I don’t remember how long I had been in that godforsaken mine, it could have been days or years by that point. It wasn’t until I stumbled over the signpost that I had a flicker of a memory. I thought the position of the signpost was strange, kinda out of place, so I followed where it pointed.

  The further I went, the more I remembered. Little things at first, like my name.

  Danny.

  Also why I was walking under the blistering sun with no provisions. I don’t know how long I walked for, I stopped when I had to rest, drank when I found water and ate whatever I could find. I was eventually saved by an aboriginal guy named Brian. I owe him my life.

  It’s been hard since I first set foot in Australia and now I can’t even go home. There’s nothing left for me.

  Remember I said I lost something far more important than gold? I went looking to change my fortune just after my fortieth birthday on March 24th, 1918. I don’t know how, but I think I was stuck in a time loop. That’s what I think the clothes were. The people who worked there. I think they stopped remembering. I think they found that creature, whatever it was, and it kept them prisoner there. Kept them forgetting, forgetting to eat, forgetting who they were, why there were there in the first place until they became the dust that covered the place.

  Sometimes when I sleep I have dreams of that mine, like it’s never left me and will be a part of me until I die. I’m in those tunnels, searching for something, when the creature reaches out and grabs me, pulls me into the walls of those mines. I feel like I become one with it, with the walls, with the mine.

  I went in search of gold, and what I found I can never be rid of.

  Kyle Harrison

  For Services Rendered

  There was something special about Summer Donahue. Everybody who ever met her said so. All of us girls envied her during middle school and junior high. She was smart, she was sassy, she had boyfriends, money, and a good life.

  While the rest of us had to work hard for what we wanted, it seemed like everything always fell into place for Summer.

  She also destroyed everything I ever cared about.

  It started when we were able to arrange a senior trip to Europe for our marching band.

  Because Summer was our captain she got to pick where we were going to go, and according to our band director the sky was the limit.

  While most of us wanted to visit Barcelona or Paris, Summer insisted on a quieter locale, amid the tranquil countryside of Romania. She said she wanted to enjoy a good old fashioned camping trip.

  So of course, given the fact that it costed a lot less and we could stay longer; the band director agreed with her choice.

  We all got our parental consent and packed our bags to leave a week before spring break.

  I didn't know it at the time, but that was when my boyfriend Todd had started talking to her.

  There was tension between Todd and I already, thanks to an argument we had had at the Valentine dance.

  Todd said I had trust issues, I was sure he was already cheating.

  Still I wanted the trip to be our chance to rekindle our relationship.

  It was about three days after we got to our destination that I found out that they were doing a lot more than talking.

  When Todd confessed to me, all I could do was cry and run off to the woods we were staying close to. I didn’t care where I was going, so long as it was far away from him.

  There I was, literally thousands of miles from family, in a small secluded forest, walking in circles and crying my eyes out. Wishing all the perfect people in the world could be knocked off of their pedestals.

  That was when I saw him.

  I had been zoned out watching the clouds rolling over the mountains. Then my gaze strayed to the end of the tree line where this ancient oak stood, and I found myself staring at a handsome muscular young man.

  He had to be no more than two or three years older than I, andbut something about the way he sat there and slowly smoked on a strong cigar made him alluring.

  He was dark- haired, tall, and had perfect green eyes that twinkled with a hint of mischief hiding behind them. He sported a dark fur coat and a fitting leather jacket, well- ironed slacks and mountain boots that had recently been shined.

  As he tossed the cigar to the ground, I realized he had noticed me and I turned away in embarrassment.

  Before I knew it he had moved across the clearing to where I was and shot me a charming smile.

  “"Care for a smoke?”" he asked.

  He had flowers pinned to the lapel of his coat. They smelled like dirt, which instantly set turned me off.

  There was something attractive about his confidence though, so I responded in a flirtatious way, “I'm probably too young for you.” “But old enough to know how to have a good time?” he responded as he leaned against the oak beside me.

  “I should be, but instead I'm here with you,” I said.

  “Tell you what, let's share a cig and a conversation. I get to know you and you me. You don't like what you hear, then we go our separate ways. No harm, no foul,” he responded.

  There was something special about the way he said things. It made me feel comfortable.

  “Okay, one smoke,” I conceded and then checked my watch, “And you got fifteen minutes until my curfew.”

  Not that I had really anything to be running back to camp for.

  He smiled broadly and I saw he had yellow ugly teeth;, then he waved his hand in front of my face and made a cigarette appear.

  “Local magician?” I asked him as I took it nervously.

  “Something like that,”he said.

  “A small town like this probably doesn't get many tourists huh?” I said, suddenly feeling like the air was getting colder as we spoke.

  He shrugged and answered, “Sometimes. I don't come near to town that often though. But tonight is special. So you should feel thankful.”

  “Oh really?” I smiled back. I was enjoying the playful ba
nter. But I didn’t like the idea of being here in these woods alone with a stranger.

  “You came to Romania to learn about the culture right?” he asked.

  “Eh... it's a long story,” I said and checked my watch again. "It's getting late. Thanks for the smoke though.”

  “Leaving? We haven't even made proper introductions yet,” he said.

  “Look... you seem like a nice guy. But honestly I doubt this is going to go the way you're hoping dude,” I said. I was starting to wonder why I was even lingering there, arguing with him.

  Maybe he reminded me of those people that could always get their way.

  “What if I told you that it could go the way you wanted though?” he asked.

  I snickered at him and stood up to leave. “That isn't how life works,” I said.

  I stepped away from him ready to get away before things got any stranger. I was halfway toward the edge of the clearing when he spoke again.

  “Tell that to Summer Donahue.”

  I froze in my tracks.

  I turned toward him and blinked for a second.

  “How do you know about her?” I asked.

  “I know a lot of things. Like I know if you keep walking you will leave an ordinary life the rest of your days,” he answered.

  “And if I stay?” I asked as I moved toward the center of the grove again.

  “Then we get to know each other a little better,” he explained as he passed me a professional business card that was written in Romanian.

  “I don't understand,” I admitted as I kept feeling like he was staring at me. “Hmm, I thought for sure I had it right; check again,” he remarked with a sly grin.

  I looked at the business card again to see that the words were slowly fading, and changing from Romanian to English.

  “Martolea Julihov, private entrepreneur; professional handler; available every Tuesday and Thursday night to the weary and weak,” I said reading it aloud and then tossed it on the ground. It faded away into the earth.

  “That's a pretty neat magic trick,” I said, laughing nervously.

  “You don't believe in things you can't explain, but you will,” he said.

  He paused and raised his coat up to cover his face for a moment. Then he dropped it and I found myself staring with my mouth wide open.

  I was looking at the visage of a hag, her face was covered with sores and warts. Her teeth were misshapen and her hair long and grey, her eyes nearly grey from blindness.

  I found myself stumbling to get up at the shock of the sight and mumbled, “What... what are you?”

  “I have many names, dearie; many names that you will forget. the one on my card will suffice for now,” she said.

  I wanted to run, to scream at the top of my lungs. But something in its gaze prevented me from doing so.

  She whispered softly to me, “There is no need to fear, dear child. I told you already that I am here to help you.”

  “To... to help me how...” I asked.

  “First you must listen to my voice... and hear my words, and forget this place,” sheit responded.

  It felt so easy to slip away. I didn't know why but I accepted his calling and soothing voice.

  “Forget.. this... place..…” I repeated.

  “Your friend, Summer. She has everything that you do not. What would you give to take it away from her?” Martolea asked.

  I thought about it for a moment. I knew it was offering me some kind of bargain so I asked, “You would hurt her?” It sounded so enticing.

  “I would make her pay the way that you feel she deserves. As you can see, I'm a professional. And my services are well known here in this country,” the thing explained.

  “And the price?” I asked.

  I knew there had to be one. No offer like this could possibly be free. The wind had stopped as the two of us stood there in the clearing.

  “For taking a life, one must be given. An eye for an eye. But I'm not unreasonable about this. It will be the death of a stranger, someone you have never even met. I will find them and the price will be paid,” Martolea said.

  I couldn't resist thinking of the possibilities of what Summer had in store. The more I thought about it the more I realized this was really what I wanted.

  No one would ever know, I told myself. I shook her hand and felt a sharp burn on my palm. I looked at the small mark she had made, and then found myself alone amid the forest again.

  I strolled back to the campsite and started to wonder if any of it had even been real. I saw Summer and Todd near the mess hall acting like love birds and felt rage. Maybe I had imagined the encounter simply to get revenge?

  Then as I settled down to sleep for the night, I heard the screams.

  They were coming from the cabin across from me where the other girls stayed. Where Summer was at.

  I grabbed a light coat and followed the other girls outside and toward the other building.

  The crowd made it difficult at first to know what had happened but then, as our band director cleared the room, I could see the carnage. It was Summer Donahue, of course.

  Blood stained the floor, leading up to the edge of the bed where bits of flesh and bone were hanging loosely. Her body looked as though it had been shredded from the torso down, and her entrails hung against the back wall with nails staked into them, wrapping around her neck and choking the life out of her.

  There was no sign of what happened to her lower body, but it wasn't hard to imagine that the Martolea had made quick work of it as well.

  I ran outside into the darkness as the girls spoke of a strange animal that had entered their room and attacked Summer. I felt my heart beat out of my chest as I looked toward the forest. I wondered if the Martolea was watching me as I stood there and tried not to vomit.

  The cold air crept around me.

  Our trip was cut short after the incident, and on the way home my boyfriend and I made amends with each other. At first I thought he was just feeling sorry for himself but eventually our relationship grew stronger.

  I went on to get married to Todd, and last autumn we decided to start planning to have a family together. As time went on I forgot about Romania and I forgot about Summer. I was soon pregnant with our first child.

  I have to admit those first few weeks I was in complete shock.

  Then tragedy struck us a few weeks later when we went for our latest ultrasound.

  The doctor called us the next day to tell us that the baby would not live beyond my first trimester. I remember listening to the dead static of the phone and trying not to cry.

  The doctor explained that I was at risk as well and needed to come to the hospital for an emergency surgery to get the baby out before what was killing it caused the same effect on my body.

  We drove that night to get the procedure done, and I remember squeezing Todd's hand as I prepped for surgery. I was more scared than I had ever been.

  I asked them to put me under and it felt like an out of body experience that some people sometimes talk about. I could see the surgeons working on me as fast as possible to save my life.

  Then I saw a shadow cross over the room and I heard laughter. In between the darkness I saw sharp gleaming green eyes.

  The air grew cold again.

  The demon's hands transformed into claws as it began to tear open my belly. His mouth shaped and opened wide to reveal sharp rows of jagged and rotting teeth.

  I heard a cry, like that of an infant, and watched helplessly as the creature took the baby from my womb. Then as the darkness covered us both on all sides it began to devour my child. I could only watch helplessly.

  I screamed and kicked and cursed. I wailed at the top of my lungs as he ate my baby, his smile becoming smeared with its blood.

  Then I woke up in my hospital room, I found myself surrounded by family and friends coming to offer their support and care for me.

  I was too paralyzed to say much of any
thing except a few simple words.

  As the night wore on they lingered until at last it was just me and Todd in the room alone. I thought about the dream I had, and then woke my husband up. I had to confess everything to him. I cried as I found the words to say.

  I started at the beginning and as I went on with the story he at first thought that it was beyond belief. Then as I explained the price that the demon asked for he got quiet.

  The death of a stranger.

  He stood up and walked over to the nightstand where many of our guests had stopped by to offer us condolences and small gifts and picked up a bouquet of flowers.

  He brought them to my side and showed me the note that went along with them.

  For Services Rendered—- MJ

  They smelled like dirt.

  Uncle Howard's Canyon

  When I was a little boy, my fondest summer memories were spending time in the north woods at my uncle Howard's. He had this rustic old cabin that was surrounded on all sides by nothing but pure nature.

  The local hunters called it Howard's Hideout. Every time my brother John and I would visit a new adventure would await us.

  But as you grow up those things fade and you find yourself focusing on the adventures of adulthood. They aren't nearly as fun, and you can't just wiggle your nose and change the story.

  I wish I could change this story. But this isn't about me. It's about my uncle and the legacy he left behind.

  Howard died last June from a massive heart attack. I remember when John called me at work to tell me the news. He knew I was always particularly close to our uncle.

  A rush of memories flooded over me after I got off the phone. Fishing down at the creek, setting snares along the property line, listening to old westerns as he popped a bag of kettle corn over the open stove.