by Heath Pfaff
"I allowed myself to believe that I was going to make it back to the cabin at first, but as the mists grew thicker I realized I was in trouble. It wasn't that I was becoming lost, because I still knew which direction I was traveling. I knew the layout of the island quite well by this time, but the mist wasn't letting me go. I passed the same landmark three times in a row, and then I passed a hill topped by a massive stone pillar that I knew did not exist anywhere on Dreamer's Isle. That's when I stopped trying to find my way back to the cabin. I knew it wasn't going to be that easy. I tried to figure out what others had done once they discovered they were lost in the mists. Most who were lost never came back, and those who did were never the same afterwards. I was convinced that I could escape if I didn't fall into the same patterns that the other victims had. I sat down to think and tried to calm my impulse to run and scream. I refused to just give up, but I needed some kind of plan.
"As I was trying to gather my thoughts and put forth a solution, a voice I'd longed to hear for years called to me from further ahead in the woods. I knew who it was immediately without needing to see her, but I also knew that she was dead. She'd been dead when I'd first seen her in the mists, and she was still dead. That couldn't be changed. I tried to ignore her, but her voice kept beckoning me. She wouldn't go away. I cursed and swore at her, though it broke my heart to do so, and then I pleaded with her to leave me alone. I knew she wasn't real. She couldn't be real. My Melody was gone.
"Then she came for me. She came out of the woods before me, striding as though death couldn't hold her back. She walked right up to me as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 'Come, Johni, let's go for a stroll through the mists.' She said, holding a hand forward in invitation. She was exactly as I remembered her. Her hair was pale blond, her eyes sparkling green, and her smile as warm and welcoming as it'd ever been. I wanted to go with her so badly, but I knew that she couldn't be there. It wasn't possible. 'You're dead, Melody.' I told her, as though informing her of the obvious would set things right. 'I can't go with you.' She smiled at me, looked me straight in the eyes, and replied, 'My poor Johni, of course I'm dead, but so are you now. Please, come walk with me.' It would have been so easy to take her hand at that moment. She was familiar, comfortable, and it was so wonderful to be seeing her again.
“Still, a part of me refused to accept what was happening. Melody was dead, and even if she hadn't been, I'd loved her but she had never felt the same for me. Should an afterlife exist, and should it hold our loved ones, I very much doubted I would be so lucky as to have Melody in mine. I'd been her friend, and I'd stayed with her as the Withering Lung consumed her, but she'd never loved me. 'You're not really her. You can't be.' I said, and I turned my back on the image of the person I'd once loved. I held my gaze away as long as my heart would allow me, and when I finally couldn't look away any longer she was gone. I remember breathing a sigh of relief, but not being sure why I was relieved. Would death in a dream where Melody was alive and cared for me have really been so bad? You may think me a fool for almost giving in to an illusion, but that illusion was so very real. Reality seemed lesser next to that which the mist presented to me.
"The next image to come at me from the dark wasn't as pleasant. I heard them before I saw them, but hearing them wasn't enough for me to recognize exactly what was happening. If you've ever struck a hollowed piece of wood with a mossy stone, or if you can imagine what that might sound like, that is what I heard coming from the woods around me. It was a deep and dull thump, with a woody warmth to it that sounded almost like some kind of man-made drum. The first one stepped out of the woods in front of me, staggering as though its joints wouldn’t quite respond the way it wanted them to. I realized quickly why that was. It had a human torso, but its arms, legs, and head were made of wood that looked like it had been pieced together from scrap found on the forest floor. As it moved its knees cracked and split like the dry twigs they were composed of. Its head was a piece of hollow log wedged into the stump of flesh that had been the neck. As it creaked and groaned in my direction it would twitch its head quickly to one side occasionally, which let out another of those ghastly hollow drumming sounds. It had no eyes that I could make out, but still it shambled in my direction with an unerring accuracy that was all I needed to get me moving. What I wouldn’t do for the memory of Melody, I was doing out of fear.
“More of the creatures began to emerge from the woods, all of them slightly different, but each equally horrifying. My instincts told me to run away from them, but I forced myself to do the opposite. I ran directly towards two of them, passing between them, just out of their reach. The one on my right side scraped me with its branch-like fingers, ripping the fabric of my shirt, but I didn't slow. I didn't know what would happen to me if they caught me, or if I ran the way they were trying to chase me, but I'd already decided I wasn't going to let that happen. It only took me a few minutes to run out of breath. I was leaning heavily on a tree, gasping and trying to listen for the hollow drumming between ragged intakes of air. I didn't hear those things behind me, but I hardly believed I'd so easily avoided all of them. I wasn't sure where to go next. The woods around me were almost entirely black. Between the mists and the darkness of the night there was very little for me to see. For all I knew I could be running into more danger than I was trying to avoid. I took a moment to consider my situation. I was, after all, a mage of some ability. I thought that I should perhaps start thinking like one.
"The first thing I did was establish a strong barrier, not to keep the mist out since that would have been a lost cause, but to keep anything physical from assailing me. At the very least a physical attacker would have to force my barrier, which would give me some time to react. Whether this summoned the things within the mist, or it was merely coincidence, a new shape slipped out of the shadows. It was an indistinct thing of roughly human shape and size, but as it drew nearer its form seemed to solidify and shift until what stood before me was something that looked vaguely like a mirror image. It moved forward, floating, its feet dragging through the underbrush as though it was being hoisted by the shoulders. It slid right to the edge of my barrier and peered in with eyes that looked hauntingly like my own.
"I stood my ground and refused to move, though the thing that was pretending to be me was only a few steps away. 'I'm not afraid of you.' I told it, trying to hide the fear that I was most certainly feeling. It was impossible not to see this thing that was me, but clearly wasn't, and not feel some shade of fear. 'Not afraid of you.' It parroted in a voice that was nothing like mine. If a man was drowned and resurrected after a hundred years, it may have spoken with a voice like the one this thing possessed. It gurgled and groaned, clearly articulate, but awful and inhuman. I wanted to yell at it, to scream and make it flee, but I was afraid that it would mimic me again and its voice was terrifying. The thing smiled, revealing terrible black teeth. This was the rotted mouth of a drowned corpse, a horror to go with the voice. It was me on the outside, but inside it was all rot and corruption. 'I'm not afraid.' It spoke again, reaching a hand out and placing it against the barrier. Was it simply parroting again, or was it telling me that it wasn't afraid of me?
"My magic flared to life attempting to dissipate the threat, and the things hand burst apart like a barrel that has been too tightly sealed with fermenting beer. Black decay splattered away from it but the thing, whatever it was, hardly seemed bothered. It charged forward. The barrier took the blow, but I watched as my own visage tore apart explosively and splattered all through the woods in a horrifying mockery of my own death. There was no power in the barrier that should have caused such a violent reaction, but the spray of blood, bone, and all too familiar bits of tattered skin was beyond denial. Seeing oneself completely destroyed is an experience that really staggers the mind. I knew that thing hadn't actually been me, or anything like me, but it had looked like me. It triggered a primal fear, and I'm ashamed to say that I dropped my barrier and ran without clear direction. I was
already exhausted, but the flood of terror that washed over me was more than enough to propel me onward. I was moving so quickly I couldn't even see the forest in front of me through the mist and darkness. I slammed face first into one of those wood-headed monstrosities and knocked myself to the ground.
"I was still trying to gather what was left of my wits and figure out exactly what I'd hit when it reached down and grabbed me with its branch arms and twig fingers. I let out a scream and tried to break away, but the thing was far stronger than I could have imagined. Its wooden fingers seemed to twine around my wrists as though it were growing itself into a cuff from which I couldn't claw my way free. If you've ever tried to rip the bark from a branch with your bare fingers, you'll know it's a difficult task. Then once you're through the bark itself, the branch beneath simply can't be penetrated. I tore my nails ragged trying, but the hollow-headed thing just twitched its empty skull, sending that bass drum beat signal off through the woods. Then it began to drag me away. Steel would have been less restrictive than its grip.
“I tried to get to my feet a few times, but each time I'd get as far as my knees the wretched thing would yank hard on my arm and I’d be thrown back to the ground. It moved onward quickly, faster than I would have thought it could possibly carry itself on those stiff wooden legs. It seemed to have a destination in mind. I struggled as long as my strength would hold, certain that I was at the end of my existence. I'm not certain how long it dragged me, but by the end of the experience I had long since given up fighting. I simply had nothing left to give the effort. I couldn't cast a barrier while being dragged, and I am ashamed to say I had never learned offensive spells. Well, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I simply have no ability for offensive spells. I can't cast them at all. I'd never felt quite so helpless.
"After what felt like hours I found myself being hauled up the side of the hill with the giant stone on top. I don't believe that distances or direction are consistent within the mists. The distance traveled back to the stone seemed longer, but it was impossible to say for sure. It may have only been the pain of being dragged across the forest floor that made me think we'd come further. All that seemed certain to me in that moment was that whatever lay ahead for me wasn't good. I almost welcomed death, and I certainly regretted not having taken Melody's hand when it was offered. These creatures constructed of dead flesh and wood seemed to offer a far more horrific fate than whatever might have met me at Melody's side. The monster that had dragged me through the woods released my arm just long enough to grab me by the neck and hoist me from the ground. I was slammed backward against the cold stone pillar with bone rattling force. The air was knocked from my lungs, not that I had much fight left in me anyway. From all around the hill I could hear the hollow knocking of more of the creatures as they shook their awful wooden heads. They were drawing nearer.
"It wasn't long before dozens of the creatures were pouring from the woods and climbing the hills. They were taking up positions all around me, drumming their heads in some form of macabre communication. I thought the terrible sound would drive me crazy, and just then it suddenly ceased. Not one of the creatures so much as stirred, and that was when real fear set in. The silence was unnatural. It seemed to stifle even the wind and the crunch of the fallen leaves on the ground. It was as though my ears had stopped working for a moment, and when next I heard something it was a set of lone footsteps coming towards me up the hill.
"I couldn't turn my head, but I could move my eyes far enough to see a figure clad in shadows walking up the hill with an unnatural gate. I recognized it immediately. It was me. More accurately, it was the thing that looked like me but wasn't. Apparently it hadn't actually died before, or if it had, this was another one. It strode up the hill with its inhuman gate, smiling with an expression I hoped was never actually found on my face. It cocked its head as it approached and opened its terrible mouth. "Of you, I'm not afraid." It croaked, and then it reached for me. I thought all fight was gone, but I screamed and kicked as it took a grip with hands that looked somewhat like mine, but the fingers were far too long and they ended in sharp points as though someone had filed down the ends of those overly long fingers and sharpened the bone beneath.
"It began to rip into my shoulder through the cloth and into the flesh. I tried to struggled, but I was pinned by my throat. A moment later two more of the wooden-limbed torsos grabbed my arm and held it steady as the broken version of me ripped through my skin and muscle towards my bone. They began to pull and bend on my arm, and I was suddenly too keenly aware that they were trying to rip it off. In that moment I knew what they intended to do. They were going to turn me into one of them. They were going to rip off my arms and legs, probably saving my head for last, and then I would be another one of the torso-beasts wandering through the world within the glimmer mist. I fought back with renewed vigor, screaming, kicking, and struggling to break free. I might as well have tried to take down the largest tree in the woods with my bare hands. My assailants did not relent, and soon there was a burst of blinding pain as my first arm tore free of my body. They started on the second immediately after.
"I wanted to pass out, or to bleed out and die, but somehow I stayed awake as they removed both of my arms, and then my legs. Horror and fear were pulling my mind apart as readily as the creatures of the mist were pulling my body apart. They started on my head next, and I could feel them ripping at the skin on my neck, and tugging at my head. I thought I felt my spine splitting and, as if it all were a nightmare that could be broken by the dawn, I suddenly took a huge gasp of air and sat up. I was laying on the forest floor with the newly risen sun shining down on me. I was just ten feet from the clearing and my cabin. It was over. I checked my body and found myself intact, but not entirely whole." Shawl unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and exposed his collar as well as one of his shoulders. There was a partial line of puckered, scarred flesh circling part of his neck, and his shoulder had a similar scar that circled all the way around the joint where his shoulder connected his arm to his torso. "I have one of those around every leg and every arm." He added gravely.
"I did what any sane man would do at that point. I ran. I headed not for my cabin, but for the dock. I grabbed the boat I'd built for myself, put it in the water, and started to row my way for the mainland. I didn’t care what I left behind. I was never going back to Dreamer's Isle again. I'm not sure how far I made it, but it wasn't far. I blacked out, and when I woke up I was on the porch of my cabin. I was still terrified, so I did the exact same thing. I ran for the dock and found my boat in the exact same place it had been stowed before as though I'd never pulled it out. I quickly pulled it to the water, settled in, and began to row for the mainland. Again, I blacked out and woke on the porch of my cabin. Three more times I repeated the attempt to escape, and each time I woke back on the porch to my cabin. By that point it was too late in the day to risk another trip out to the boat. I wasn't going out into the woods after dark. I locked myself in my cabin and stayed there until the next day, upon which I tried to escape three more times. I couldn't leave. Over the next few years I tried to escape on a few occasions, but the result is always the same. As long as I stay here and continue my life as normal there is nothing wrong. The minute I try to leave, I am again returned to the cabin. I cannot escape this island. I don't think I truly survived my night out in the mists, but neither did I completely die. I think the mists are keeping me here, hoping someday to finish what they began."
"Under other circumstances I might find that difficult to believe." Kassa commented. Haley had been thinking something very similar herself. Before starting her adventure with Xandrith, everything that had happened to her recently would have felt like some kind of twisted fairy tale.
"Even retelling it from memory doesn't make it any more believable." Shawl said with a shrug. "I'm not sure how much of it really happened and how much was just some madness inflicted by the mists, but the memories are clear. Even after years of time
I can still see the events as though they happened only last week. One thing I know is true, however. I cannot leave this island. I don't know how my boat gets back to shore, or how I end up back at the cabin, but it's always the same."
"Maybe it's a delusion?" Kassa spoke up suddenly. "Maybe you only believe you're trying to exit the island, but in reality you're just sitting down on the porch and blacking out? That would explain why your boat is always back on shore."
Johndin shook his head. "No, I considered that possibility as well. One of the times I tried to escape I took some floating fishing lures with me and dropped them in the water with lead sinkers attached to hold them in place. I managed to drop four of them before I blacked out, and when I came back to check after waking up on the porch, the lures were floating in a straight line out from shore. I had started across that stretch of water, but the island won't let me go."
Haley wasn't certain why Johndin was giving up on the idea of escape so easily. "We have to try anyway. It would be stupid not to try. With Kassa and I to watch you, we'll find a way to get you off the island."
Kassa was already nodding her agreement. "For all you know you could be blacking out and paddling yourself back here, Johndin. With us along, we won't let you do that. You would be a fool to not try and escape with us, and I don't believe for a moment that you're a fool."
Shawl blinked. "Paddling myself back?" He blinked again. "I've never considered that."
Kassa frowned. "You mean you've been trying to escape for years and haven't thought of the fact that maybe the island is using you against yourself?"
