Shadow Witch: Horror of the Dark Forest

by J. Thorn

  “Yes,” she said, her voice shaking as though riding the wildest horse in the village.

  The road to the kingdom disappeared below the crest but she saw the meadowland bordering the road to either side. Dried brush and bramble swayed in the gusting wind like wild animals, and with each undulation she thought she saw the monsters. Something larger moved at the edge of her vision.

  “My God, they’re coming. They’re coming.”

  He rushed forward, feeling the sands of time working against him. With one eye on the meadow westward, he studied the road. Three recent tracks. He still hadn’t found where the girls wandered away. What were they thinking, separating from their family? How could he have been so stupid not to notice?

  The howls came closer. At any moment, he expected to see the monsters crashing down the road, snouts agape with rows of teeth to tear his family apart.

  Is that Sarra, Krea and Jasmine’s fate?

  He shuddered. No, he would not allow himself to believe it. They had to be alive and he would find them. If only he could find where—

  Thom spotted a depression in the soil and leaned over, inhaling the scent released from the dirt. Tracks of three became six, marking the last point where the entire family walked together. As the baying of a dread wolf carried from the fields westward, he studied the strange pattern in the dusty road. The wind began wiping away the tracks, like the ocean tide flattening the sand into a virgin canvas. The tracks massed along the eastern edge of the road, turning toward each other as though in debate. Delia clutched herself against Kira, crying as the sounds of the monsters ascended from the meadow.

  Thom’s eyes traveled through the eastern meadow. At first, he saw only the bumpy terrain of soil ravaged by the elongated winter. Then he caught sight of subtle indentations winding eastward in erratic twists.

  “I’ve found their tracks,” Thom said over the building wind.

  Kira followed Thom’s gaze but she saw only bramble and desolate meadow.

  “Then lead the way. We must find them before—”

  As if to finish her thought, one of the pursuing beasts bellowed along the southern stretch of the Mylan Road. Thom saw the dread wolf now, stalking along the border between path and meadow like a freakish nightmare. Even from a distance, Thom realized the beast stood a full two heads taller than he. It stopped, its snout sniffing the air with pig-like grunts. The dread wolf turned and started loping towards them.

  “Get behind me,” Thom said. “Get behind me and run for the trees.”

  “I’m not leaving you here alone to die.”

  “Listen to me. You must go if you want to live.”

  “Thom—”

  “Wait for me at the forest’s edge. If I do not come to you, find the girls. Find the girls and take them to Mylan.”

  The monster stepped closer, its face contorting into a snarl Thom swore was a grin. The beast’s ears flicked. Its eyes burned holes in his chest.

  “Go.”

  Kira dragged Delia off the road, fresh tears streaming down her face. The site of the beast broke Delia free of her paralysis and they ran as though the Shadow itself was at their heels. The dread wolf turned in the direction of the fleeing women. Thom stepped into its path.

  The beast’s eyes filled with rage and a hellish delight. It looked at Thom’s sword and let loose a dry, twisted snarl of dirty laughter. No more than fifteen paces away, the beast howled and bounded forward. A low growl thundered out of its chest. The snout opened wider, revealing vile fangs. Globs of saliva dripped off the razors like yellow pus from a rotten wound. Thom heard the cries of his youngest daughter fading behind him but he didn’t dare turn to see if they approached the tree line. His eyes locked on the murderous nightmare bearing down on him.

  Ten paces away.

  The dread wolf grew with each step forward. The sun cowered behind the monster’s head, turning the dread wolf into a hideous silhouette and forcing Thom to squint into the light.

  Five paces away.

  The beast leapt. Thom moved as though in a dream. The sword flicked upward along a diagonal, tearing a gash through fur and flesh. The dread wolf roared, its angry scream ignoring the pain as it swung its left arm with shocking speed. Thom bent his head back as claws whistled past his eyes. In one motion, Thom rotated the sword under the dread wolf’s failed blow and sliced the blade through the side of the monster’s torso.

  The dread wolf stumbled as its cold eyes locked on Thom’s. Thom shifted the sword to his left hand and ripped the blade toward the dread wolf’s right shoulder. The beast countered, striking Thom’s shoulder like a club. Black spots formed in Thom’s eyes and his stomach lurched. He stumbled and shook his head, knowing one misstep could cost him his life.

  He kept his footing and as the monster lunged forward for the kill, Thom thrust the sword point into its chest. Blood gushed from the wound in blackish-red torrents. Yet the beast would not stop. The dread wolf howled and pulled backward to dislodge the sword. Thom’s mouth fell open as the monster charged forward again.

  It barreled into him, its hunched frame catching him in the midsection and driving the air from his lungs. He flew backward into the field, landing hard on the packed soil. Thom couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think straight. A cloudy sky rotated through his vision as dizziness overwhelmed him.

  He heard the beast coming again. He felt the earth tremor under its footfalls. The world stopped spinning and just as the monster came into view, Thom rolled over and regained his footing. Pins and needles moved down his arms like thousands of ants racing under his skin. The beast’s eyes locked on his. It charged.

  As the monster swung at him from the left, Thom dropped under the blow and swept the blade through the dread wolf’s stomach. More blood soaked the meadow in a thick, viscous stream. The monster dropped to all fours.

  Thom thought of Kira, Delia and his older daughters beyond the tree line. He screamed. Before the dread wolf could raise its snouted head, Thom slashed his blade in a wicked downward arc. The sword cut through flesh, cut through sinew and ripped through the front of the dread wolf’s neck in an explosion of red.

  Thom heard himself screaming along with the sickening thud of the monster’s severed head falling onto the soil. He gasped and the hollow roar of the wind filled his ears. He dropped to his knees next to the fallen beast. The wind ripped at his face with bits of dirt and grit stinging like angry hornets.

  He sucked air into his lungs and felt a dull pain in his ribs.

  Bruised, not broken, he thought.

  The dread wolf’s legs jerked and Thom spun onto his knees with the sword raised. The wind rippled the beast’s fur in black waves. He watched the monster—it wasn’t breathing. The beast’s muscles twitched in its death throes, yet he almost expected the eyes to open on the severed head and the body to lunge off the ground at him.

  Thom pushed himself to his feet using his sword as a cane. To the west and north, he heard the howls of more dread wolves. Wiping the blood and sweat from his brow, he caught the putrid scent of the wind. The air had a sticky, oppressive nature and it made him want to cover his mouth when he breathed.

  He limped eastward toward the tree line, his ribs throbbing. Somewhere behind him came the enraged call of another dread wolf—almost a bark. Thom’s knees wobbled and he felt dizzy. He pushed on, afraid of what could happen if he allowed his body to collapse.

  The sun shone against the eastern side of the forest, pushing the shadows into its depths. Yet those shadows hid deep among the trees, like bottomless pits one could fall into and never escape from. His skin prickled at the sight of the forest. The trees swayed.

  When he broke through the outer wall, he encountered a dark that rivaled midnight.

  A tree branch snapped. The crunch of dead leaves under footfalls spun him around, eyes widened against the gloom.

  “Thom.”

  Kira and Delia threw themselves into him. Exhaling, he welcomed them into his arms without concern for the pain
pulsing in his ribs.

  He wrapped his arms around them, feeling their warm tears sinking through his cloak. Thom looked around and saw the trees anew. He realized what was different within the forest. The great oaks, maples, ash and elm grew thick, green foliage. He had hardly seen a bud on the deciduous trees prior to breaking into the forest. The air felt warm and thick here.

  “Thank goodness you’re all right,” Kira said, hugging Thom harder.

  “Never mind me. Have you seen the girls? They couldn’t have gone far.”

  Kira looked into the forest and shook her head. Ahead stood an endless maze of trees. Soft, warm rays of sunshine touched the tree tops and descended in ethereal motes through the boughs. The light sparkled as though alive, inviting. Kira felt a magnetism emanating from the forest, as though she was being led into its depths. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

  “We have to find them,” Delia said. She watched the trees the way a sailor watches black clouds building on the horizon.

  The howling stopped, Thom thought. The monsters were right behind me.

  The sounds of the monsters stopped the moment he plunged through the tree line.

  “They couldn’t have gone far,” Thom said. “Stay close.”

  They moved into the woods. The green, vibrant leaves should not have been this thick in early spring, let alone at the tail end of the longest winter anyone could remember. Thom felt as though he stepped into the middle of summer. The abrupt change in air quality made the forest seem like it belonged to a different world.

  Blue star and thistle flowers poked their heads out of the leaves, craning their necks toward the filtered sunlight and splashing the forest floor with blues and magentas. Delia knelt to pick a thistle and Thom felt the urge to yank her back, as though she bent to touch a rattlesnake. Kira did not say anything, yet he saw in her eyes a wariness and revulsion of the forest.

  They moved deeper into the woods, calling out to their missing daughters. Their voices traveled through the trees and echoed back at them. Thom studied the ground. Three girls running through the leaves would have left an obvious trail, yet there was no sign of their passing.

  Maybe they entered the forest at a different point, he thought.

  Amid the overgrowth of towering trees, a trail could be at his feet and he would not see it.

  Still they received no answers to their calls. The forest played tricks with the light, shunting the sun in spots, while painting others in brilliant oranges. It made it difficult for Thom to discern the time, but the warming coloration of the sky hinted that the afternoon grew late.

  “Where could they have gone? They couldn’t have gotten far in so little time.”

  Thom rubbed his temples. Nothing about his daughters’ disappearance made sense. They would not purposely break from their family. It seemed outrageous. How they could have done so without either he or Kira noticing was even more confusing. And then the barrier—magic had appeared, as though someone placed it there to separate his family. And now he stood amid a forest of lush greens and blooming flowers when their entire journey was spent in the cold breath of winter.

  “We’ll find them. I promise. We’ll find them.”

  Chapter 17

  The sun’s rays bounced from one tree to another. It distorted Sarra’s perception as if she opened her eyes underwater. She turned in a circle, head cocked at an angle, trying to make sense of the maze.

  We broke into the forest from the west. West is in that direction. Or is it in that direction?

  If the trees weren’t so tall, she could have determined west via the sun’s angle. But the rays created an amorphous haze of orange above the tree tops and the colors pooled in the dense foliage, bleeding down the great trunks from all directions.

  “We’re lost, aren’t we?” Sarra said.

  Krea’s hand went to her mouth and she bit down on the outside of her thumb. She looked into the forest in all directions yet she could not find their entrance point. Krea shrugged and sighed before turning to face Sarra.

  “Fools,” Sarra said. “Had you not pulled your little stunt on the road, we would still all be together.”

  “We didn’t mean anything by it,” Jasmine said, her eyes shimmering behind a veil of tears.

  “Neither of you ever mean anything by it. Perhaps if you thought about the consequences of your actions more often—”

  The crunch of leaves under heavy weight quieted Sarra. The sound could have been caused by a tree limb falling to the forest floor. The girls swiveled their heads toward the noise but they did not see leaves floating in gentle arcs through the air, as one would expect after a large limb fell.

  “What was that?” Jasmine asked, her eyes like egg shells in the building gloom of late day.

  “It sounded like a footstep,” Krea said. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Daddy?”

  Sarra covered Krea’s mouth with her hand to prevent the twin from calling out again.

  “Don’t be an idiot. Do you want to get us all killed?”

  “But what if it is mother and father?” Jasmine asked. “If we don’t call out to them, they’ll never find us.”

  “And what if it is one of the monsters that chased us here?”

  Jasmine and Krea shared a pained expression. Sarra pulled her hand away.

  “Because of the two of you, mother and father have no idea where we’ve run off to.”

  “Unless they found our tracks,” Krea said.

  “The dread wolves can find our tracks, too. Stay quiet.”

  Sarra put a finger to her lips and signaled the twins to follow her. They crept through the towering sentries of the dark woods toward what they believed to be east. Sarra looked up. The trees hulked like monsters, their boughs corded arms that could reach down and crush the life out of her.

  The scent of dry leaves thickened the air, not much different from an autumn day. But the air inside the trees held the dry, still warmth of summer—the sort of warmth one felt during the evening on summer’s hottest day. They crept deeper into the trees, taking care to step lightly upon the brittle leaves and twigs on the forest floor. They noticed the blue star and thistle flowers Delia found. Other wildflowers protruded from the leaves, too, some with vibrant yellow blooms and others painted in reds and magentas. In another time, the sisters would have loved picking them from a spring meadow.

  But now they regarded the flowers the way a hungry traveler regards a bush of poisonous berries. They sensed the danger in these woods, slithering along the ground like snakes.

  Darkness pooled along the base of the tree trunks, seeping outward as the day grew old. A whippoorwill sang behind them. Sarra shivered.

  “Nightfall approaches,” Jasmine said.

  Sarra saw the expanding blackness and struggled to identify the contours of the trees. She saw night coming. She knew what it meant.

  They could not find a path, no worn trail from ages of travel through these woods. No hint civilization might exist ahead. They saw only the ancient trees. The gloom rose off the ground like fog out of a river valley. Soon, travel through the forest would become difficult, if not impossible.

  “We will need to stop for the night,” Sarra said.

  “No.” Krea turned to Jasmine, her eyes pleading with her twin sister for support. “I’m not giving up until we find mother, father and Delia.”

  “I’m not giving up, either, but the forest will become too dark for travel before long. If we begin gathering supplies now, we can build a fire before—”

  “Daddy.” Krea’s voice swept through the forest, ricocheting off the trees in diminishing echoes until it perished in the gloom.

  “Jasmine, quiet her before she gets us all killed,” Sarra said.

  Jasmine bit her lower lip.

  “Jasmine, please.”

  “Daddy. We’re over here,” Krea said.

  Slap.

  As Jasmine lowered her hand, her eyes darted between Krea and the ground. Krea’s mouth ope
ned, closed, then opened again. Her words drowned in a choked sob. She turned her head between Jasmine and Sarra, her face awash in shimmering crimson.

  “How could you take her side?” Krea asked.

  “I’m taking your side, too. You will bring every dread wolf within a hundred miles down on us if you continue to scream. Don’t you understand that?” Jasmine asked.

  Sarra embraced Krea, who stood stiff as a board with her arms hanging at her sides.

  “I know you’re scared. We’re all scared. We’ll find them. But it isn’t safe to wander through the woods at night.”

  The sky above the canopy glowed in deep orange fading to gray. The hint of blue twilight bled through to be followed by darkness.

  “So what do you intend us to do?” Jasmine asked Sarra.

  “She doesn’t even know how to make a fire,” Krea said, turning away.

  The truth stung Sarra. She surveyed the forest which looked identical in each direction and stretched away forever.

  “Perhaps not,” she said. “But I know how to stand watch. I will volunteer to stand guard first if the two of you are ready to sleep.”

  “You see, Jasmine?” Krea asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. “We’re safe now. Big sister is going to protect us from the dread wolves.”

  “Shut up, Krea,” Jasmine said. She squatted next to a thick oak and leaned her back against the bark.

  Krea sighed and stomped to a neighboring ash with an air of petulance. “Then I guess it’s goodnight.”

  As Krea leaned against the ash, she folded her arms over her chest and slammed her eyelids shut as though she meant to force herself to sleep.

  Sarra shook her head. They were lost in an unknown forest, running for their lives from beasts they believed had existed only in fairy tales. And still the twins were more interested in fighting her than surviving.

  A katydid chattered to her left and she jumped. She forced a smile and exhaled.

  I’ve not heard many sounds in this place, she thought.

  And that caused her to consider the forest anew. During periods of warm weather, which seemed at the moment to exist only near and within the forest, rabbits, deer and other wildlife should have been rustling through the trees. The branches should be alive with the sound of night birds singing to greet the blue dusk pouring out of the heavens. And yet just one katydid chirped, as though it, too, was lost.