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The twenty thorned of December. I wasn’t too deep into the grabbing forest thatchery yet. The slick black branches were like oiled hinges waiting for me. Rubbing together soundlessly like hungry hands. The pointed jointed inhuman fingers of the trees reached up leafless to a fat wet full moon. There was a cold Hallowheeze wind gusting up the corners of the damp orange leaves and dictionary pages mulching away on the forest floor. The light stink of compost mixed with the cold damp in the air
I pulled my huge black sweater closer around me. My boots were built for city walking. The roots here played hell with the long pointed toes. My flint eye stayed nailed ahead while the obsidian one casted about like a nervous horse. The lank of my raven black hair kept flopping forward and getting in the way. The greasy sheen of it picked up the moonlight. That was good. I was going to need that moonlight later.
The flock of fireflies I had flying in formation in a circle a foot out from my waist lit the way and kept me protected from the Real Dark like a hula hoop of landing lights.
I stepped forward carefully.
The Nightmare Fetus popped out of the ground in front of me like toast from a toaster and hovered at head height. He looked at me side-on like a bird. His magnified fishy eye was framed by his monocle. His top hat was perched jauntily on his oversized head. He stared at me, chewing on the end of his cigarette holder and waiting for something like applause, I guess. He must have been waiting there for hours under the leaves and dirt. His softbubble glinted underneath the far-from-the-city sky.
Little Nightmare Fetus. So theatrical. It was night, I guess, and it was a full moon. This is the Dark Wood. I guess I could let him get up to a little spookery. It’s just that he was almost saying “Ta-daaaa!”
“Message?” I demanded.
“Uh, yes. Yer marjesty.” Ennem coughed out. “Uh, the ficklewood. It’s not biting today. She’s arrrrrrr….otherwise indispoooooosed” he added, throwing a squeamish leer on the ooooo’s. He did a little somersault in the air like an antigravity dolphin.
Looks like the ficklewood and the meantree were ‘game on’ as the saplings were saying here in the forest these days.
“Ah. Well. Good news, then. Thank you Ennem. That will be all.” I said. He flippered away in the air with boneless legs like some kind of giant flesh coloured sperm with a top hat.
I kept walking forward, chuckling. I disappeared into the darkness. Calming.
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I pulled my huge black sweater closer around me. My boots were built for city walking. The roots here played hell with the long pointed toes. My flint eye stayed nailed ahead while the obsidian one casted about like a nervous horse. The lank of my raven black hair kept flopping forward and getting in the way. The greasy sheen of it picked up the moonlight. That was good. I was going to need that moonlight later.
The flock of fireflies I had flying in formation in a circle a foot out from my waist lit the way and kept me protected from the Real Dark like a hula hoop of landing lights.
I stepped forward carefully.
The Nightmare Fetus popped out of the ground in front of me like toast from a toaster and hovered at head height. He looked at me side-on like a bird. His magnified fishy eye was framed by his monocle. His top hat was perched jauntily on his oversized head. He stared at me, chewing on the end of his cigarette holder and waiting for something like applause, I guess. He must have been waiting there for hours under the leaves and dirt. His softbubble glinted underneath the far-from-the-city sky.
Little Nightmare Fetus. So theatrical. It was night, I guess, and it was a full moon. This is the Dark Wood. I guess I could let him get up to a little spookery. It’s just that he was almost saying “Ta-daaaa!”
“Message?” I demanded.
“Uh, yes. Yer marjesty.” Ennem coughed out. “Uh, the ficklewood. It’s not biting today. She’s arrrrrrr….otherwise indispoooooosed” he added, throwing a squeamish leer on the ooooo’s. He did a little somersault in the air like an antigravity dolphin.
Looks like the ficklewood and the meantree were ‘game on’ as the saplings were saying here in the forest these days.
“Ah. Well. Good news, then. Thank you Ennem. That will be all.” I said. He flippered away in the air with boneless legs like some kind of giant flesh coloured sperm with a top hat.
I kept walking forward, chuckling. I disappeared into the darkness. Calming.
tags