From The Grey Forest - Second Teaser

Another taster from my ongoing horror novel project, From The Grey Forest.

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Mr Adley’s just sort of hanging there, flopped over the branch like a fish out of water. There’s no sign of a struggle; just the haunting distortion on his face. Every one of his wrinkles looks creased and broken. If I didn’t know better I’d just think it was an old mannequin someone tossed out to save on trash takeout.

But I’ve seen a lot of dead bodies in my time. In worse states too. Shanked, beaten and bruised, left to bleed out on the concrete. They never died under my hands at least. I would’ve gotten so many more years if that were the case. Still, none I’ve seen were anything as…disturbing as this. His eyes are more glazed over than a corner shop doughnut.

Okay, that was a disgusting comparison. I can’t stop focusing on them though. They’re just so slimy. The way the light shimmers off the film makes me want to peel it off like grape skin. I vomit a little thinking about it. I hate how his open mouth is so perfectly round and wide enough for a squishy eyeball. Nausea causes shivers down my arms. Against my better instincts they lift themselves up towards Mr Adley’s face. My fingertips get so close, barely stroking the skin of his cheek. So soft, almost cloud like. The little whiskers on his chin feel like whispers of wind, sifting through the gaps, drifting away. This isn’t so unsettling after all.

“Chrys don’t touch it!”

The voice snaps me back to reality and once again I’m faced with the dead body of the tailor. My body jerks, accidentally knocking him from the precarious position in the tree. He slides to the floor, slumped over in the mud. I feel a gentle, yet forceful tug on my shirt collar pulling me backwards. I comply without thinking. Griswold steps in between me and the body. He glances me a stern eye, the kind a worried parent would give their child after doing something stupid. He’s never been this serious. It’s only been two weeks, but I never even expected him to be this serious. The pale boy kneels down beside the old guy. He does a few checks I’ve seen him do a few times to the dead animals. But then he suddenly stands up, whips around snatches my hand and does the same. After a moment, there’s a frown. A couple of inky drops trickle down over it.

“I’m…so sorry”

And now, I’m worried for real.

“Griswold, buddy, what do you mean?” I ask, putting on my tough guy voice. In response, all he does is throw his skinny arms around me. I’d usually flinch at the hug, but there’s a sense of real warmth about it. It’s comforting.

This is wrong.

Griswold lets go and steps a few paces backwards, over Mr Adley’s body, until he’s out of arm’s reach. I try a step forward but he shakes his head.

“Please, just…stay still”

When I see him reach for the bow and arrow on his back a rapid firing of thoughts are shot down one by one. My first instinct is to fight. Then to run. Then to use Adley as cover. Then someone screams ‘stay’ in my head. My legs go nowhere.

Great. Traitor friends put me here and traitor friends are going take me right back out.

What a fucking life I’ve lived.

“Just kill me already you son of a-“

A woosh. Two sources of pain pierce my lower leg. Shit, this is nothing like getting stabbed!

I collapse backwards, eyes watering from the sensation of cold fire gnawing its way into my muscles. Before I can scream Griswold clamps a hand around my mouth. I settle for expressing as many filthy obscenities at his lifeless eyes as possible. However, when he removes the hand and strokes it through my hair I can’t seem to find the words.

“Please…you need to stay still” He whispers again. Confused, I nod weakly. Following him with my eyes, he proceeds to lean down towards my leg to remove his arrow and…something else. A white, slender fox-like creature wrapped tightly around my leg. What looks like its mouth is clamped around the wound, with the arrow sticking straight through it. As Griswold leans his hand closer it bites harder, at which point I can’t hold back a scream. He pushes through and forcefully removes the arrow. Blood streaks out of the open vessel. The strange creature shudders, flopping about in frustration until it settles down, eventually dissipating into the mist.

I feel those arms wrap themselves once again around my shoulders and a head bury into mine. I feel relieved.

“Ah, sorry buddy. Guess it was a bit silly to assume you were going to kill me” I say, trying to comfort him. He mumbles something but his mouth is obscured.

“Buddy you’re gonna have to speak up”

He lifts his head very slowly. A pounding headache develops as he moves away. As I groan a little he rubs his hand on my forehead, over a couple of…nubs?

Three droplets of ink fall onto my cheeks.

“I’m sorry…you have to end up…like me”