Author note: Feel free to give whatever criticisms you deem necessary but please keep the swearing to a minimum. You can dislike my story without resulting to overuse of vulgarity, otherwise feel free to speak your mind on it without your comments being removed.
An endless forest of pitch black trees and gnarled brushes surrounded me; I couldn't remember why I had come this far out in the dead of night nor why I'd only brought my silver lighter to lead my path. There was naught but the slow sound of wind flowing from one tree to the next to keep me company in the dark. Suddenly all was dark. The flame of my lighter gone out. I struggled, hoping beyond hope that it would relight to no avail. Then a single bloodcurdling scream met my ears, bouncing from one tree to the next, echoing far and wide as the sound drew closer. I knew there was no staying there. I had to move from this place.
I did begin my flight from the scene, running as fast as my tired legs would carry me, the sound growing louder still hurting my ears. The trees began to grow closer together around me as with every step the color fading from the branches, which began twisting together to form the walls of a demented maze. The soft sounds of dew-covered grass beneath my feet were soon replaced by the sound of boot on ash-covered cobblestone, the walls themselves becoming burning hot to the touch, as if a great inferno await just beyond the black wooden walls.
It was then that my eyes did fall onto a large red mahogany door inscribed with all manner of unsettling occult symbols which burned themselves into my eyes, and cooked their way into my endlessly pounding heart. The doorknob was ice-cold to the touch, and there was not a sound from the other side. I swung the door open, and slammed it loudly behind myself with a clang. As I pressed my full body-weight against the door I felt the repeated slam of something trying it's best to break through, and I feared that it wouldn't be long before it got in. I found there was a door bolt on this otherwise unusual door, which I slammed down quickly to further impede following entity. With this done I turned to see what I had to work with only to find an odd clearing in the forest.
The ground was like grass made from cracked concrete with ash covering its surface and was like ice to the touch. After a moment, the only sounds once again were my heart, pounding as if ready to burst from my chest, and my slow march through crunching grass; the world proved to be all too silent as the creature on the other side of the door had apparently given up its chase. The gnarled trees on the outskirts of the clearing were so tightly woven they may as well have been walls in and of themselves with glowing fruit providing a minimum amount of illumination for my surroundings. As I gazed about my attention was stolen by a gargantuan apple tree of twisted metal and rust that appeared as if it had torn right through the ground as if it were little more than paper. It's branches were gnarled and twisted with barbed wire growing from its surface and a number of coffin like growths protruding from its base. From this man-made tree hung a single apple, vibrant and colorful like nothing I'd ever seen before.
It shone bright as the heavens themselves, brighter then the sun, and as I looked on towards it I felt something calling to me. It was like a million voices had crawled inside of my head and began singing out their siren song. The fruit of the garden of Eden awaited, unguarded and ripe for the taking. I felt most compelled to hold the fruit in my grasp, to taste of the sweet knowledge held within. Clack. Clack. Clack as my feet moved one after the other, bringing me closer to the base of the structure, that wondrous singing growing louder, the surroundings warming up. Before I knew it, my hand had clasped the fruit.
As I took that first bite from the golden apple, the tree began to twist and deform itself, the many deep set knots churning, twisting, and bubbling into a great many tormented faces, masks of flesh and bone, the eyes plucked from their skulls. The angelic singing that had tempted me here turned suddenly back to the screaming from before, the apple fell to the ground as I clutched at my own head. The faces began to pull themselves from the tree, bodies forming to match. They moved as shambling corpses, stumbling closer and closer and as I backed away I saw them for what they were, even through their cracked facades. I had sent them here. I hadn't a second thought in the heat of the moment cutting them down as little more than mere obstacles, but the sheer number of them left me te-
"Wait wait," Chariton chimed in the contents of his wine bottle sloshing about illuminated by the fire. "You're telling me you remember all of that ████ing detail from a god████ dream?" Chariton was a tower of a man, taller then anyone else in the small group of stalkers by a good foot and a half. His hair had long since gone white over the years, though age had not slowed him down as he was perhaps in the best shape of anyone in the group. His speech was slurred from a long night spent drinking with the boys, but even still he looked ready for a fight in his faded sunrise suit. "I call ████ing bull████ on this one, friend." The bottle in his hand clanking about as it bumped against the crumbling concrete beneath their feet. "I don't care if you're the Guide himself, no one can remember that much detail from a dream."
"You know he's right Alexy" Leo, a much younger if not much smaller gentlemen in an almost identical sunrise suit with goggles hanging around his neck and bottle of gin in hand, speaking in his deep gravely voice. "You talk more ████ than ten men." His other hand stoking the fire separating the men from one another. "Masks climbing out of a tree covered in coffins? I've had ████ed up dreams in my time, but you're telling yours like a ████ ghost story." His voice sounding much more amused as he points out the absurdity of it all. "I mean you've even got ████ing Artur beat when it comes to making ████ up."
Artur had been standing guard over the group of drinking men for hours without a word, though that one comment was enough to illicit a quick response. "Käi pers." He called out over his shoulder in an unhappy tone, turning with his groza in one hand two fingers held up on the other in a vulgar gesture.
Leo called back loudly with a bit of a smile on his face. "Love you to Artur", only getting another two-finger salute in response as the foreign man turned to his duties of guarding their camp. He was the closest thing to a doctor out of anyone in their little group, and yet no one knew anything about Artur other then that he was good with a gun, and good with a needle.
"Come on guys, I'm telling the truth! You have to believe me!" Alexy was the youngest out of the lot of them, still in his early twenties. He'd come to the zone only a few weeks ago looking to get his first big story, and perhaps get even a chance to catch a glimpse wishgranter, but ever since his arrival things had been harder than expected.
Looking down towards his own badly damaged sunrise he thought back to how traumatic it had been the first time he'd been forced to kill a man. He remembered the feeling as he watched the life drain from his eyes and how it took him weeks before he stopped vomiting just when thinking about it. Had that really changed him? Was that why he was having this same nightmare night after night? It was eight months ago, and yet it still felt like just yesterday.