The People of the Woods

Prologue

Pray that the snarling beasts get you before the Woodens


Lend me your ear and I will tell you the tale of the Woodens.

Beings that masquerade as humans and swing from the trees like animals.

The woods are no place for someone like you or me.

There are things, grievous things, beyond our comprehension that exist, hiding behind the thick bark of the daunting trees.

Everything has a spirit.

From the moment your feet leave the soft wispy grass to rest upon the leaf-covered floor you've already gone too far.

The trees will pull you in. They will whisper to you, carrying their promises on the wind that will circle your head and caress your neck.

"Come," they will say, but all you will hear is the pleasant twitter of finches.

"Seek us," they will tell you, and your feet will careen across the soil, further and further into the danger of the woods; your mind completely lost to the soft hum of the wind.

If you choose to make a bed of the leaves, they will cloak you in comfort you never believed was possible.

"Lay down you head," the fallen foliage will whisper to you.

"You're safe here," they'll coo.

And joy will fill your heart as you continue to walk.

Deeper and deeper.

Your eyes will flit to the green and yellow birds hopping from branch to branch singing just for you. You will let them guide you, until suddenly they will no longer appear.

By the time you look up and wake out of the daze the wind held you in, you've left the safe clearing and are hidden among the hundreds of trees that corner you with their hefty branches.

Every turn will look the same.

Every tree will be one that you remember.

And the sounds will grow more frightening with every passing minute.

Chirps get replaced by growls. Tweets with cackles.

And up above you, watching you until just the right moment are the Woodens.

Wood people, unlike you and me, wearing their kills with pride all over their bodies.

They swing through the trees like spider monkeys and trek on the earth like elk. They seem like nymphs, magically enticing, possessing eyes that pierce you to your very soul.

And when they extend their hand to you, you will take it though you know you shouldn't.

Pray that the snarling beasts get you before the Woodens.

For they will devour your heart from your chest while your eyes still gaze at them in wonder.

Far beyond the plain, past the whispering willows, deep within the grooves of the sodden earth is a place very few dare to venture and even fewer come back from.