CHAPTER 2, THE JOURNEY
In the dark , fathomless depths of the night, a shining beacon was moving down an abandoned back road through mountainous forests casting eerie shadows on the twisted barks of multitudes of tree's as it advanced. The light was coming off of the headlights of a car. Inside the car, as was always the case with moving vehicles of this sort, there was a person. A man. As he fought to stay awake, he took advantage of the long straight ahead of him to look at the screwed up map he had thrown on the seat next to him. He grasped his hand around the plastic cup in the holder folded out of the glove compartment and took a sip of the cold coffee, before throwing the cup out of the car window. It hit the road and bounced harshly a few times, spilling its contents on the roadside before coming to rest in a ditch full of rainwater. It wasn't raining at the minute though, It was snowing. Strange, its only July, but hell, stranger things have happened. The man traced a long harshly scrawled red line drawn on the map until he hit his supposed destination, prodding it triumphantly with his finger before tossing the map back to its original resting place. As his eyes slowly raised back to the road, a black shadow spun past the headlights and into the trees, faster than any feasible creature should. The man reactively swerved the car, screeching the brakes down. The sound of the tires grinding across the grit-covered road disturbed the whole of the surrounding forest, and birds of all shapes and sizes flocked to the sky like a foreboding black cloud before dispersing into race-determined groups. Deep in the background noise, a wolf could be heard signaling to the other members of the pack, and a concerto of howls proceeded to ring through the silence. The man sat, grasping the wheel of his old American estate wagon, foot still pressed firmly on the brake, sweat beads forming on his forehead. He had not blinked in the 4 seconds that had passed since the shadow had caused the aforementioned events, nor had he moved. He reached under the dashboard of his car and pulled a knob. A click could be heard and the trunk of the car swung partially open. He grasped his hand around the handle of the door, and opened it, as quietly as he could. He walked around his car in the dark, dimly lit forest, moving purely by the illumination caused by his car headlights. All that could be heard was the man's heart, his heavy breathing and his footsteps in the gravely road. He opened the trunk, and fumbled around in the dark for a few seconds before finding what he was looking for. He knew it by the feel of cold metal against his fingers, and picked up the crowbar in his trunk. He raised it like some kind of finely sharpened sword, and stepped off the road, one foot only in the woods to make him feel secure.
"ANYONE THERE?!?" he shouted, answered only by another flock of birds and some louder, closer howls.
Suddenly, behind him, he heard a childlike laughter erupt from the silent dark. He spun round to be met with nothing other than his car door swaying partially shut. He once again raised the crowbar above his head and stepped towards the car. Suddenly, he felt something grab at his toes and pull him to the ground with force. As he hit, he screamed, and scurried away from the spot on his stomach, pulled himself to his feet, raised his weapon and turned into.
Nothing. He looked to the ground and saw a rock on the floor, obviously the cause of his tripping. Another bout of laughter could be heard, this time along with the crunching of leaves as some.thing ran away through the forest. He wasn't waiting around to find out what it was. He ran back to the car, threw the crowbar to the ground and wrenched the door of the car open. He stepped inside and grabbed the door, slamming it shut and turned the car.
His fingers met air instead of the metallic steel of his car key. He looked up to see his sun-guard pulled down, instead of being closed and holding his spare keys. He looked on the floor around the wheel, under the pedals, under the seat, but they were nowhere. As he looked up, he saw a small child, no older than 5 or 6 stood in the headlights of his car, smiling at him and waving his car keys playfully, fully visible except for the top of his face, which was obscured by the limited light of the headlights. He fumbled in the glove compartment and produced a small flashlight usually used for fixing his car. Not much, but considering the circumstances. He opened the door and held his hand out to the laughing child.
"look kid, they're not yours. Give em back and it'll all be ok"
This seemed to have no effect on the child
"Are you out here on your own kid? Its dangerous out here, look give me the keys and we can both go back to town together and then call your parents up and it'll all be fine"
The laughing stopped, and this remark seemed to provoke a response.
"No you won't! you just want to hurt me. you're just like the others"
"look kid, just give me the keys. If you don't want to come back with me that's fine, you can camp out tonight or something, I dunno, but just give me my keys!"
"No!"
"Give me the damn keys you little shit!"
"SEE?! You just want to hurt me too! They all just want to hurt me!"
The child dropped to his knees and began to weep. The leaves crunched under the weight of the tiny body and small pitter patter noises accompanied the falling tears rolling through the child's hands. The man approached him cautiously and reached his hand out to comfort the child. Then, faster than lightning, a sweeping arc of black swept the child into the darkness obscured to vision by the limited headlights, leaving nothing but the mans car keys. The man himself fell backwards onto the floor, tears rolling down his face. He'd never cried before, but fear, true fear, does strange things to people. All that could be heard now was the piercing crying of the child in the night. Even the wolves had silenced to listen to the deranged crescendo. He crawled towards the keys until he could just about reach them if he stretched his arm out all the way, and grabbed them. He ran. He ran as fast as he could to his car, opened the door, jammed the keys in the hole and started the engine. As he accelerated, he slammed the door shut, and as he did so, the crying outside stopped. Now, silence. Nothing could be heard. Not even the heart of the man. Nothing but true, unnerving, discomforting silence. The engines of the car squealed in mechanical pain as the accelerator was pressed down to the floor, and the car sped off into the night and out of the forest. The man continued on his journey.
Unaware that he had just been on a journey himself.
without leaving the comfort of his own head.
In the dark , fathomless depths of the night, a shining beacon was moving down an abandoned back road through mountainous forests casting eerie shadows on the twisted barks of multitudes of tree's as it advanced. The light was coming off of the headlights of a car. Inside the car, as was always the case with moving vehicles of this sort, there was a person. A man. As he fought to stay awake, he took advantage of the long straight ahead of him to look at the screwed up map he had thrown on the seat next to him. He grasped his hand around the plastic cup in the holder folded out of the glove compartment and took a sip of the cold coffee, before throwing the cup out of the car window. It hit the road and bounced harshly a few times, spilling its contents on the roadside before coming to rest in a ditch full of rainwater. It wasn't raining at the minute though, It was snowing. Strange, its only July, but hell, stranger things have happened. The man traced a long harshly scrawled red line drawn on the map until he hit his supposed destination, prodding it triumphantly with his finger before tossing the map back to its original resting place. As his eyes slowly raised back to the road, a black shadow spun past the headlights and into the trees, faster than any feasible creature should. The man reactively swerved the car, screeching the brakes down. The sound of the tires grinding across the grit-covered road disturbed the whole of the surrounding forest, and birds of all shapes and sizes flocked to the sky like a foreboding black cloud before dispersing into race-determined groups. Deep in the background noise, a wolf could be heard signaling to the other members of the pack, and a concerto of howls proceeded to ring through the silence. The man sat, grasping the wheel of his old American estate wagon, foot still pressed firmly on the brake, sweat beads forming on his forehead. He had not blinked in the 4 seconds that had passed since the shadow had caused the aforementioned events, nor had he moved. He reached under the dashboard of his car and pulled a knob. A click could be heard and the trunk of the car swung partially open. He grasped his hand around the handle of the door, and opened it, as quietly as he could. He walked around his car in the dark, dimly lit forest, moving purely by the illumination caused by his car headlights. All that could be heard was the man's heart, his heavy breathing and his footsteps in the gravely road. He opened the trunk, and fumbled around in the dark for a few seconds before finding what he was looking for. He knew it by the feel of cold metal against his fingers, and picked up the crowbar in his trunk. He raised it like some kind of finely sharpened sword, and stepped off the road, one foot only in the woods to make him feel secure.
"ANYONE THERE?!?" he shouted, answered only by another flock of birds and some louder, closer howls.
Suddenly, behind him, he heard a childlike laughter erupt from the silent dark. He spun round to be met with nothing other than his car door swaying partially shut. He once again raised the crowbar above his head and stepped towards the car. Suddenly, he felt something grab at his toes and pull him to the ground with force. As he hit, he screamed, and scurried away from the spot on his stomach, pulled himself to his feet, raised his weapon and turned into.
Nothing. He looked to the ground and saw a rock on the floor, obviously the cause of his tripping. Another bout of laughter could be heard, this time along with the crunching of leaves as some.thing ran away through the forest. He wasn't waiting around to find out what it was. He ran back to the car, threw the crowbar to the ground and wrenched the door of the car open. He stepped inside and grabbed the door, slamming it shut and turned the car.
His fingers met air instead of the metallic steel of his car key. He looked up to see his sun-guard pulled down, instead of being closed and holding his spare keys. He looked on the floor around the wheel, under the pedals, under the seat, but they were nowhere. As he looked up, he saw a small child, no older than 5 or 6 stood in the headlights of his car, smiling at him and waving his car keys playfully, fully visible except for the top of his face, which was obscured by the limited light of the headlights. He fumbled in the glove compartment and produced a small flashlight usually used for fixing his car. Not much, but considering the circumstances. He opened the door and held his hand out to the laughing child.
"look kid, they're not yours. Give em back and it'll all be ok"
This seemed to have no effect on the child
"Are you out here on your own kid? Its dangerous out here, look give me the keys and we can both go back to town together and then call your parents up and it'll all be fine"
The laughing stopped, and this remark seemed to provoke a response.
"No you won't! you just want to hurt me. you're just like the others"
"look kid, just give me the keys. If you don't want to come back with me that's fine, you can camp out tonight or something, I dunno, but just give me my keys!"
"No!"
"Give me the damn keys you little shit!"
"SEE?! You just want to hurt me too! They all just want to hurt me!"
The child dropped to his knees and began to weep. The leaves crunched under the weight of the tiny body and small pitter patter noises accompanied the falling tears rolling through the child's hands. The man approached him cautiously and reached his hand out to comfort the child. Then, faster than lightning, a sweeping arc of black swept the child into the darkness obscured to vision by the limited headlights, leaving nothing but the mans car keys. The man himself fell backwards onto the floor, tears rolling down his face. He'd never cried before, but fear, true fear, does strange things to people. All that could be heard now was the piercing crying of the child in the night. Even the wolves had silenced to listen to the deranged crescendo. He crawled towards the keys until he could just about reach them if he stretched his arm out all the way, and grabbed them. He ran. He ran as fast as he could to his car, opened the door, jammed the keys in the hole and started the engine. As he accelerated, he slammed the door shut, and as he did so, the crying outside stopped. Now, silence. Nothing could be heard. Not even the heart of the man. Nothing but true, unnerving, discomforting silence. The engines of the car squealed in mechanical pain as the accelerator was pressed down to the floor, and the car sped off into the night and out of the forest. The man continued on his journey.
Unaware that he had just been on a journey himself.
without leaving the comfort of his own head.