The Encounter in the Woods

"Jay!" Tony screamed. Most of the death that would take place already had. The city was in ruins. Red and blue flashing lights painted the scene of deserted buildings lining the debris-infested streets. Overturned or desolate emergency vehicles were the cause of these lights. SUVs, Chevrolets, Mitsubishis, etc. littered the area. Some were crashed into buildings while others were just smashed to bits.

Many dead bodies dotted the ground. Some were partially eaten. Males, females, children, elderly, all were at the party. Fuck even the infants had shown up. No demons were in sight. No Two-Heads (Tony's name for the two-headed demon with burnt skin), Brownies (his name for the tall, fire-ball chucking demons), or Bulls (his name for the pink, gorilla-like nightmares that snarled like pigs). No Flying Skulls and no Brains. Not a demon was stirring. Thank God.

"Jay!" Tony screamed again, searching for the brother that had limped away from him what seemed like three billion millenniums ago. No answer came that was not the silent yet loud howl and moan of the wind. No answer save for the crackling of flames. No answer save for static crackling through one or more of the emergency vehicles.

"JAY!" Tony tried again. He had been doing this for nearly twenty minutes, walking from desolate area to desolate area screaming his brother's name, feebly hoping against hope that there would come an answer. Finally, however, he stopped. There would never be an answer. Never again. Never more.

Tony opened an Oldsmobile station wagon's door and looked inside. One door was missing in the back and the upholstery was torn to ribbons, appearing to be covered in snow with the white innards pulled out in several places. The windshield was spider-webbed on the passenger side and a lot of blood (human?) covered the windshield on the driver side. The steering wheel and dashboard were coated in coagulated blood. Two fingers, still connected by a small bit of hand, were wrapped around the handle of the glove box, which was hanging open. He wondered where the bodies were and if there were survivors.

He forced those thoughts into the back of his mind. The only thing that mattered right now was whether there were keys in the ignition or not. He checked. There were. He didn't feel like a million bucks. He didn't feel like the luckiest man alive. He felt nothing. Dully noting that he had just gained an advantage in the back of his mind, he turned the ignition on.
There were no tears and there was no smile. He felt nothing for his more than likely dead brother. No remorse or pity… or envy.

The engine became alive and Tony slightly depressed the gas pedal. The tires began to roll slowly across the tar, cracking small bits of glass and crushing dead bodies beneath them. The ride was bumpy and Tony became annoyed with it very quickly. But he didn't eject himself from the vehicle and he didn't stop driving.

Soon the road was clear for the most part and he could pick up the speed. The buildings were lower and spaced further apart here. The business buildings became apartment buildings and the apartment buildings became houses. He was two streets away from the one he used to live on. The one he lived on yesterday.

He reduced his speed and began to cry… again. His eyes scanned the world through his tears, searching for his brother. Images of the Brain returned to his mind and he decided it would be best if he didn't linger. It was probably around still. Perhaps still hunting for him.

There were Mechanical Bulls, Brownies, and Two-Heads scattered around, playing with the carcasses of the dead. Tearing them apart piece by piece as if they were morphed clones of Ed Gein and wanted to decorate whatever passed for their residences with the deceased. A few threw glances at him, but none really cared for him now that they had dead bodies to toy around with apparently. Perhaps these creatures didn't give a shit about the killing, just the results of killing.

Tony kept driving for minutes that stretched on and on and on… becoming miniature eternities that got off on his boredom and misery. Each second seeming five times longer than the road laid before him.

A few Flying Skulls were gently hovering across the road, the fire causing the air just above them to twist and twirl like a computer effect. Tony drove beneath them and they didn't throw him a second glance. He didn't understand it in the least. Vaguely he realized he had stopped crying and that he could see clearly again. Just as ambiguously he realized that he had just defecated into the seat of his pants.

He turned off the road and into a parking lot for a Wal-Mart. He pulled up to the doors and killed the engine. As silently as he could manage with feces squishing about in his pants he snuck through the broken doors and entered the nearly pitch-black supermarket. It seemed almost cavernous.

Fear caused him to go back outside and into his new car. He turned the ignition on and drove out of the parking lot. No fucking way was he going to travel through a huge space that he couldn't see in. It was probably full of dead bodies and ghosts anyway. If demons were walking the Earth… fuck, why not ghosts? Why not aliens from OUTTER SPACCCCEEEE? Why not Area 51? Why not dimensional portals in the fucking Bermuda Triangle? And, furthermore, why not vampires, werewolves, leprechauns, living dolls with malicious intent, or gnomes?

Tony began to chuckle to himself as things began to run through his mind. Perhaps he could pay Frodo Baggins or Samwise Gamgee a visit while he went on his merry way to the Chocolate Factory. This made him flat-out laugh. The laughter was loud and joyous if a bit insane. It ended when he hit the desolate cadaver of a small car and sent it off the road.

His head connected with the air bag, which sent it right back into the head rest. He hadn't been wearing his seat belt, something that he was, at the moment, happy for. No chest pains. Just head and neck pains. Luckily he had only been going twenty instead of thirty or forty.

The car was still going, though, his foot still depressing the gas pedal. He couldn't see where he was going or hold the steering wheel. For a moment he contemplated just letting it go until he was dead. Just speeding blindly down the street until he collided with a tree, demon, car, body of water, or all of the above and joined the millions already dead. When the vehicle began to rumble upon going off road he panicked and quickly abandoned this plan. He let the gas pedal relax and slammed down on the brakes. The car came to a stop and Tony sat there, resting on the airbag. His head was swimming and he felt like he was going to throw up.

He fumbled for the door handle and forced the door open. The vomit came forth like the Niagara Falls, spraying against part of the door and dripping down to the field, which now had tire tracks where there used to be grass. Tony stopped puking and rested back against the airbag, his nose wrinkled at the sour smell and his teeth gritted at the sour aftertaste. It was all fucked up. Every bit of it.

Tony cried yet again. This time it was loud, unrestrained, and for no real reason. For several minutes that flew by like seconds he bawled, tears streaming and sobs echoing. It came to a subtle stop. Like an experienced winter driver coasting along the side of a snowy road before fully ceasing to move. Then he did nothing but rest with his eyes closed. It felt so good.

He finally fell asleep.


Several hours later the sun was down and he was awake. At first he didn't know where he was, wondering why his pillow felt so strange. Wondering why his bed was angled to allow him to sit. Wondering why his room was so small and only seats. Wondering why he could hear crickets chirping and gunshots in the far distance.

Then it all came back and, without thinking, he punched the part of the door he could reach. He hissed in pain and grabbed at his bleeding knuckle. The meat of his fist had been sliced apart by the hinge of the door. He sucked it for several moments and then pressed it hard against his jeans. The blood wasn't coming forth too badly. It did hurt like hell, though.

"For fuck's sake!" he groaned, wallowing in his misery. His voice cracking. "Why does this kind of shit always happen to me? Why am I such a fucking piece shit? Why… Why the fuck? Why the fuck? WHY THE FUCK?" Tony sucked on his fist again and was surprised at the warmth of his blood. It tasted kind of good.

Adrenaline began to surge through his system and he rolled out of the car, falling to the ground. His legs refused to get under him. He moaned and lifted his hand out of the puddle of vomit he had created before he had slept. The legs of his jeans became damp as the wetness of the vomit puddle soaked all around them. Adrenaline was still speeding through him, but he couldn't get his legs to get under him and he couldn't get himself to force them to. Thinking about everything that had happened was making it all worse… giving him more energy that he wouldn't use.

He felt like sleeping again. Strange, he had slept for so long he should be up and at 'em… but he wanted sleep even more. The moon and the stars shined down upon him and they seemed too bright. He closed his eyes and began to drift in and out of consciousness for a while. Nothing happened around him. The gunfire became silent and all that could be heard was Tony's breathing and the chirping crickets. Bats flapped their wings in the sky, mere silhouettes in front of the moon and the stars.
Finally Tony pulled himself up off the ground. His legs were wobbly and cold, the vomit-induced dampness cooled by the night wind uncomfortably. He began to walk away from the stolen car and back to the street. It would take such a long time to walk anywhere in that direction. So the sooner he started the better. Hungry, thirsty, and weak, Tony began to walk down the long
road, leaving behind him food, water, and other survivors.


An hour or so later Tony sat down in the middle of the road that was no enclosed on both sides by large, thick collections of trees and bushes. He didn't think he'd be able to get much further due to famine and drought. He'd need to look for a river or something close by to drink from. Drinking the toilet water of the fish and amphibians wasn't a very attractive necessity, but it was better than death. Unfortunately it'd be hard to find something in the woods when darkness obscured it all.

He decided to begin his search after a session of sleep. The hardness of the road was so comfortable.

Sleep was denied him, however. He could hear the heavy footsteps of something very close by. Something lingering behind the trees, just out of sight.

Tony opened his eyes and sat up quickly. The trees reached up into the sky like towers and wind blew their leaves and branches about. Tony began to think of ghosts.

Footsteps trailed just beyond his vision, their cause veiled by long shadows. Tony stood up and began to walk away from the thumping of the footsteps. He melded into the shadows on the opposite side of the road. Everything seemed different. The trees surrounding him were suspects of concealing ungodly creatures. The whisper of leaves and the groaning of branches above became voices from another world. Voices from the dead.

He sank deeper into the ocean of salt water shadows. He could hear something following him as he swam as silently as he could to the ocean floor. Leaves crinkling and twigs snapping. Everything was conspiring against him.

Tony slipped through the spaces between trees elegantly while the creature behind him forced them further apart and knocked them over. He wondered if it was pursuing him or if it was just coincidentally going in the same direction as he was. It sure as hell was making a lot of noise for a hunter in action.

For several minutes Tony kept several yards ahead of the large creature following him without breaking out into a panic. His mind was showing him all sorts of things. Images that horrified him. His instincts kept urging him to run. To take off like a bullet and leave the monstrosity somewhere far behind him. The rumbling of his through-and-through empty stomach seemed as loud as a tank rolling through the woods. His throat was so dry it hurt to swallow the small amounts of saliva that he managed to collect in his mouth.

Then Tony stumbled and fell into a small pond. At first he thought the creature had somehow caught up with him and that his insignificant life was about to come to an end. Then he realized he had just fallen into a body of water. He panicked at first and thought of demons awaiting him at the bottom, creatures that could hold their breath for a long, long time as they waited. Creatures that only existed to end his existence.

He propelled himself to the top of the shallow pond and took in several deep, loud breaths of air. Then he began to drink the water without even thinking. Its rancid taste was more delicious than anything he had ever ingested before in his life.

Unfortunately the bliss invoked by the much welcome water was soon obliterated by a feeling of extreme cold and fear. The footsteps were falling very quickly… and coming in his direction.

Tony drew in a quick gasp of air and went down to the bottom of the pond. To keep his head from breaching the surface he had to keep his knees bent and his arms constantly pushing upwards to keep his buoyancy from lifting him up. He couldn't see anything at all but black and the occasional reflection of moonlight from slight ripples at the water's surface.

Then he heard something splash into the water. He was knocked to the side by the onrush of suddenly displaced water. The thing that was following him was now walking towards him in the water and he couldn't see it.

Frantically he began to swim to the other side of the pond and pulled himself out of the water. He swung his damp body around. Now he could see the outline of something gigantic coming towards him. Something that was at least four times his size with legs as thick as tree trunks and only knee-deep in the water that he could become fully submerged in. Its man-sized arms were swinging slightly at its sides as it walked.

Then it stopped while Tony was struggling to his feet, the extra weight of his wet clothes making it difficult for his weakened state. One of its three-clawed hands suddenly became alight with orange flame. Tony got his feet under him and began to run away, greatly hunched over. He got five steps when a fireball the size of his head flew just inches above his head and hit the tree in front of him. The moisture of his eyes evaporated in the resulting conflagration and he began to blink rapidly and doubled over, screaming and rubbing his temporarily useless eyes.

Unlike the fireballs of the Brownies, this blaze did not die out. It spread up and down the tree. The dramatic sight was unseen by the only human close enough to witness it and unappreciated by the hulking demon that had caused it. Tony scrambled blindly for cover as he demon continued its trudge through the pond and onto the land. It understood that it had weakened its prey and now wanted to play with it. The fire spread to three more trees and the night became like day.

Tony began to regain his vision. He paused to look back at his pursuer and saw a blurrily detailed image. Thick, grayish skin was tightly stretched over gigantic muscles. Something red was above the creature's open mouth and he thought he could see saliva dripping outwards. It roared at him something that sounded like a deep-voiced cat yowling.

Tony looked away and continued his almost blind scrambling. He began to dodge trees as he sprinted through the forest, branches scratching his face and arms. Blood from the wounds decreased in thickness as it mixed with the water dripping off his body. He was very cold and the wind from the run was making it worse. God he wanted his own personal sun. That and food. Food would've really hit the spot for him.

His vision continued to clear and he began to dodge the branches that had been scratching him as he ran. The world became a
blur again as all rational thought was pushed out in favor of instinct. Things ceased to make sense, but that didn't matter because they didn't need to make sense. He needed a drink of water again.The rigid, numb excuses for his legs thumped uncomfortably against the ground and he feared that at any moment in time one of his knees would bend the wrong way and he would cease to run.

The creature was somewhere close behind him, running to keep him from getting away. The light of the fire was traveling not too far behind it, spraying black smoke into the sky that was masked by the blackness of the sky.

Tony emerged from the surface of the ocean of salt water shadows and darted across the road beyond. A speeding car
honked its horn and the driver spun his wheel to avoid hitting Tony. Instead it slammed into the tree trunk legs of his pursuer. The driver was instantly killed, his blood sprayed against the windshield and his children in the back as the car's front folded inwards. Tony could hear shrill shrieking. The monster toppled over with a broken leg and crushed the car flat, killing the kids in the back and itself as shards of metal drove themselves up between its ribs and into its organs. The shrieking discontinued. The gas tank was not ruptured in a major way and an explosion did not ensue.Tony's head was spinning as he came to an abrupt stop by hitting the ground and skidding along it. He looked behind him and saw the spreading light of fire illuminate the dead, twenty foot body of a creature that had no right in any way, shape, or form to exist. It'd didn't surpass the Brain in deadliness or eccentricity, but it was just so large.Without another second's delay Tony's head fell to the ground and he descended into the welcome tranquility of the world of dreams.