Playtime in the Pines: Chapter 2

The stillness was absolute. For a long moment, time seemed suspended in the wide, snow-covered meadow. The spectacle the crowd had just witnessed had left everyone mesmerized.

That was the point.

While the humans stood agape, bedazzled by the display, the fairies of the forest (who very much preferred the ancient term, “fae”) prepared the next little surprise in the plan they'd devised and perfected over the years they'd spent pretending.

They hadn't asked for the company of these soft, stupid interlopers. This forest was theirs. It had been theirs since the dawn of time and only curiosity had prevented the fae from disposing of them en masse at the first signs of the pending invasion.

The Council had thought it better to study these huge, magic-less bags of flesh, while disguised as cute, benevolent little imps granting wishes. Today, finally, it was time to drop the facade.

The sky that had been so brilliant just moments before went dark. A child screamed, then another. Glowing, red eyes appeared out of nowhere, set in short, shadowy figures that darted in and dragged victim after fear-stricken victim away, into the trees. By the time the parents had recovered from their stupor, the meadow was deathly quiet again.

Rushing at breakneck speed over the familiar trails, the fae hauled their big, strong new servants deep into their shadowy realm. The other folk of the forest wondered at their coarse laughter echoing from the distant hills.