The Forest

Some say that the old forest was haunted. She could certainly see why they would say that. It’d been around a long time, growing more and more gnarled over the course of centuries. It’d seen its fair share of death since its birth.

The old path was more of a trench, the earth being worn down after thousands of feet walked over it, the sides walled by dirt and tree roots. The light from the sky above didn’t shine through often, only occasionally breaking through the dense layer of branches. The twisted canopy formed a sort of arch over the path, twisting and weaving with one another to make it even harder for the sun to penetrate it.

You’d need a lantern if you were to walk the path, regardless of the time of day. Once you were five minutes in, the light was dim at best, and if you wanted to know where you were placing your feet, you needed an extra light. Only the most confident went in without a lantern, and they didn’t always come back out.

Isra was not one of those confident individuals.

She held onto her lantern tightly, holding it up to eye level as she walked. It was getting late, and what little sunlight to be found in the forest was fading fast. A mist was falling over the old forest, slowly obscuring things even further. But here she was, still trying to get to the other side.

She wasn’t even sure what was on the other side. Another village? A shrine? A hermit’s house? She didn’t know anyone who went down the path and came back to tell what was on the other side. Anyone from her humble village that ventured in didn’t go far, getting spooked and hurrying back before the sun even began to sink. Perhaps she would be the first to make it all the way.

This wasn’t an attempt to try and prove herself, mind. She wasn’t trying to prove her bravery, or trying to look impressive. In all honesty, she wasn’t entirely sure why she was in the middle of a supposedly haunted forest, all on her own, armed only with a small knife and a lantern. Maybe she was trying to prove something to herself. Maybe it was something else entirely, something she didn’t know or understand. Regardless of why she was here, she was, and perhaps it was too late to turn back now.

She tried to ignore how the gnarled tree branches loomed over her, like monsters watching her, waiting for her focus and concentration to slip just long enough for them to lunge. As much as Isra tried to shake off such thoughts, there was still this underlying sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. This feeling of eyes following her every step, watching her lantern bob along the path. It made her want to drop the lantern, to get rid of this beacon so that the eyes would lose track of her. But that lantern was the only thing ensuring that she remained on the path, rather than wandering off and into the trees, never to be seen again.

There were stories, told in dark nights around the fire to pass the time. Stories about individuals who wandered into the forest, only to abandon their lanterns at some point and wander into the trees. These stories never came from people who came back. Those who wandered off the path never returned to their little village. Isra had only heard of one occasion where someone managed to return, but they came back… changed. No one knew why, or how. It was never asked, and she couldn’t find the words to ask herself.

She wondered if the people who never returned felt the eyes on them, like she felt. If they felt like someone or something was watching their lantern, watching as they went down the path, always out of sight, but ever trailing along. What thoughts went through their head? Did their hearts jump into their throats whenever they saw a suspicious shadow? Did their stomach churn with uncertainty as they continued putting one foot in front of the other? A part of her hoped that was the case. If only to feel a little less alone.

She wasn’t sure how far the sun had sunk, unable to tell through the thick canopy of leaves and branches overhead. Even in the dead of winter, the canopy was dense, making it impossible for light to filter through. A part of her wondered how anything managed to grow on the forest floor, but logic dictated that these plants were connected to whatever was able to get that precious bit of sunlight, syphoning off whatever they could to stay alive.

Damn if they weren’t doing a good job. They appeared to be thriving.

Isra paused by an old tree, looking around quietly, trying to shine some light from her lantern to see if she could get a closer look at everything. The way the shadows bounced off of everything, the tree looked rather like a hunched old man, unable to straighten his back after years of abuse. She looked up at the branches, unable to see through the dense greenery above her head, before taking a deep breath and continuing on.

If she was lucky, she was more than halfway through the forest by now. She’d certainly been walking for hours, and she wasn't sure she could walk for too much longer.

Nagging doubts whispered in the back of her mind. Why’d she even come here? What had she to prove by coming here? There was no rhyme or reason to her venturing in in the first place! She’d no excuse! But here she was, several hours in and with no sign of an end. And she just… kept walking. Like it was a compulsion.

The more she walked, the more Isra thought. There wasn’t much else for her to do, besides put one foot in front of the other. The siren song of the forest was intoxicating, having grown louder and louder the closer she got to the edge, only quieting when she finally stepped past the first line of trees. Now, the siren song was getting louder again, urging her to keep going. Just a little bit further. She was so close, just a little longer.

She didn’t know who or what was singing to her, if anything at all. Maybe she should’ve ignored it entirely, ignored the haunting melody that drew her closer and closer. But it was too late now, wasn’t it? She’d already gotten this deep and turning back didn’t really seem like a viable option.

Even so, she turned around, glancing at the path behind her. Only… that’s odd.

The path seemed to have disappeared behind her.

That’s… not normal.

Isra’s heart jumped into her throat, making it hard to suck in air. She’d made a very poor choice in coming here. But it was too late now. All there was left for her to do was walk. Just… just walk.

She turned back around, pushing forward, trying not to think about how the path was apparently disappearing behind her with every step she took. It was… it was best not to think about that. For her own sanity.

There was a spot of light up ahead, managing to filter through the thick canopy and reach the ground below. Isra picked up the pace, eager to see the sky overhead. Standing in the patch of light, she looked up.

Stars.

There were stars overhead.

Brighter than they’d ever been in her life, just glinting against the dark, indigo blue of the sky.

How long had she been out here? How long had she been walking?

How much longer would she be walking? Was there ever going to be an end?

Isra didn’t move at first, staring up at the stars, suddenly feeling a longing for home, for her little bed and a warm crackling hearth. But it was too late, wasn’t it? She’d come this far, and it was impossible to turn back and head for home.

Part of her wondered how much time had really passed since she’d first entered. It felt like hours, sure, but what if it was more? What if it was days, weeks, months, since she entered? What if it’d been years? Just years of walking down the path, the days slipping past like grains of sand in an hourglass, and she’d not even noticed. Was her little village even still standing? The people she’d left behind… were they still there? Were they still living?

She tore her eyes away from the little patch of starlight overhead and pressed on, shaking the thoughts from her head. It didn’t matter now. It was down the path for her. Down, down, down, going deeper and deeper, maybe never reaching the end.

Maybe there was no end.

Maybe this forest went on forever, this path winding and twisting, never coming to an end, never coming to a close.

Maybe this was her fate, till the end of time.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, walking until the eventual heat death of everything known and unknown. Sure, it was a little lonely, but… there were certainly worse things.

This wasn't the worst thing… right?

Her feet were starting to ache though. She’d been walking for god knows how long, and they were starting to protest. The urge to take a seat at the roots of one of the trees was slowly becoming a more tempting one with each step. Just… just to take a break. Only for a few moments, just long enough to give her feet a rest, to allow them a brief respite from the near constant march forward.

Those tree roots really looked quite inviting, beckoning her over. Calling for her to take a load off, to rest.

But there was this underlying nagging feeling in the back of her head. Whispering over the constant, seductive calls for rest.

Don’t stop. Don’t sit at the tree roots.

She didn’t know what would happen if she did stop, but there was something in the back of her mind that just knew it would mean bad things. It was better to press forward, if only to avoid whatever might happen if she did listen to that seductive melody and sit at the roots of the old, gnarled trees.

And yet… maybe she was just being paranoid? After all, what could happen? What, were the roots going to come alive and drag her into the earth itself? Entomb her so that no one will ever find her bones? Or were the branches going to reach down and lift her up into the dense canopy, where she’d be left to dangle until the inevitable cruelty of gravity finally came for her?

That was… that was just ridiculous! That couldn’t possibly happen!

And yet…

She pressed on, trying to ignore how badly her feet were starting to ache, trying to ignore the blisters forming on her feet, threatening her with every step. It was better to keep moving. Just in case.

Isra just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. First her right foot, then her left. Right foot. Left foot. Right. Left. Just keep pushing forward. Just ignore the pain and move forward.

But… her steps were starting to waver. She was no longer remaining in the centre of the path. Each step she took, she was stumbling from one side to the other, her body pleading with her to just stop. Please stop.

Each step was becoming more and more painful the further she went. Like she was walking on hot coals, scorching her feet the longer she walked. But she pressed on.

Her shoes were starting to feel… wet. Surely, she was bleeding. That was the only thing that made sense. She’d heard stories of that happening. Stories of people who walked for so long and for so far, that blood began to well up in their shoes, soaking through them and dying them a rusty brown colour. She’d walked so much that her feet were starting to bleed, surely.

Maybe… maybe she should stop. After all, how long before her feet finally gave out on her. They’d been giving her warning after warning, and she’d been ignoring them again and again. It was only a matter of time before they just… stopped, forced her to stop moving. It was only a matter of time before she would be lying in the middle of the path, unable to move, her legs rejecting any input from her brain to get up or even shift to the side. At least if she stopped now, she could choose to sit at the base of a tree. That… that seemed like a much nicer alternative to just collapsing into the dirt.

She could hear her shoes squelching with every step. Each step felt like fire, just burning agony coursing up her legs.

She had to stop.

She needed to stop.

There was just no way she could keep going.

She stumbled off to the side, over to a set of gnarled trees that seemed to have woven together at some point, becoming one great monstrosity. This was just as good a place as any, and she wasn't sure she could stumble on much farther to find a more suitable place.

God, her feet ached. What was she even doing, still walking?

She collapsed at the roots of the trees, barely able to pull herself over to the trunk to lean against it. Now that she was finally off her feet, the pain was starting to subside. There was still an ache, an agonizing ache that seemed to have seeped into her very being, but it was better than when she’d been walking.

She took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before slowly letting it out. Her hands were shaking, setting the lantern down beside her, nestled between the roots. The pain was easing, but she wasn't sure she could even keep going.

Part of her wanted to remove her shoes, to see just how bad the damage was. But a louder part was afraid of what she might find. What if her shoes were the only things keeping her feet together? Maybe that was a possibility. Sure, she’d never heard of such a thing happening, but there was a first time for everything, wasn’t there?

But the blood wasn't going to stay wet forever. She’d peeled bandages off a bleeding wound before, once the blood had time to dry and cake on the skin. The pain from ripping them off, the feeling of the dried blood trying to hold fast to the bandages was not an experience she’d like to repeat.

She took a deep breath, leaning forward with shaky hands to lift one foot onto her leg. She undid the leather laces, shuddering at how slick they felt against her skin. She peeled the shoe away, gagging at the sensation as pulled it off. Even without the dim orange light of her lantern, she could see the bloodied mess that was once a foot. It was covered in the stuff. She could see the blisters that’d formed while she was walking. Some had burst, but others did no such thing, remaining whole.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to pull off the other shoe.

She reached down, undoing the laces and peeling it off her mangled foot, Thick blood was still oozing, from where she couldn’t say. It made her stomach churn just to look at it.

But the wave of relief, now that they were free from those tight leather confines was… intoxicating.

Isra leaned into the roots, allowing them to cradle her body as she laid her feet out before her. It felt like everything had turned to jelly. Her muscles were liquid, protesting any attempt to move or shift. But… she couldn’t really find it in herself to care. Everything just felt so heavy, and her eyes burned with exhaustion like they never had before.

She took a few deep breaths, allowing herself to relax more and more, finding herself unbothered by it all. This was… this was nice. What had she been afraid of? Why did she punish herself for so long?

She closed her eyes as she exhaled, long and slow. She could just take a nap, and continue on when she woke up. It was fine. She’d be fine. Just a little rest, and she could continue on for the end of the forest come morning.

It was fine.

She was fine.

She’d wake up.

Maybe.