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The Forest Was Mute

A short horror story

By Amanda StarksPublished 4 years ago 3 min read
3
Painted by Mintedstar/fur

The forest was mute.

There was no whistling from a breeze dancing through the trees, nor the sound of the soft scuttling of creatures among the foliage.

The birch wood was scarred. Long slashes gouged open many of the trunks, splitting the trees apart in twisted, gruesome shapes. The edges of the wounds were tainted aquamarine. It was as if blessed spring water had forced itself out of the trees; the light trying to escape the darkness within.

She had walked these woods before. She remembered the taste of the stale air and the feel of a thousand eyes glaring into her back and the faint smell of rotting wood.

She knew as empty and quiet as this place was there were things still alive; things left undiscovered simply because others were afraid to know the truth. They were afraid of the things that had clawed these trees open and scared all the animals away.

She laid her left hand on a glowing wound on one of the birch trees, feeling that the substance was incredibly viscous. She pulled her hand away with some difficulty, spreading her fingers apart and watching as the aquamarine material was stretched like webbing between her appendages.

It gave off a luminous light; blinding her to her surroundings that were dark, silent, and hiding the creature who had left this sticky residue behind.

She ventured further, her heart slowly climbing up into her throat where it stayed lodged in tense contentment.

The aquamarine trail only grew more and more numerous as she made her way through the woods, trying to find a familiar landmark or path to lead her home. The gouges in the trees became continuously warped. Some bent the trees horizontally or made them twist downward into the ground where their branches were covered in the goo. Others had completely destroyed the trees, leaving behind a smoking pile of dimming aquamarine light.

Soon she found a hollow with a stream running through it. The stream fed into a large, stagnate pond from a small waterfall. Here the trees cleared away so she could see the tiny stars above her head. When she had entered the woods, it had been day time.

Her whole body shivered from the cold and from the realization that she had been wandering aimlessly in these cursed woods for so long. She decided to hunker down and wait for the sky to lighten up once more. She took shelter underneath the overhang that the waterfall created, gathering leaves together for a makeshift blanket.

A few hours passed, and she had yet to fall asleep.

Sweat poured from her skin, falling into her eyes and causing them to sting. She kept wiping at them, her palms clammy and her fingers trembling.

She had good reason to be so afraid.

She had become surrounded by pairs of glowing aquamarine eyes.

One pair appeared as soon as she had settled into her spot underneath the waterfall. And after every ten minutes or so, another pair had appeared close by.

They were large and filled with flickering fire. They never blinked. They only watched patiently as the weary girl slowly became more and more traumatized as the eyes began to box her into the hollow.

There was no escape.

A few pebbles and leaves fell down in front of her feet from above her head, echoing loudly in the quiet forest.

All of the eyes blinked.

Her breath hitched, and, clenching her teeth to her lips, she looked upwards at the shadow now covering the stars.

Another pair of aquamarine eyes appeared. These much closer than the others surrounding the hollow. A glow began to brighten a little below the eyes; a pair of lips that slowly spread wide in an excited smile. Aquamarine saliva dripped onto her cheek.

Her teeth separated from her lips, and she screamed.

monster
3

About the Creator

Amanda Starks

Lover of the dark, fantastical, and heart-wrenching. Fantasy writer, poet, and hopefully soon-to-be novelist who wants to create safe spaces to talk about mental health. Subscribe to my free newsletter at www.amandastarks.com for updates!

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