The Tree Of Strange Fruits

The creature made a bizarre sight, as it danced gleefully around the trunk of the large pear tree. Skinny as a rake and dressed only in a grubby loin cloth, it skipped and hopped on hooved feet, first one way and then the other, chortling and singing as it went. A small entourage of insects floated lazily along with him, attracted by his pungent odour. As he pranced to a fro, his long, greasy, grey hair, platted into a tail, bounced between a pair of scrawny, leathery wings. Through the thin layer of hair on its head, a pair of black, curved horns protruded ten centimetres into the air. Its goat like face was complete with a triangular goatee beard and angular yellow eyes. As he sung his song, a forked tongue flickered in and out between blackened lips, tasting the air like a snake.

“First to the left, then to the right, this old Faun could dance all night!

Around the tree that holds the pear, what other fruits are hanging there!?

The strangest fruit you e’er will see and will not find on other trees.

Twas not an apple picked by Eve, but a pear, would you believe?

He will come to feed from both, I command, this is my oath!”

The strange humanoid continued this litany, interspersed with maniacal chuckles and little shrieks of joy as he went. From the tracks in the wet ground under his cloven feet, it was clear he had been there for some time. From above, a continuous slow dripping rained down on him and the ground directly beneath the tree, turning it to mud. The liquid ran down the creature’s face and matted his hair. Occasionally his forked tongue would dart out and scape across his greying skin to gather in some of the crimson liquid, visibly savouring the taste. Above it, the source of the scarlet shower made a gruesome sight. Strewn through out the branches of the pear tree, intertwined with its native fruit, hung some grisly additions.

Like a Christmas Tree decorated from some unholy nightmare, severed body parts dangled from branches. Arms, legs, genitalia were included in the array of macabre baubles. Internal organs were skewered on the ends of branches, reminiscent of cocktail cherries. Between the branches, lengths of intestines were draped in a sickening parody of tinsel. Topping the tree, a woman’s head was spiked, its long black hair flowing down over the branches below. The collected fluids from these viscera ran down the trunk and branches, painting them red. The rest rained down on the ground and the creature below. There appeared to be far more liquid than could be accounted for by the half a dozen dismembered bodies it came from. But still, blood bubbled from the ends of torn flesh and organs, adding to the flow.

“Come my master come!” The creature bellowed; its voice now deeper, gruffer than it had sounded previously. “What dreams might come; what joyful nightmares await us?” He turned his head to the skies, as if searching, waiting, for something to appear there. A low pitch rumble began to vibrate the air, seemingly coming from every direction at once. The tree began to shake in response, some of its fruit, both natural and otherwise, dropped to the earth. As the sound intensified, the satyr stopped in its muddied track, its head twisting from side to side, still searching. Now sounding like nothing heard on earth before, the noise filled the air, a complex symphony of different frequencies and volumes twisted around one another. Underfoot, summoned pied piper like from the soil, earthworms began to burrow their way out of the ground. Before long they formed a continuously shifting carpet with their writhing bodies. While the worms crawled and slid across the satyr’s cloven feet unnoticed, it still searched the horizon, knowing that soon, He would arrive.

Suddenly the cacophony ceased, and an uncanny stillness descended. The slightest of smiles twitched at the edge of the creatures blackened lips. It was time. Just as suddenly as the roaring sound had stopped, a thunderous crack split the air. A few hundred yards beyond the pear tree, the ground erupted in a shower of dirt and rubble. Debris showered down in all directions, smashing through branches of the surrounding trees. Some pelted the satyr, cutting through his grey skin and releasing the green ichor beneath. Through all this he remained unflinching, staring at the events unfolding before him. Heat haze flickered above the crater which had formed, some lava slowly trickled over the edge and rolled down towards the surrounding dirt.

The ground began to tremble underfoot again, as something dark and monstrous began to rise from the newly born volcano. Once the things arms were free, it began to lever itself from the cauldron, breaking the crater around it, causing more molten rock to flow outward from the hole, forming a large circle. Finally, it broke free, raising one mighty leg, then the other onto the ground. Once erect it stood almost eighteen feet tall, with broad, muscular shoulders. The body was manlike in general shape, but it was far from human. The surface of its skin was mostly black but riddled with cracks of orange/red which seemed to pulse and flow like the lava beneath it. Indeed, it had the overall appearance of a molten lava flow that had begun to cool on the surface. The eyes were a fierce red, glowing like hot coals, emitting light into the darkness. From a jagged rocky fissure beneath the eyes, a booming, gravelly voice came, an angry, fearsome voice.

“Who has dared to disturb the slumber of Moloch? What insignificant speck of excrement has the impudence to summon the mightiest of all Demons!?”

His gaze turned towards the now statuesque figure of the petrified Faun beneath the tree of offerings. The demon raised one mighty arm at the creature, extending one finger, which was topped with a razor-sharp talon.

“YOU!” the voice boomed, and as it spoke the colossus turned and began to walk with thunderous strides towards the tree, taking only three steps to reach it.

Moloch bent his knees and lowered himself to examine the contents of the tree. Then his gaze fell on the cause of his summoning below.

“So, satyr, child of Pan, such a lowly faun has the audacity to summon Moloch.”

“I did oh venerated one, in payment I have prepared this offering for you.” The faun responded, and finally regaining his mobility again, raised an arm to indicate the smorgasbord of horror above him.

The demon appeared taken aback by fauns reply, obviously he had been expecting the creature to bow and snivel at his feet, rather than boldly admit his guilt. He remained silent for a while, then raised his eyes, passing a cursory glance over the contents of the tree again. He reached out a clawed, black hand and plucked something from the upper branches, then deftly flicked it into his gaping maw, as a human might eat a peanut. He became thoughtful for a while, as thoughtful as any thing could look with so few discernible features. Then he spoke.

“Amuse me insect. What possible reason could you have for raising one such as I from the fiery depths?”

Taking a visible, deep breath, the now cowering satyr replied.

“Oh, mighty Moloch, lord of the darkest realms, feared by all, hear my plea. I’m trapped by a cruel and heartless master of the minor domains. One who is many leagues below yourself in every way. I am seeking to come into your service, I am willing to take on any task you may set, nothing will be below or beyond me. I am worthy of more than he currently offers”

Moloch the demon laughed. A surprisingly deep humorous sound. “What possible use could I have for such as specimen as yourself?’ Then, in almost mocking tones, he continued, “No, wait, I may have a use for a creature as spindly and scrawny as you!” Saying this, he reached out and grabbed the faun with unexpected speed, and stood, holding the terrified satyr in front of his face.

“Once I have finished this admirable feast you prepared, I may be in need of a toothpick!” Laughing heartily once more, the mighty Moloch, lord of the darkest realms, feared by all, turned, and began to feed from the tree of strange fruits.