Weeping Woods

Gavin Monroe’s hair stood on the back of his neck, he stared face to face with the Weeping Woods. He searches the mark on the pillar just outside the forest tree line, the woods are restricted. The elders say the land is cursed, a work of spirited evil. As stories go, not many who enter make it out.

When his gaze locked onto it, rubbing his together and blew his hot breath into his hands to keep them warm. He took a step forward feeling the magnetic pull towards the cursed area.

They call it ‘weeping’ because of the women who were sacrificed by the Harrit Clan, they all wanted power, youth, and a hidden site for their rituals-The Weeping Woods. Near the border of the forest, you can hear the cries of the innocent women pleading for help.

For the time he has lived in this shitty town, Gavin has not heard of anything excessive happening in the area beside a drunkard getting lost but found sleeping on a bus bench.

Inhaling a deep breath, a small thought wisped through his head, I am going to die here. His hair rose from the alarming, confusing thought, but a small part of him felt he is going to regret this decision. Determined, he pressed his lips together and stormed into the area ignoring the embedded warning on the pillar.

Following the narrow trail, he familiarized himself with on google maps, Gavin took notice of the layer of leaves above him formed over the area like a canopy unable to see the morning sky.

It was gloomy, cold, and smelt like it had just rained. Eerie silent it was, besides the rustling of the leaves, the place gave him chills.

The deeper he walked, head down, he felt eyes on him. He cleared his throat, he will reach the clearing soon, the maps stated the narrow pathway was the quickest route to take to school and avoid a few terrorizers.

An image flashed through his head, the dark confined space they shoved him in. His body squeezed into a small gym locker for a few hours, he lost all feeling in his arms and legs. His asthma suffered the most in the claustrophobic space. Shaking his head, he swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked a few times.

The trail leads to the back of the school building, three doors from his homeroom, the jocks will probably be waiting for him near the bus entrance with the rest of the students. He could make it. And if they get him, Gavin’s stomach clenched, he felt ill with each step leading him to his doom.

“Gavin,” a voice whispered.

He stopped. Goosebumps spread across his body, his head slightly turned towards his left, aware of the whisper, and the dark energy that is suddenly surrounding him.

“Gavin,” It called him.

Feeling spooked, he weighed his options. The school is not too far, maybe if he runs. He patted down his jacket pocket, feeling for the outline of his inhaler. Damn, he forgot it.

Before he could build up the courage to run, the voice spoke, this time he felt the heat of the ghost words at the tip of his ear, he shivered as a cold presence pushed through him. “Take the book.” It said.

Hesitating he took a step forward ignoring the voice. “TAKE THE BOOK!” It rumbled, angered.

His instinct kicked in, without hesitation he darted forward, hoping the other end of the forest will come soon. Backpack bouncing on his shoulders added more weight causing him to run slower, but it was also him aware of the burning sensation beginning to form in his chest.

Slowing to a walk, hand on his hips, he drew in a deep breath. The insane burning in his chest had him reaching for his pocket, his heart was ready to burst from his chest. Patting his pocket, he sighs, remembering it being forgotten.

Glancing behind him, he suddenly felt a bit foolish when he saw nothing chasing him. Leaning on the tree next to him, he felt relieved at the thought of it all in his head, maybe the stories of the elders are getting to him.

Gavin felt chills zap up his spin, he suddenly became aware of the weeping woods. The way the leaves followed the wind, chirping of the birds, and the slight whispers of voices coming from all around him. Even the small rays of the morning sun peeking through the canopy of leaves were not enough to light up the shadows on the ground.

Trying to ignore the paranormal anomaly occurring Gavin continued his mission to school. His idealistic plan of executing a perfect way to sneak into class.

“You must pick up the book.” His breath picked up at the voice, “Gavin.”

He shivered at the dark energy that swept through his body, the same cold chill. He turned to face it, nothing was there but a black book.

“Your life will depend on it!” It warned, chills spread through his body, swallowing the lump in his throat, he paused.

The wind picked up, the leaves rustled, and with a slight nudge forward; he stepped towards the black book.

Cautiously, he picked up the leather bind with its worn-out pages. Alright, he nods, I’m going to regret this. Shaking his head he tightened his hold on the book, proceeding his route to school.

Your life will depend on it, the mere thought of a book having the power to hold his life accountable is an odd thing, but if following orders will get it to stop haunting him, then, jump, Gavin, jump.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea, this place creeps me the hell out.” Gavin stalled in the middle of the trail. The deep voice sounded well, alive, and non-paranormal. Metal clashing echoes around the area.

Gavin fell into a crouch, moving closer to voices. Gavin felt the heat in his gut stir when he saw three familiar faces come into view.

“What are you talking about Boone, this is a great idea, a great place to bury it.” Gavin winced at the impact of the metal shovel hitting the wet, rocky ground. “Most people in this town are too chicken shit to enter, no one will find it but us.” Gavin could hear the excitement in Tristains tone as he digs.

Gavin’s hands became sweaty, his mouth dried, his gaze bouncing from face to face of his bullies. Gavin knew he needed to get the hell out of here before they spot him.

“5,000 for the four of us is a lot of money, man.” One of them spoke. “A Vegas trip would bring it back 20,000 for me.”

Boone chuckles, “Or lose it all.”

They shifted, looking content with their freshly dug hole. Gavin kept his gaze trained on them as he slowly reversed out of their view when he thought it was clear he stood to his full-adorable 5’5” height.

Blowing out a breath, he felt the relief of being unseen. The blood staining Tristan’s hands calls for questioning but it was thrown out the window when a throat cleared behind him.

Gavin stopped breathing, his gut sank as he thought, the only thing that has his location is Google Maps. Entering the woods was a regrettable decision of his.

“Gee, Ging, this is the last place I’d expect you to be.” Damen. Gavin jumped at the hand that landed on his shoulder, “Come on.”

He dug his heels into the ground, waving his hands, “No.” Damen grabbed him by the jacket and lifted him so he was hopping forward on his toes. Freaking embarrassing.

The giant football player dragged him over to the rest of his mates, their voices grew louder as they approached the small clearing. Three of his tormentors stood in a circle, bodies angled toward one another, all looking down at the hole they dug.

“That should do it, the bag should fit,” Triston said, nodding his head. Twigs snapped at their approach. All three pairs of eyes looked up. Tristan’s gaze met Gavin’s, and his eyes narrow.

I’m dead.

“Monroe.” Boone saluted. Then said in an all-serious tone, he looked to John. “I’m not splitting with this guy.”

Tristan gilded towards them, Gavin’s eyes locked onto the metal piece in his hand. He has a gun. Gavin’s breath hitched when he noticed the dried blood. Tristan eyed Damen then asked, “What is Monroe doing here?”

I am so dead, Gavin thought, his hand flexed around the book.

Damen pushed him forward causing him to stumble, “Found him lurking a few feet from the trail.”

“Did you miss us this morning? Came looking?” Gavin’s jaw clenched. Tristan mockingly smiled down at him, he had a playful tone that had all Gavin's reg flags waving. Gavin mirrored his movement and took a step back. “Shame, we thought we’d give you the day off due to. . . business.”

“What are we going to do with him?” Boone asked. Tristan waved the gun to Boone then to the bag of money in it. Boone leaned forward and picked up the bag and tossed it into the hole. The motion was quick but made his stomach weak at the sight of the dried blood soaked into the fabric. “We can’t let him go, he knows us,” He cleared his throat, “he’s going to nark.”

His hand twitched, he felt pins and needles poke at his skin. Gavin scanned their clothes, no blood. Tristin was the only one who had blood on his hands. His head went blank as a wave of nausea hit him, he’s going to throw up. Needing help to stay upright he grabbed the strap of his backpack and leaned on his right foot.

Red-faced Damen turned his back on Gavin facing Tristian, “Hold on a minute, we need to think.”

“We don’t have the time!” John exploded, Gavin narrowed his eyes at him. “We have to deal with him, bury this, and get the hell out of here.”

Damen pointed at him, “I’m not touching him, I'm not a killer.”

Tristan rolled his eyes, “Fine.” He looked around at his other jock buddies, he waved the gun, “Anyone?”

Shaking their heads, Tristan looked back at him and smiled as if he won the lottery. The hair on his body rose, and the same bone-cold chill that swept him earlier flooded him as he raised the gun.

Rising his hands, the sight of a barrel pointed right at him, the fear ringing in his ear overcame the sound of the small thunk hitting the ground. Rooted to the ground, he was face to face with death.

The book fell onto its spine, the sound of the pages flipping drew all of their attention.

It stopped, the page from edge to edge was charcoal black. A lump was caught in his throat as the darkness began to shift, then, smoke began to pour from the page.

“Whoa.” They all stepped back.

Your life will depend on it, he remembered the ghostly warning. Gavin took a step back, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The smoke rose until it was as tall as Tristan, who had his gun aimed at the black smoke.

“What the hell is that?” Boone piped.

In seconds, it attacks, pushing Tristen back, the force of it caused his eyes to widen.

“Run!” Tristan shouts before he fires three shots. It wrapped itself around his ankles and pulled him to the ground. Damen reaches for his hand but instead of taking it Tristan’s hand punches into the ground, eyes wide in terror, mouth open in a horrified silent scream...then, the book takes him.

One by one they were attacked, the book had taken them all.

Falling to his knees, grabbing his chest, he couldn’t breathe.

Gavin could hear it now, the sorrowful cry, their weeping.

The world spun, and then, everything went dark.