Why I left the Woods

Scratch

"Yeah, it's just me here tonight," I say as I washed the few dishes that remained in the sink. The darkness outside seems held at bay by the big floodlight on the pole outside. The forest surrounding our little cabin looked like a green wave that's preparing to swallow our circle of humanity up forever if it wasn't for that 120-watt bulb. I had the phone pressed against my ear with my shoulder, and I laughed as my boyfriend said something funny. The phone slipped towards the soapy water, and I caught it just in time as something scratched at the door again.

Scratch Scratch

"What?" I asked as I walked over to the back door, "No, they haven't come home yet. Uncle Rick doesn't usually like to be in the woods after dark, but Dad and Brad probably talked him into it."

I opened the back door as another loud scratch came from it, and Benji walked in. For years, the mutt has been in our family, and as he lumbers in, he wagged his tail and gave me a doggy grin. I wrinkled my nose with disgust when I noticed that he'd been rolling in something. There was a red-brown crust all over his right side, and at first, I mistook it for blood. When I saw he wasn't limping, I figured it was mud or, worse yet, blood off some carcass he'd rolled around in out in the woods. I stared after him as he made his way towards the laundry room where his food bowls were, my boyfriend prattling away in my ear.

"Rick, I'm gonna have to call you back," I said, making my way towards the laundry room before Benji can roll in the clean laundry.

"Everything okay, babe?" he asked, a little concerned.

"Yeah, but Benj rolled in something, and I don't want him to get it all over the house."

"Okay, well, stay safe. I love you, babe."

"Love you too, Rick. See you tomorrow."

I hung up the phone and took a step towards the laundry room. I had just reached for the bristle brush by the sink when my phone blared from the countertop. I turned away from Benji and walked towards the phone, checking the caller ID to see who it is. Brads smiling face was plastered across the screen, and I picked it up on the third ring. I figured it would be them telling me why they were so late.

I didn't get three words out before I was immediately buffeted by a wall of static and Brad's frantic voice yelling as he cuts in and out.

I held the phone a little away from my ear like it might explode and yelled, "Hello!" back at him until he heard me.

"Oh, thank God. Rache, we need you to call the Sheriff!"

His tone was equal parts terror and fury, and I was immediately worried.

"What happened? Is everyone okay?"

"Uncle Rick is hurt pretty bad, and Dad's not in great shape either. Dad says to call the Sheriff and an ambulance and lock the doors until we get there."

"Brad, what happened? Whats…"

"Do it, Rachelle! We'll be there in five minutes. Don't open the door until we get there!" then he hung up on me, and I was left looking at a silent brick.

I tried the Sheriff's office, but the phone just rang and rang before connecting me with static. The phone number for the ambulance did the same, and by this point, I'm terrified. Was there a problem with the phones in town? Has some disaster happened out in the woods that's spilled over into town? As I went to lock the door, I saw the familiar headlights of Dad's old pickup coming up the driveway. I flung it open instead to help them.

Dad came out of the back, hoisting Uncle Rick under the arm, and Brad hopped out of the driver's seat and ran over to help him. Uncle Rick hung limply between them, and I could see at a glance that he is not in good shape. His flannel shirt and jeans were covered in blood, and though it was hard to tell, I thought his left arm might have been gone. Dad was covered in blood too, but it looks like some of it might be Uncle Ricks. He had four long claw marks running through his left eye, and it was swelling too badly for me to tell if the eye still works. Brad shouted at me to get the door, and I complied as all three of them came running into the living room.

In the light, it's easy to tell how bad Uncle Rick is. His arm is gone. The sleeve had been used to make a tourniquet around the stump, and his breathing was very shallow as he lays on the couch in a state of unconsciousness. Brad said something about going back for the guns, but Dad shut him down and sent both of us to lock the doors. After the house was secure, Dad asked me if I'd called the Sheriff or the Ambulance. I told him about the strange static, and he swore loudly as he took his own cell out of his pocket. He dialed a number, and I could tell by his face that he's getting the same results. Finally, he swore again and threw the phone against the wall.

"I guess we're on our own then," he said, and it was the most hopeless I'd ever seen my daddy.

Even when momma died, he'd still kept a strong face for us.

"What is going on?" I asked, "What happened to Uncle Ricky?"

Dad looked over at Brad, and after a silent conference, Dad started to tell it.

"We'd been hunting most of the day, and we hadn't caught a damn thing. Something was scaring the game off; we heard it walking around a few times and thought it was a bear. Your Uncle Rick said it sure smelled like a bear, so when the sun started setting, we decided it was time to pack it in. We started getting everything together when, right out of the blue, a doe steps out into the meadow we'd been staking. She looks around, real skittish like, and starts cropping grass quickly. She clearly smells whatever is making all the noise, but a deer has to eat, and she starts filling her belly as quickly as she can. Your Uncle sights her up and drops her real easy, and we figured at least we'll have one thing to show for the trip at least.

No sooner do we get to the edge of the meadow when a big ole something comes crashing out. It grabs our deer and bolts back into the woods like a bat out of hell. It kind of looked like a bear, I guess. The sun was setting, and it was hard to tell, but it moved quicker than any bear I've ever seen. Brad and I were just gonna let it go, but Rick was mad as I've ever seen him. He tears off after it saying how he's gonna take that thing home instead.

So we follow him, not wanting to leave him in the woods alone after dark, and we chase this thing to its cave. At that point, I was sure it was a bear, so we go creepin in tryin to surprise it. As the sun sets behind us, we see this thing hunkered over the deer, and it weren't no bear. It's wolfing at the deer, just slurping down big mouthfuls, and Rick gets real pale and starts gibbering about how its the thing we saw when we were kids."

"Wait," I interrupted, "you've seen this thing before?"

Dad looked perturbed but noded, "Yeah, that's why Rick hated to go in the woods after dark. When we were teenagers, we were up in a stand hunting deer when Rick sights one right before sunset. He drops it, and we're about to get it when this big thing comes up out of the woods and starts wolfing it down right there. Well, Ricks always had a temper, so he pops a shot at it. It pisses this thing off royally. It comes up to the bottom of our tree and starts clawing and pushing at it until it topples a good healthy tree, and we jump out just as it slams to the ground."

"And it was this thing that you saw today?"

"Well," Dad hedged, "it was almost dark when we shot the deer, and we never got too good a look at it. All I know is that it chased us out of the woods, and Rick wouldn't go hunting with me for three years after that."

He paused for a minute to make sure I was out of questions before continuing his story.

"So with Rick gibbering, this thing looks up and sees us. I swear to you that it came up on its hind legs and walked like a man as it ran at us. Rick popped a shot off, probably just panic fire, but it just shrugged it off and landed on him. I saw his arm, rifle and all, go into its mouth, and I heard it crunch as it bit it clean off. Rick started screaming, and we all started yelling. Before it can finish him off, though, Brad and I peppered him four or five times with buckshot. It must have dazed it because rolled off Rick with a loud shriek and stumbled back towards the cave."

"It sounded like a man screaming," Brad said, and Dad nodded before going on.

"It starts flailing around in pain, and we grabbed Rick and started dragging him back towards the truck. This thing came after us, and it sounded like it was crashing through trees the whole way. We couldn't move very fast, each of us had an arm under Rick as we drug him along, and I swear it would have had us if it hadn't been for ole Benji."

My blood suddenly went cold, "Benji?"

"Yeah," Dad said, his voice dipping a little, "poor ole guy. He'd been with us the whole time. He didn't seem to want anything to do with this thing, but when it jumped on us again and raked my face, he starts growling and lunges right at it. I hear them tearing and snarling at each other, and we just high tailed it back to the truck. It's a wonder we ever found it in the dark. Poor ole Benji, he sacrificed himself so we could getaway."

Both Brad and my dad looked forlorn, but I just shook my head.

"No, he didn't," I said with a little scoff, "he's right here."

Brad gave me a funny look, "What are you talking about?"

"He came wandering in not long before you guys did…" that's when I remembered the blood on his fur. There was no way he could have outrun a truck. Hell, the only reason I hadn't questioned him being here is that I had forgotten that he'd gone with them. I looked back towards the kitchen door, and it creaked open as Benji's friendly grin poked through the gap. He strolled into the living room, his fur still a mess of blood and mud, and glanced around the room as his tail wagged and his big ole doggy smile stretched across his face.

When he stood up on his hind legs, I thought for sure I was dreaming.

Benji lept across the living room, and when he hit the couch, he was no longer the cuddly mutt we'd all come to love. He was two hundred pounds of sleek black fur and raking claws that reduced my family to sprays of blood and screams of mercy. I fell back from the scene, covering my eyes with my hands to block it all out. I could still hear every bone wrenching yank, every blood splattering swipe, and the watery gurgles of my family having their throats torn out.

I was numb. My mind shrank away from the scene before me as I back peddled until my back hit the wall of the cabin. I curled my knees up to my chest and put my head against my knees as I sank to the floor and waited for it to be over. I didn't care at that moment whether I lived or died. I only wanted it to end. I could feel myself crying as the living room became a killing field, and as it finally ended, I could hear the overpowering bray of my explosive sobs.

My sobs stopped when I heard heavy footsteps walking toward me.

I didn't look up, didn't want to look up, but when the creature's hot breath puffed against the top of my hair, I pulled my face away from my knees despite myself.

His blood-smeared face was inches from mine, and I quickly buried my face back against my knees again. It was leaning over me, my family's blood pattering onto my skin, and it was all I could do not to pass out from terror. We stayed like that for several minutes until I couldn't take it anymore. I lifted my head and looked up into his semi feline face and asked the question.

"Why haven't you killed me?"

His voice was high, like a bee that's been caught in a jar, and it hurt my ears to listen to him.

"Because you let me in. For that favor, I will give you a favor in return. Leave my woods before sunset tomorrow, and I will allow you to continue to exist. Stay, and you will share the fate of your kin."

Then he turned and walked out of the house on two legs.

I was gone before the sun came up.

I threw my clothes in a bag, took the pickup my brother had been careless enough to leave the keys in, and drove. My phone rang a few times, and I ignored it. The hardest was when Aunt Clara called, but after three days, even she stopped calling. They likely assumed that I was dead too. I sold the truck before I left the state and haven't looked back. I drove until I couldn't see the forest anymore, drove until I couldn't see three trees grouped close enough to obscure anything, and when the desert stretched before me, I finally stopped.

I'll make my life here now.

I have no intention of ever leaving the desert again.

I don't know what forest this creature calls it's own, and I never want to find out.