The prompt was simply this: deep-rooted.
And this is what I wrote!
Deep-Rooted
A Tale by Marc Eshleman
The moon shone as a pearl in the black, silken sky, clouds drifting lazily through its inky blackness. The forest lay, sunken into the valley as if pressured by the star speckled sky above. Its branches extended in all directions, tree's touching trees, roots entangled and knotted together. If one didn't know better, you might think that it was all one organism, stretched across the rolling mountains of the Pennsylvanian landscape.
The dirt road that ran through the forest was nearly overgrown, yet the blue truck's suspension seemed to be able to handle it. Thomas pressed on the accelerator as the truck bounded over the root infested road bed. As he drove, his mind wandered to his many childhood memories spent in this place. He had grown up in the town just a few miles down the road. It was a small, closely knit community with only a handful of children. Everyone had known each other, and kids, Jerry, Susie, David, Gretchen, Laura and himself, had all been friends. You couldn't afford to have enemies in that town. As children they played after school, exploring the surrounding woods and mountains. The only rule that held back their explorations had been one that all of their parents gave.
"Don't go into eastern valley."
It was a simple rule, one easily followed. Back in those days there were many places to explore, and the eastern valley couldn't be any more or less interesting then everywhere else. Besides, the punishments involved were fierce. David had once tried to go, but had gotten caught. His father beat him something terrible and David wasn't back in school for weeks. So their youthful explorations were curbed, and they stayed away. Like most things, however, it could not last.
They group grew up and became rebellious teens as children with strict parents are wont to do. They become bored with their drinking hollows in the other bits of the forest, so one evening they decided that the best place to drink on a Friday night was the eastern valley.
Thomas' attention was snapped back to his driving when his truck bounced a bit too far, and he banged his head on the roof of his car. He slammed on the break and paused to nurse the new bruise on his forehead. Thomas looked around and realized that he was precisely where he needed to be. Stepping out of his car, he reached into the truck bed and grabbed his tools. He began to walk amongst those twisted and knurled trees, stepping over the roots that almost seemed to be reaching out for his feet.
As he wandered, memories of that night started to come back to him. The laughter around the campfire, the warm feel of the beer in his stomach. They began to pair off then, after the campfire died down, each one trying to find their own private corners of the forest without straying too far from the campfire. It was the start to a good evening.
Then the memories started to come in flashes. Susie screaming. David struggling over a nearby trunk with his forearm cut off at the elbow. Gretchen, half naked, tripping over an extended root. Jerry, almost unrecognizable with the right side of his face crushed in and his brains spread out on the ground below. Laura struggling to run with a shattered knee, falling and impaling herself on a dead branch through her middle. Blood. God, so much blood. Absent mindedly Thomas reached and rubbed the knuckles on his right hand, which was missing most of its fingers.
Thomas looked up into the branches as he walked onward. He began to see bones strewn among them, and more on the forest floor. Some were bleached white with age, while others looked as if they still had marrow in them.
"I'm getting closer."
As Thomas walked on, the trees began to creak and branches shifted as if in a breeze. The air turned warmer and felt a bit more moist. Strange noises began to echo through the valley around him. Screams and unearthly growls were carried around on a breeze that wasn't there. Turning another corner, the branches above him closed in and blotted out the sky. Thomas flicked on his flashlight and kept walking.
Suddenly, everything was silent. The tree's no longer creaked and the odd sounds no longer echoed. Thomas stopped. He turned up his flashlight and revealed a massive oak tree. Its branches were bare and gnarled, twisting like a maze and interlocking with branches of the nearby trees. Thomas stepped forward and set down the gasoline tank with a slosh. The only sound that now rose to Thomas' ears was a deep, thumping noise. A noise which echoed the sound within his own chest.
"You've lived here for a long time haven't you? You settled in and stretch your roots deep. I wonder just how many thousands of years you've seen, how many you've taken. The police didn't believe my story. In fact the only ones who did were the townsfolk, but they wouldn't say anything. They couldn't say anything. The doctors that they sent me to always tried to convince me that I had killed them. I remembered what they wanted me to forget. So I'm here, to finish things once and for all."
Reaching for the gas tank, Thomas unscrewed it and doused the tree before him. Spinning around, he emptied the gas tank as quickly as he could on the other trees around him. He dropped the gas tank and then reached into his pocket, grabbing the box of matches that he had brought. Thomas paused for a second, looked around, and then struck the match.
An unearthly howl exploded from the eastern valley and filled the night sky. The sound was so loud that it brought Thomas to his knees. Covering his ears, he stood up, only to feel a root tear itself up from the ground and wrap around his ankle. It pulled him over and dragged him across the burning forest floor. Grabbing the axe he kept on his belt, he swung and chopped the root on his ankle clean through.
Thomas stood and tried to make a run for his car, but suddenly a branch came down and wrapped around his waist. Hoisting him up and closer to itself, he saw that the forest was not still any more. Every tree branch writhed in the air and the roots moved so violently that the ground was totally impassable. The bark split of the old oak split and revealed the creature's maw. Filled with hundreds of wooden spikes and dripping with sap, the mouth stretched wide, ready. As he stared, Thomas saw a dark red shape beat feverishly beyond the teeth. He gripped his axe.
Swinging him forward, the branch let go, tossing Thomas into the creatures gaping mouth. As soon as he could, he gripped some of the spikes around the side and pushed himself deeper within the creature. He felt the mouth close around his legs, piercing them thousands of times and crushing his bones. Thomas screamed, and with his final breath, grimaced and heaved his axe deep within the creature’s heart.
----
The Pennsylvania Post
Late last night a fire broke out a few miles north of Forest Hill. Witness reports say that they saw a blue truck drive over there about 45 minutes before the fire was noticed by officials. Firefighters could not quell the fire before it consumed a valley's worth of trees. The chief firefighter had this to say:
"This is certainly a sad day for those who love the forests of our great state. The fire seems to have burned down some of the oldest trees on record, including an oak tree which had been estimated to be 1500 years old."
No official word yet on who may have started the fire and if they've been caught, but considering that a blue truck has been recovered in part of the burnt forest, it seems unlikely that the perpetrator will ever be caught alive.
So what did you guys think? Was it pretty good?
Happy Saturday everyone! :)
Happy Saturday everyone! :)
Writing for Fun,
Marc Eshleman
That's pretty awesome marc! You can describe things so well. I hope more people encourage you to continue to write neat stories like this!!!
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