Winterwoods jolted awake with her heart pounding in her chest. Sitting up, she trembled in the darkness of her room, unsure of the questionable fear that pricked at every ounce of her body. Something was terribly wrong. It was still very dark out, probably long before dawn. Her room was silent and still and, from what she could tell, everything was as she left it. Her birds in their nearby cage sit with sleepy heads still tucked under their wings.
The familiar smell of beeswax, cinnamon and flowers drifted softly from her day's work downstairs, a muted light still radiated from the hearth below and an occasional crackle of burnt wood would reach her hearing. Everything in her home seemed normal. But the heavy sensation that something was wrong still weighed in her mind. She felt herself drawn towards the door downstairs, to the outside… out to the woods. With a shudder, she pulled off her blankets and slipped from her bed and over to the nearby window.
The need for certainty was the only thing that compelled her to work up the courage to peer through. Her bedroom was on the second floor loft of her cottage, and it gave her a little bit of a vantage point in seeing the details of the small clearing on which her home stood. A stream babbled softly across her lawn, and drifted past her rose bushes and vegetable patch before flowing off into the woods.
And there it was as she feared… It was happening again. Every night for many months now they did this, the woods were fogged over and dense, and a soft light illuminated the gloom of the forest outside just enough to make out the outlines of the nearest trees. It filled her with a deep sense of dread, though she was unable to place why. It wasn’t uncommon for fog to roll through the woods, especially in the autumn.
Conflicted, Winterwoods turned her attention up to the sky. The moon had waned completely, leaving nothing but a few paltry stars which, try as they might, illuminated nothing.. So why were the woods so bright in the fog? Where was the light coming from? Curiosity finally rising over fear, Winterwoods silently made her way down the stairs from the loft and to the front door. Slowly, and with huge trepidation, she cracked open the hatch and peered outside.
Nothing had changed in the distance; the woods were still gloomy and lit softly by the mist. Stepping outside, the crisp autumn air nipped at her ears and nose. The smell of leaves and damp soil met her nostrils, which was usual for this time of year, but something new caught her attention. Something she couldn’t quite place lingered in the air, it was subtle, and sweet like roses, and yet was almost minty. Winterwoods prided herself on knowing well the scents of flowers and many local plants, and this scent was different. This scent felt new to her.
Nose to the air, she glanced fearfully towards the nearby treeline. She stared hesitantly for a few minutes, thinking hard about what she was about to do. Finally, she reached for her shawl and her satchel for gathering plants. She clicked the door shut behind her and with the faintest resolve, set out towards the forest ahead.
She crossed the clearing slowly, unsure of her footing in the darkness. The only thing she had to light her way was the low lit gloom of the forest ahead, and the ever shrinking light from the interior of her home. The forest was alive with the sounds of life and movement. The last of the year’s crickets still chirped softly, and the breeze rustled the trees. Owls hooted in the distance and the stream chortled softly beside her as she followed it up to the trees, all of which was complemented by the soft crunch of dry leaves beneath her hooves.
She paused at the edge of the wood. The fog was even creepier up close, and it felt cold to the touch. The trees overhead wrapped their long branches thickly around one another, blocking out the starry sky. She felt like she were standing at the edge of a toothy mouth, ever agape, waiting to swallow up the unaware that wandered in. The mist swirled in loose ribbons around her hooves, and grew thicker farther into the forest. With a soft whimper, and threatened resolve, Winterwoods took the first steps into the thicket.
She struggled to remind herself that she walked this timberland nearly every morning, and that she wasn’t anywhere that she hadn’t been before. But a fear lingered still in her heart, because the difference between day and night seemed greatly exaggerated there. Winterwoods had never really feared the night or the dark before, but from the day she’d moved in, something about these woods itched at her as unnatural when darkness fell.
As she wandered further in, the sounds of the night faded into silence. It grew deeper and louder until it pulsed with every beat of her heart. She’d never been somewhere where her own footsteps felt muted, where no sounds of nature or any living things reached out to her. Winterwoods stopped on the misty path and stared at the empty path ahead, fear gripping her completely. Something was terribly wrong. Flipping around, she went to turn back and squeaked in shock.
The path that had been behind her previously now ended mere inches away from where she now stood; she was instead met with a wall of trees and a thick fog that swirled menacingly around every trunk and bush. Mouth agape, she attempted to stammer anything to express her shock. She was silenced by a rustling amongst the brush nearby, breaking the silence violently.
Heart racing, Winterwoods shrunk back and dodged hastily into the foliage opposite the sound and peered timidly out, trying to still her shaking and heavy breathing. There was a brief silence before a scrambling of feet as a couple of rabbits bounded by. The source of their alarm made itself known briefly after, and Winterwoods stared in horror as it moved silently through the flora.
It was a tall, dark mass that took the shape of a large pony. It had no particular features, only an equine outline that had a faint blue aura around its black body. Without shifting a single leaf it passed through the trees and brush, clearly unaffected by the solidity of the world around it.
The air grew colder, and Winterwoods began to fear that it may hear her shivering in the nearby brush. The dread of its presence was soon so crushing that she wanted to cover her eyes and scream. Her heart kicked against her chest, and her skin crawled as though maggots nestled in her fur. The thing stopped on its course beside where she lay hidden, and Winterwoods shreiked internally, promising anything to the moon, if it would just go away. After a few lingering seconds, the creature moved onward. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the mist lessened and the sweet flowery scent returned.
Winterwoods let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and dared a glance down the path the thing had taken. The trail was empty. With a small sigh of relief, she shifted slightly in her hiding spot and carefully slid out as to not make any noise. The path she’d walked before was still non-existent amongst the trees; she gulped, knowing that the only way forward was the same path that the monster had taken.
Winterwoods shivered and closed her eyes. She very much regretted coming out to the woods that night. She wished that she’d have just let it go and tried to go back to sleep. With a sigh, she turned herself around and froze… Eyes closed, her hair stood on end and she suddenly knew. The air was still very cold… Trembling, she opened her eyes slowly to the horror of the black mass bearing down upon her.
She tried to scream, but it was lost in what sounded like an ocean of static invading her ears. As the world darkened around her and her senses crumbled, she heard voices bellow above,
“No you will listen to ME for once! I’m not going to let you hold me back any more! I’m better than you will EVER be!” it shrieked. “All of this is your fault this time! You must admit for once that there’s nothing wrong with *ME*!” As these final words faded from audibility, the sweet flowery scent grew strong and then waned with the last of her consciousness.
Winterwoods jolted awake with her heart pounding in her chest. Sitting up, she trembled in the darkness of her room, unsure of the questionable fear that pricked at every ounce of her body. Something was terribly wrong. It was still very dark out; and was long before dawn she guessed. Her room was silent and still. Not even her birds in their nearby cages stirred.
“Wait…” she whimpered. “What just happened?!”
