The Trees Have Eyes

by Tobias Wade

  “Sure, why not?”

  Birds sang and insects chirped. The forest was alive, and as the sun beat down on it, it seemed to breathe. The leaves rustled, and the branches swayed. In and out. In and out. Small creatures scurried underfoot. Birds fluttered in the trees above.

  Chris smiled and led the way, like a child on his first school trip. His lust for life and living each day to the fullest was what attracted me to him in the first place, and five years of marriage hadn’t dampened the spirit that drove him forward. He was difficult to keep up with at times, but that was part of the fun.

  “What are you going to do if we get lost out here?” I asked his sweaty back, pushing through the trees ahead of me. I had no idea where we were going, so I sure hoped he did.

  “Maybe we can become hermits and live off the land!” He turned back and smiled at me. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. It was hard to tell sometimes.

  “You can live off the land, maybe. Me, I need a toilet. A shower. Plumbing. Warm, delicious, processed food. A bed with a blanket I can bury myself in. You can sleep in the dirt with all the animal poop and bugs.”

  “You make it sound so unappealing.”

  The trees swallowed us, leading us further and further in. The sun was high above, but it was becoming more difficult to tell where it was. The trees grew higher and more dense. Every few steps something scurried away in the brush, upset at our intrusion upon its land. The insects got louder, almost deafening. It was easy to see why hikers often lost their way out here.

  “Let’s have a little bet,” Chris called back. “If we get lost, you get to pick where we go for the rest of the year. How about that?”

  I laughed. “If we get lost out here, we’re probably going to stay lost, if you know what I mean, so that’s not gonna matter.”

  Chris raised his eyebrows with a sly smile. “How do you know that wasn’t my intention in the first place?”

  He stopped and put his hands on my waist, pulling me in close. I slapped him across the shoulder and he kissed me on the nose.

  “You never know, if you play your cards right…” he whispered in my ear. I scoffed and pushed him away.

  “Maybe we should get lost so I don’t have to listen to your awful lines for the rest of my life.”

  “Oh you’d still have to listen to them,” he replied. “Just for a shorter time, I’d imagine.”

  “Exactly,” I agreed. He kissed me again and pushed forward. My hands stung from the scratches of hundreds of tiny tree branches. Occasionally one nicked my face and drew blood. I was going to come out looking like I was on the wrong end of a knife fight, if we managed to find our way back at all.

  An hour into our walk off the hiking path the forest suddenly fell silent. Chris noticed it as well; he turned to look back at me, an eyebrow raised.

  “You noticed too, huh?”

  “It’s like everything just up and died at once,” he said. “Weird.”

  The leaves no longer rustled in the trees. The forest floor was silent and unmoving. Not a single bird called out, nor a single insect chirped. The forest was silent. The forest was dead.

  “Do you think we should go back?” I asked. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I didn’t like this at all. It wasn’t right for a forest that, until 10 seconds earlier, had been alive and full of life to suddenly fall so quiet. So still. So empty.

  There was movement up ahead.

  “Hey, did you see that?” Chris took off running, not waiting for my reply.

  “Chris, wait!” I ran after him, trying not to lose him as he zig-zagged through the trees. Branches clawed at my face and snagged my ankles. It took everything I had to keep upright and not lose sight of him.

  “Wait, come back!” Chris screamed.

  “Why are we running?” I was struggling to breathe, and the words came out ragged and hoarse.

  “He was bleeding! The kid was bleeding!”

  “Kid?” There was no way a kid could be all the way out here, certainly not by themselves. Chris ran, never once losing step. I fell farther behind and pain burned throughout my side.

  “Chris?”

  I could no longer see him. Just like that, he was gone.

  “Chris?!”

  Panic set in. Why did I agree to let him drag me out here? I was in the middle of nowhere, off the track that specifically said ‘enter at your own risk,’ my phone had no reception, and I couldn’t even tell which way was back anymore.

  “When I find you I’m going to kick your ass so hard you’ll wish you never came back!” I screamed. “Get back here!”

  The forest was silent. I listened, but not a single thing moved, not even the leaves in the wind. I hugged myself, trying to calm the beating of my heart. Just think it through. Chris went that way—at least I thought he did—so if I went in the same direction I’d come across some sign of him sooner or later. Or I could stand in the same spot all day, slowly going insane. I couldn’t go back without Chris, so it was a no-brainer. I started walking.

  Dry leaves crackled under my feet. They were the only sounds in a forest that five minutes ago was buzzing with life. The temperature dropped as I pressed forward, and the trees above became so thick it was difficult to tell what time of day it was. My watch told me it was still afternoon, but my surroundings suggested otherwise.

  “Chris, where are you?”

  There was no reply. I couldn’t tell how long I’d been walking for. Minutes? Hours? Everything looked the same. But then, as though I’d stepped over an invisible threshold, I heard it. Whispers. Above me, below me, all around me. Something scuttled over my feet and I fell back in horror. I almost forgot what life looked like, so long had passed without sound or sight of it. It was a spider, a rather large one, but it passed on without a fuss.

  A shadow moved through the trees.

  “Hey, wait!”

  I took off after it, leaping over stones and ducking under branches. The noises of the forest got louder. Birds. Insects. Beasts. Whispering. Rustling. Scurrying.

  Laughter.

  I stopped, my hands on my knees as I tried to catch my breath. My skin burned from a thousand scratches as my lungs struggled to keep up. It was too fast. I couldn’t match it, let alone catch up. The laughter intensified, closing in on me.

  “Who are you?! What do you want?!”

  A rotten stench pierced my nostrils, like meat left in the sun too long, or the noxious gas of a dirty swamp. It was hot. Too hot. It was off-putting after the coolness of the trees just prior. Sweat poured off my face and hit the dirt below. I took out my phone, but as I went to press the home button it went flying. A boy, no older than seven or eight-years-old, had snatched it from my hand and fled into the trees. The whispers and laughter intensified.

  I ran after him. He looked back, a smile lighting up his childlike features, and then he was gone. I took off my jacket, the heat becoming unbearable. The stink of the forest invaded my nostrils, and I realized that I was well and truly lost. They lured Chris away from me. Now they were toying with me.

  “Please,” I called out. “I just want to find my husband. I don’t want to disturb-” I tried to gather my thoughts, tried to understand the situation, “—whatever it is you’re doing here. You can keep the phone. Hell, take my bag. Take all of it. It’s yours. Just please. My husband. Chris. Take me to him. Let us go.”

  They had him. I knew it in my heart, I just didn’t know why.

  The forest fell silent. All the things it had been trying to tell me, its warnings, its admonitions, its mirth, its joy, its sadness and its pain, all of it fell silent.

  A boy stepped forth, different to the one who stole my phone. His hair was ragged, his clothes torn and muddy. There was sadness in his eyes, but also something else. Fear?

  “This is no place for adults.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You shouldn’t be here. Go.”

  He was tall and lean, p
erhaps thirteen or fourteen. By the looks of him, he’d never had a proper meal or bath in his life.

  “Go, while you still can.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I was tired and confused. His words weren’t making any sense. He looked me over for a moment, thinking.

  “You should still have some time, ma’am. Leave, before it’s too late.”

  I ran over and grabbed him by the shoulders. He didn’t flinch, didn’t run. Just looked at me with those sad, fearful eyes.

  “Before what’s too late? What’s going on? Where’s Chris?”

  “It’s the forest, ma’am.”

  A shadow ran through the trees to my side.

  “It takes us all, eventually.”

  A shadow ran in the distance, past the boy.

  “Only the children are safe. The forest protects its children.”

  There was a scream in the distance. It was more animal than man.

  “Sounds like it’s too late for him now. You really should go.”

  I ran in the direction of the sound. The boy yelled at my back but his words were drowned out by the growing panic in my head. Fear pushed me forward. Fear that there was some truth to the boy’s words and fear that the knot in my gut wasn’t lying. The scream was Chris, and he was in trouble.

  There was a small clearing ahead.

  “Chris?”

  I stopped, unable to comprehend the sight before me. There was a man, hunched over, tearing into the carcass of a rotting animal. I gagged, the smell so putrid it was difficult to breathe. He looked up at my voice before returning to his meal. I took a tentative step forward.

  “Hey, it’s me. It’s me.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Chris. Sweetie.”

  His clothes were torn and bloodied. There were scratches all over his face and arms, and he was covered in dirt and dried up blood. He tore into the rotten flesh again, and it was all I could do not to throw up. I reached a hand towards his shoulder.

  “Let’s go.”

  He growled and snapped at my hand. I fell over in the mud, landing hard on my tailbone.

  “Ma’am, I told you.”

  I jumped, turning at the boy’s voice behind me.

  “The forest protects its children.”

  Several stepped out of the shadows. One held my phone. Another had his arm in a makeshift sling, stained red with blood. There were boys and girls of all ages, but the one talking to me was the oldest of all.

  “Adults can’t be here. You need to go now while you can. It’s too late for him.”

  I clawed my way to my feet and fell before the boy. There was a roar to my left, and the boy turned to face it. That wasn’t Chris.

  “What’s going on? I don’t understand. What happened to my husband? What’s going on here? Tell me!”

  “I don’t have much longer left myself. My time is coming.”

  He turned from the roar and looked me straight in the eyes.

  “You cannot save him now.”

  He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed.

  “You should have left when I told you to.”

  He squeezed harder. I flinched under his surprising strength as his voice lowered to a growl.

  “It’s coming.”

  The children took a few steps back. They looked up at the boy in awe, with almost reverence in their eyes. A few jumped and clapped.

  “It’s time! It’s time!”

  He grabbed my other shoulder and squeezed so tight I thought my bones might crumble beneath his touch. He leaned forward, his back arching into the air as a groan of pain tore through his throat. The children grew even more excited. The pain in my shoulders, the humidity pushing down through the trees and the putrid smell in the air made me woozy. Chris continued tearing at the animal behind me, oblivious to what was going on.

  The boy raised his head to look at me and I recoiled in horror. His eyes were yellow, almost cat-like, while his teeth pushed out of his gums into long, white fangs.

  “This is what happens,” he spat out. “It takes us boys faster, but make no mistake…” He paused, struggling to breathe. I tried to shake free of his grasp, but he was too strong. “You will be next.”

  I broke free of his grasp and fell backwards into the mud. He was on me in an instant, eying me like prey.

  “Of course, it can’t take you if there’s nothing left to take.”

  He tore into my shoulder, fangs piercing through the flesh and clamping down on bone. I screamed as the children roared with laughter. It was not the first time they’d seen this. One of their own turned into a beast of the forest. A beast that fed on missing hikers. Their turn would come too, one day. When they were no longer children. When the forest was done nurturing them. When they were on the cusp of adulthood. It raised them for that long, and then they became a part of it. One of the beasts that kept the ecosystem running. Kept the forest protected. Allowed it to survive in a time where man’s presence extended everywhere and touched everything.

  But not here.

  I tried to throw the boy off—although he was no longer a boy, apparently—but he was too strong. His fangs tore through my upper arm as his claws pushed me farther into the mud and for a moment, just a moment, I closed my eyes and waited for it to end. I said my goodbyes to Chris, whatever might be left of him, as he chewed on dead animal flesh behind me. I waited for the darkness to claim me. We would just be two more missing hikers. They might mount a search party, but they wouldn’t find anything. They never did. That’s why there were signs. Signs we ignored. We had no-one to blame but ourselves.

  Darkness never came though. There was a roar, and I opened my eyes to see Chris barreling into the boy, sending them both sprawling in the mud. I scrambled to my feet as the children ran off screaming. I picked up my phone, abandoned in the mud, as blood poured down my arm. Chris didn’t look back. He didn’t stop to tell me to run, he didn’t stop to tell me he loved me. He didn’t stop to tell me that I won the bet, that I could choose where we went for the next year. That he was sorry for dragging us out here in the first place. I didn’t know if he even knew I was there. But he ripped into the boy, not yet fully transformed into a beast of the forest, and their screams attracted more of them. The forest sprang to life as they closed in from all corners. I couldn’t be here when they arrived.

  I ran. Tears streaked my mud-stained cheeks and mingled with the blood coating my neck and arm and shoulder. I ran without knowing where I was going, without knowing if I’d even make it. Chris was gone; the forest claimed men faster. I would be next unless I got out.

  I ran for what felt like hours, far longer than it took me to get in. Then, finally, when the forest fell silent around me, I knew I was safe. I was out of the beasts’ territory. They wouldn’t follow me out here.

  I wandered until nightfall when some fellow hikers found me. I was delirious and dehydrated, and raving about monsters, they said. They never found Chris’s body, but I knew the truth. When you hear the forest talking, you should heed its call. I didn’t, and I paid the price for my ignorance. We should have listened to the signs. We should have listened to the forest. I can still hear it at night when I close my eyes and wait for sleep to take me. Calling me back. Inviting me to return to its warm embrace.

  What Lurks in Nightfall Forest

  People like to warn you about the dangers of nature when you go camping, but that’s not what you should be afraid of. Not exactly.

  I went camping with my girlfriend in a place called Nightfall Forest. As you might expect from the name, it was a dark, foreboding place, with areas where the trees grew so thick that very little sunlight got through their overgrown branches. Lacey, my girlfriend and a biologist-in-training, wanted to study the ecosystem of a particular area of the forest known for its unique fungi and bacteria. A break from work sounded great so I agreed to tag along.

  She moved out to set up her instruments as I set up camp not
too far from the river. It was cool, a gentle breeze blowing over the camp as I hammered the last nails into the soil below. I had to admit it was nice. Nobody screaming at me about deadlines, no phones ringing every few minutes to complain about a product I had no part in making, no cars honking at traffic or neighbors yelling loudly over the noise of their TVs. Nothing but the sound of the wind through the trees, the trickle of water over rocks, and a few birds that I couldn’t quite spot in the dense foliage above.

  “What are you smiling at?” Lacey walked over and sat down beside me on a half-rotten log. It creaked under our combined weight.

  “I was smiling?”

  “You were.”

  “Just enjoying the quiet and solitude, I guess.”

  “It really is nice out here, isn’t it?” She grabbed my hand and kissed the knuckles. “Don’t worry, you can get back to your keyboard tapping and smog-infested city in just a few short days.”

  That night we cooked a fish Lacey had caught over the fire she built and it struck me how little I knew of surviving in the wilderness. I was a city boy, born and bred. This was foreign land to me. We made love for the first time under the stars, at least, what little of them shone through the trees above us, and then retired to the tent. I was beat.

  It was around 2 a.m. when a sound outside woke me up. Dry leaves crackled and branches snapped. I looked over and Lacey was gone, and for a brief moment I panicked. Something had taken her. A wild animal had come in and was dragging her away right this very second. A crazy old hermit was living in the woods and he had abducted her as penance for trespassing on his land. Endless scenarios ran through my mind as a shadow appeared at the front of the tent.

  ‘This is it,’ I thought. ‘This is where the crazy old hermit comes to murder me and rip out my liver for tomorrow’s breakfast.’

  The zipper began to rise, slowly. Each metal tooth it ran over reverberated through the tent, throughout my soul. Inch by inch it rose, getting stuck on something halfway. It was too dark to see. I fumbled around for something, anything I could use to defend myself. All I could find was my pillow. All the tools were outside. God, what an idiot I was. The zipper broke free of its snag and rose again, edging closer and closer to my impending doom.