Darkly Wood II

by Power, Max

  Woody on the other hand did not need inspiration. He had something else directing him. At first, his intention was clear. Holly was to be his. But then he sensed it, he felt it and he sniffed the air to catch that scent again. It was so familiar he knew it. He withdrew his hand and pointed at his chest. He said something, a word, a name that he had not spoken in a very long time.

  “Benshamen… Benssshamen…”

  Holly saw it immediately. He was telling her his name.

  “Benjamen?” Her voice was calm but inside she was terrified.

  “Bensshamen…Yesssss!”

  He hissed each word and she thought she could see a smile cross his horrid face. It was such a long time since words has slipped from his lips. It felt good.

  “Holly.” She pointed at her own chest, indicating in the same fashion what she was called but the reaction wasn’t the one she expected.

  Benjamin stopped smiling. He began bouncing slightly like his legs were springs rooted in the ground but he seemed a little frustrated, angry even. Holly didn’t understand it. Woody didn’t understand it. He knew this girl, he was sure of that but she wasn’t Holly. She couldn’t be Holly. He pointed and lowered his head, rubbing his other hand through his hair in a stressed out fashion.

  “Noo…Noo... Noo... No Holly…No Holly.”

  “Yes, I am Holly. That’s my name. Holly.”

  Again she poked herself in the torso, demonstrating that she was indeed Holly. Woody or Benjamin as he introduced himself calmed a little. He took another couple of paces towards her until he was within touching distance and he closed his eyes and sniffed deeply again. He finished off with a satisfied,

  “Aaaaaah…”

  When he opened his eyes, Holly was shocked. They were in complete contrast to everything else about him. He had the most beautiful eyes up close. They were warm and beautiful and they smiled as his lips curled at the edges. He reached out ever so slowly and touched Holly’s hair which he drew towards his face. Holly felt her legs go weak. He was so close now she could smell him and the odour was vile. Woody sniffed her hair and rubbed it against his cheek, momentarily closing his eyes.

  “Holleeee…”

  He spoke her name very softly and she replied.

  “Yes, Holly. I am Holly.”

  “No Holleee, No Holleee.”

  She didn’t understand what he was saying and was about to correct him, when Woody said something else. He spoke softly still and he consumed her with his big wonderful eyes and what he said, changed everything.

  “No Holleee…Holeee-Mayheeee…”

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE – THE CURE

  When Doctor Healy returned to Cathecus, he brought his surgical knives as instructed by Wormhold and he made sure to be there earlier than noon for he needed to speak with Cathecus before the stranger appeared. Surprisingly Cathecus seemed unsurprised when he heard of Wormhold’s visit and instead of asking lots of expected questions, he merely rubbed his chin and looked out of the window at the blue sky.

  “Why are you not surprised?”

  The doctor knew there was more to the lack of reaction from Cathecus. There was no need for him to turn around, no desire to react, not an inkling or otherwise, for Cathecus felt defeated. This Wormhold was taking everything from him and he was helpless.

  “He want’s something from me.”

  It was simple and short. Henry knew he referred to Wormhold.

  “What does he want Cathecus?”

  After a few moments of silence, Cathecus slowly turned and answered with a sigh.

  “It feels like my soul.”

  There was no time to elaborate. He was about to explain the request for gravestones, something Cathecus simply couldn’t bring himself to do, when Wormhold appeared silent and still in the doorway.

  “Come now Mr. Flincher, your soul? A little melodramatic I think.”

  Henry Healy spun around to be confronted by Wormhold this time in the full light of day. He was a most peculiar sight. Wormhold raised his cane until it pointed directly at the doctor’s chest and asked,

  “Did you bring the items I requested?”

  Like a nervous child, Henry immediately held his bag aloft and answered with a stuttering meekness.

  “Yes…yes… I…I ... they are here.”

  Wormhold turned and walked out through the door and headed directly to the bedroom where Cathecus had laid his wife and children together. They made for a most peculiar sight; all still and quiet, like corpses. He walked around the bed until he stood with his back to the window, stooping slightly where the roof was low. Cathecus and Henry followed and stood across from him on the opposite side of the bed, waiting to see what would happen next.

  Cathecus was filled with a desire to strike this man down, but he knew that he was his family’s only hope so he had to keep his emotions under control. It was not easy.

  “Why have you not completed the task I set for you Mr. Flincher?”

  Henry looked at his friend, not aware of the deal that had been made. He was puzzled.

  “I cannot…”

  “You cannot?” Wormhold cut him off in a somewhat angry voice. “It was not a suggestion Mr. Flincher, not a request, a desire, a hope an…inclination of mine! You know what I require and you see what has to be done and yet you deny me?”

  “I do not deny you.” It was Cathecus now that raised his voice in anger. “How dare you, how very dare you come to my home and take my family away from me. What right do you have to make such an ungodly request? I cannot complete your…task.”

  He spat the final word, his knuckles pressing on the edge of the bed as he leaned forward, all fire and menace, a desire to leap across and cast Wormhold through the window behind him. For a moment Wormhold was silent. He waited. Cathecus calmed a little and Wormhold watched the softening of his posture as his shoulders dropped a little, then he raised his cane again.

  Very slowly, he pointed the cane and stretched out his arm until the tip of it touched Cathecus on the shoulder. He pressed ever so slightly, a poke of sorts as he raised his other hand to adjust the scarf about his face. It seemed as though he was in fear of catching some disease from Cathecus the way he covered his mouth and nose and prodded him away.

  Angry though he was, Cathecus looked at his wife as she lay still and beautiful beside him, and knew he could not afford to anger this man, so he leaned back again and stood straight.

  “I am a simple man Mr. Flincher. You take me for more and there is no need. Complete your task, the one thing I need and you shall have what you need, your family returned whole to you once more. It really is that simple.

  “But what about me?”

  Both men looked at the forgotten doctor and he raised his bag as though he has a role to play, after all had Wormhold not specifically requested his presence.

  “Ah yes the good doctor.” Wormhold walked around the bed waving Cathecus out of his path and they literally exchanged places in the small bedroom.

  “Come now, doctor, you have brought the items I requested, let them be out.”

  Henry placed his medical bag on the edge of the bed and opened it hurriedly. He took out a set of small surgical knives and laid them side on the bed. Wormhold examined them carefully and picked up one which appeared to suit his purpose.

  “You may put the rest away and then stand aside so I might examine your patients.”

  Henry did as he was told. He closed his bag and switched places with Wormhold so that Wormhold stood at the head of the bed. He picked up a folded sheet from the table beside the bed and shook it out before tying the corners around his neck. It looked like a giant napkin and both Cathecus and henry were confused.

  “Mr. Flincher, you have made a commitment to me, have you not?”

  Cathecus nodded, fearful of where this was going.

  “Indeed.” Wormhold spoke softly now and lowered his head for a moment.

  Henry Healy did not know what hit him. It very much seemed as though he had been p
unched in the back. He wasn’t far wrong. The whistling sound that accompanied the pain following the blow came from his right lung, where air was escaping. It was quickly swallowed up by a quiet gurgling as blood filled the wound where Wormhold had driven the knife in and swiftly drew it back out again.

  He felt another punch then another and another and Wormhold had his arm wrapped tightly around his throat from behind. He didn’t quite know what was going on. He wasn’t the only one but unlike Henry, Cathecus could see the look in Wormhold’s eyes and he could hear what he was saying.

  “Stay there, Mr. Flincher. Stay right where you are if you wish your wife and children to ever open their eyes again.”

  Cathecus watched the life fade from Henry as surely as the light fades from the sky when the sun sets. He tried to struggle, but Wormhold was a big man, a strong man and he held Henry now as he struggled against the fading of his light. There was no point. For Cathecus, the sense of helplessness and powerlessness was overwhelming. That he could stand by and watch his friend die like this seemed unthinkable, but he had no choice. When Henry struggled no more, Wormhold released his grip on the doctor and his lifeless body slumped to the floor.

  Blood dripped from Wormhold’s hand and from the blade that he still gripped tightly. There was a lot of blood, mostly on Wormhold’s sheet-bib and on the floor. He just stood there and Cathecus saw the smile in his eyes. Wormhold untied the sheet and threw it on top of Henry.

  “There are to be no more chances Mr. Flincher, do you understand? Now you have an extra headstone to make, one you are responsible for directly. Do as I ask and I shall return but one more time to collect what I have requested from you.”

  Cathecus was stunned by what he had just witnessed. There was no doubting now of the ruthlessness that lurked within the man who haunted his life.

  Wormhold stepped over Henry and dropped the knife on the floor, pausing momentarily before he walked out through the door.

  “Don’t let me down Cathecus. You have two more days.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY – TWINS

  Lying on the forest floor in a heap, Woody didn’t know which way was up for a moment. Pain was real for the boy-beast but different to what most people feel. It was less important. He had always felt pain it seemed and if he could remember, he surely would have been traumatised by all of those occasions in his past where he had suffered at the hands of far crueller creatures than even he was. But in that particular moment the pain felt different. He leapt to his feet and spun around.

  Facing him stood Daisy May and Rose and they hadn’t run. Both were frightened, but Daisy May stood out proud to the front like a warrior. She had faced this creature before but more importantly, Woody was more than a beast to her.

  “Washeeeeeshhh…” He softly hissed and began a crouched stalking manoeuvre to their left.

  “What…what is it?” Rose had never seen anything like this creature. He was strangely childlike but all teeth and sinewy muscle, somehow old and young at the same time, somehow boy and beast. Daisy May didn’t answer. She kept her focus where it needed to be.

  “Benjamin?”

  Her words were softly spoken and she straightened, slowly lowering the makeshift club she held in her hand. Hearing the name, Woody froze. He tilted his head like a curious puppy. Daisy May hoped it registered. She offered it again, this time with a lump gathering in her throat, a knot in her stomach and the hair on the back of her neck standing as a chill came over her.

  “Benjamin?”

  Woody twisted his head in the opposite direction seemingly confused and he craned his neck to sniff the air. It couldn’t be? The last time Daisy May Coppertop had seen the boy she had fallen in love with all those years ago, she was in the hospital bed in Wickby. He revealed himself to be the boy creature Woody. This vile, stinking wretch was, if her memories were to be believed, Benjamin Blood her first love. Her heart raced, pounding in her chest and Woody could hear each beat.

  His head hurt. It wasn’t from the fall that much he knew. Memories were not real for Woody but this creature before him was something familiar, something he had encountered before, or was she? Rose was starting to panic. She had no idea what was going on. To her, this was a beast, a monster, a dangerous creature of the woods and most definitely something to be feared. To her astonishment, her mother dropper her weapon and took a slow, deliberate step forward.

  “Mum?”

  She grabbed her arm, and Daisy paused. This was crazy. For a moment, the creature softened. Its entire demeanour changed. His face looked younger, kind almost and right before her eyes, Rose witnessed a transformation without any of it being obvious. The subtlety of how an eye brightens or how the curl of a lip can change from cruel to kind is impossible to measure but it was all there. Daisy gently released herself from her daughter’s concerned grip and walked towards the creature.

  Woody wasn’t sure what was happening. An instinctual creature, this felt wrong. He wasn’t afraid of Daisy but she shouldn’t be coming to him that much he knew. He darkened again and crouched, hissing a threat of intent. Daisy kept coming. Slowly, picking her steps ever so carefully on the uneven forest floor, she closed the gap between them, unafraid. She held out her hand. Daisy knew Woody. He wasn’t the thing that her daughter saw in him. She was remembering. It felt like a dream, only now she knew it wasn’t.

  “Benjamin? It’s me Daisy May…”

  She stopped about five feet away, sensing his unease and hunkered down so he was taller than her and again stretched out her hand.

  “Remember?”

  Woody couldn’t take his eyes off the strange woman. This was all wrong; he knew it even if he didn’t know why. She pleaded with him in her softest tone and her face lost all the years of pain, her youth shining through as she did so.

  “You must remember me Benjamin, think, it’s me… remember?”

  There were a few moments of complete silence. It was as though the sound had been completely switched off. Nothing moved and in the chill of that moment Daisy May Coppertop, felt something that she had not felt for a long time. It was abject, utter and complete terror. She was looking into Woody’s eyes, caught up in the trance of her fantasy when she recognised something. It wasn’t Benjamin that snarled before her.

  Woody’s upper lip curled revealing the fangs Daisy had encountered the last time she visited Darkly Wood. This was no boy turned wild. This was not her lost love Benjamin Blood. In the moment that she recognised her mistake, Woody struck. He pounced, closing the gap between then in a second and he knocked Daisy onto her back. His swinging right claw tore open her left shoulder and he pinned her by the throat with his free hand.

  It was a crushing, deathly grip and as he squeezed her larynx, Woody tossed his head back revealing the full glory of what lay beneath those horrible purple lips. He would have her now in that moment, his blood lust to be fulfilled and he lunged down with his greedy mouth to tear away flesh from bone on her face.

  The kick to his face was so forceful, Woody was sent spinning backwards. Rose grabbed her mother’s arm and pulled her to her feet and both were already running before Woody could react.

  “Run Mum run!”

  Daisy may didn’t need to be told. Both women were bounding through the forest, adrenalin filled, terrified of the beast that was back on his feet scurrying through the undergrowth behind them.

  It was impossible terrain and they stumbled along, faces being whipped by branches, the uneven surface beneath their feet playing tricks on their balance. Woody was incredibly fast and he was closing with every step.

  They were forced to ascend a rocky outcrop and as low green cover beneath their feet was replaced with hard smooth boulders, they both glanced back to see the movement in the ferns below. On all fours now, Woody had almost caught them already.

  It was a short climb but as they reached the top, Woody was only a few yards behind them. Both women scrambled on to the top of the rocky outcrop and there was only one way to go, down. They
began a half-slip that quickly became a stumbling sliding fall of a descent about fifty metres long. At the top Woody leapt skyward and disappeared into the tree tops. Neither woman saw where he went, they were too focussed on not hurting themselves in the descent.

  At the bottom they were up and running again without even a glance over their shoulders. Rose took the lead as Daisy’s age started to take its toll. Her shoulder was bleeding and the pain grew with every footfall. The last time she had run through this forest, Daisy May Coppertop was just a slip of a girl. Now she was a grandmother and adrenalin can only push you so far. The inevitable fall off from that rush came and her legs began to fold under the pressure. As the gap opened up Rose glanced over her shoulder and stopped to wait for her mother. She surveyed the ground behind Daisy and couldn’t see the beast. Looking left and right it appeared that he was gone, but she didn’t believe that for one second, so she encouraged her mother.

  “Come on Mum.”

  Unlike Rose, Daisy May knew what Woody was truly capable of and she didn’t stop, no matter how much she wanted to just drop there on the forest floor. Both women carried on, Rose slowing to keep pace with her mother, encouraging her as she saw her begin to weaken and falter. The wood was controlling their destination. They couldn’t choose a path as the landscape forced them one way then the next. It closed in around them until they found themselves facing a narrowing track, almost bound in completely on both sides by thick hawthorn and bramble. They stopped and looked back.

  “I’m not going through there.” Rose declared her intent clearly.

  The only sound was their own laboured panting and both stood stooped, hands on their knees facing each other, sucking precious air to feed their aching muscles. The path ahead looked like a tunnel and a trap, but going back didn’t feel like an option. Standing still was soon ruled out. A lout clattering twig-snapping, leaf rushing swoosh, descended from the trees about fifty yards back and they knew what was dropping from above.