Darkly Wood II

by Power, Max

  “I wouldn’t put a dog out of his misery, why should I help you?”

  His words were chilling and he removed his foot, turned and walked out through the door closing it behind him. Cathecus lay dying on the floor, gasping his last breaths, knowing that whichever hell he was going to, he had at least finally escaped this one.

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE – SIX IS A CROWD .

  Daisy May Coppertop was a very particular kind of woman. She learned on her very first trip to Darkly Wood, that within her, she had courage that she might never have discovered where it not for the very peculiar danger she had faced. Courage can be a hard thing to find, but once discovered it is learned and cannot be unlearned. Like her daughter and Granddaughter, Daisy was frightened. She understood just how dangerous the creatures she now faced were.

  When she shouted Run, she fully expected the two boy-beasts to take off after them. For that reason, Daisy stood her ground. Her duty, her job, her need, was to protect her babies. If that meant she would finally die alone in Darkly Wood, then it was something she was prepared to do.

  She had no intention of making it an easy sacrifice. If these creatures were going to kill her, then Daisy was prepared to put up a fight and even as she called for her girls to run, she was already sizing up which creature she would have to tackle first. It was an almost impossible decision. Daisy needed them both to go for her, if even one of them got past her, then she would fail. She took a stance, prepared to block, harry, delay and ultimately fight the beasts to prevent them getting past her or at the very least to slow them down. The big problem was that they were ten yards apart and if she went for one, she couldn’t be sure the other would go for her also, or simply bypass the granny and go for her offspring.

  So she shouted “Run” much in hope rather than expectation and then she thought all hell would break loose. But neither beast moved. They started to move, perhaps just a hint of a false start, but then stopped as though stuck to the spot. All of her focus was on the creatures and behind her; the noise she heard was in her mind, simply the sound of her girls running. But she was wrong. When the beasts slowly backed off then hunkered down quietly, staring over her shoulder, Daisy knew there was something wrong. She spun around.

  “So we meet at last.”

  Standing behind her was a tall broad man, dressed in a tatty coat, wearing an old top hat with a scarf wrapped around his face. He seemed completely out of place and Daisy looked back at the creatures, which were now hunched calmly on the forest floor, then she looked back at the strange man behind her. Daisy looked for Rose and Holly and at first she didn’t see them. But as she looked for them, she saw the disturbance in the ferns on the floor of the forest. Both girls lay unconscious and still, one to the left of the gentleman and one to the right. Her instinct told her to run to them, but then, much like the time she had saved herself in the wood all of those years ago, Daisy held back. It wasn’t the first time she had chosen to go against her first instinct and it was a wise decision.

  “Rose and Holly are perfectly fine. They are merely sleeping. I wouldn’t hurt them, not yet anyway.” He coughed and raised his gloved hand to where his mouth would be behind the scarf. He lied of course. When the girls turned to run, Wormhold had been waiting behind a nearby oak. Both girls froze in their surprise. He stepped forward and hit then both with such ferocity, that they were rendered unconscious before they could say a word. The sound Daisy had heard wasn’t them running, but the sound of them falling. That the stranger knew their names didn’t pass her by but Daisy was cautious so she didn’t say anything at first.

  “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Wormhold and I’ve been waiting a very long time to meet you.” He took a slight bow and removed his hat. As he straightened, he ran his free hand through his long brown, thick head of hair and then he pulled the scarf from around his face. He was a handsome man, with a strong jaw and thick ruby lips.

  Daisy glanced over her shoulder once more and saw the creatures were sitting on the ground, calmly watching Wormhold like two dogs would watch their master. She kept her council.

  “I’m surprised you came back here. Not many get the opportunity. Such a clever girl.”

  Daisy hadn’t been called a girl in a very long time. Still she kept her mouth shut and stood facing Wormhold, knowing this was some kind of trap. This man was not her saviour from the beasts. This was something far worse and she knew it. Daisy May Coppertop was wary of everything that moved in Darkly Wood. This man gave her no cause to believe he was any less of a threat to her.

  “Oh, don’t worry about the boys,” Wormhold waved in their general direction with a wiggle of his fingers, “they won’t do you any harm.”

  He crossed his arms behind his back and studied Daisy May. She was calm before him and although he hadn’t been in the Wood for her previous encounter with Woody, he knew all about Daisy May Coppertop. He knew all too well that she was not a simple woman. Still attractive though not a classic beauty, she wore her greyness well, the ginger of her hair having long abandoned her. Her calmness impressed Wormhold and he admired the appearance at least of such courage in the face of what she knew must be an inescapable faith. Or did she really believe that there was still hope? Wormhold for all his power needed to be cautious around Daisy May Coppertop. He needed to know just how much she knew and remembered about Darkly Wood.

  “Hope is painful burden Daisy May. Don’t be dragged down by its promise, you will only be disappointed.”

  He took a single, booted step towards her and she gave away her fear at last with the tiniest of reactions, a little almost imperceptible flinch. He smiled at his little victory and Daisy was angry with herself for she knew what he had done. It forced her to react.

  “What do you want Snailman?”

  It was a small silly attempt at lessening his sense of control. Daisy had no idea what this man’s weakness was, so she decided to aim for his ego and see if that hit the mark to begin with. Men were always most vulnerable when it came to their egos.

  “Wormhold, the name is Wormhold.”

  Although he smiled as he corrected her and spoke in soft tones, there was a slight tensing of his shoulders and he repeated his name in the correction. Daisy thought she might be right. She waited and he looked at her as if to ask “What?” He had forgotten her question in correcting the most important thing she said … his name. She was right.

  “Wormhold.” She repeated his name, saying it slowly; rolling the letters in her mouth and Daisy crossed her arms behind her back and turned to face the beasts behind her, deliberately dismissing her fear of him.

  The creature she knew as Woody, the boy she knew as Benjamin was clearly different in her eyes to the other boy-beast. They were like twins that she could tell apart and Daisy looked at Woody and smiled a big smile. The tension in both creatures was palpable. It was as though they wanted to attack but Wormhold’s presence was holding them back. He was their lord and master for sure and she had to find a way to take over some of the control. Daisy’s father had taught her that inaction was her enemy and she had learned that lesson for herself on her last visit to Darkly Wood. Being afraid was one thing, letting it control you was an entirely different matter.

  Much to the creatures’ and Wormhold’s surprise, she strode straight up to one Woody and hunkered down directly in front of him. The Charlie beast hissed from his place, straining his neck in her direction. He clawed the air. The Woody she knew to be Benjamin didn’t move. He sniffed the air, inhaling Daisy’s scent and he closed his eyes.

  Wormhold didn’t quite know what to do. This was unexpected. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself. He needed to choose his words carefully. Inside, anger was brewing and Wormhold needed to remain in control. He had lured Daisy May Coppertop to Darkly Wood for a reason. Wormhold simply couldn’t get distracted from his purpose.

  Daisy reached out her hand and touched Woody’s cheek. It was Benjamin she felt when her hand rested there. He didn’t flinch
or open his eyes. He simply relaxed into her cupped hand and Daisy saw her Benjamin beneath the horror of the creature.

  “Benjamin.” She whispered his name and he opened his eyes. There he was smiling back at her. He reached up and placed his hand over her hand as it rested on his cheek. She didn’t care what it looked like. This was something she remembered. Daisy couldn’t take her eyes from Benjamin and in that moment she was transported back to the day she had first gone walking with the handsome boy in her new home town. Daisy took every step with him up through the meadow and into Darkly Wood. She was recalling the first time that he touched her arm, took her hand and the first time that he had kissed her. It was the first time any boy had kissed her.

  “ENOUGH!”

  Wormhold’s irritation had got the better of him and the shout was aimed at Benjamin who immediately withdrew from Daisy’s tender touch. The Charlie beast hissed at both Daisy and Benjamin now. Woody was barely visible. Daisy had a calming effect on his wild creature that Wormhold did not like.

  “Come, follow me!”

  Wormhold strode with a purpose past Daisy, between his minions and off in the direction of a dense patch of hawthorn at the far side of the clearing. He appeared to be walking towards a cul-de-sac but just as he reached it, he turned to Daisy and waved at her to follow.

  “Well come on then girl!” It was a long time since she had been called girl. “Six is a crowd. If you want to know why you are here, then come with me now. Those two will be fine when they wake up. My boys will watch over them.”

  Daisy knew that this was not an invitation that she was able to refuse. Wormhold had taken control again. He held all the cards. Daisy simply had to follow. She had learned a long time ago to fight only the battles she could win. This small one was over. She had held the high ground for a short time, but Wormhold had out-flanked her. She stood up and walked to him.

  As she reached Wormhold she saw an opening in the brush that hadn’t been clear before. He walked through and she followed. Beyond the narrow gap in the undergrowth, there was a narrow winding trail, closing in all around were twisted thorny bramble and hawthorn. It was a tunnel through the densest part of the forest that felt quite claustrophobic and Daisy had a vague memory of being there before. After a long silent walk, they emerged to another clearing and this time, Daisy May knew she had been to this place before.

  They were standing in the clearing at the centre of the wood. Wormhold walked to the middle of the clearing and turned to face Daisy May Coppertop once again, but before he spoke, Wormhold very deliberately wrapped his thick long scarf about his face as though he was protecting his face from a fierce wintery breeze. It was such an odd thing to do.

  “You’ve been here before haven’t you my dear?”

  Of course she had. The memory of this place felt like a dream for most of her life, but now in the oppressive staleness of the air, she knew this place and her dream was a reality once again. She looked up at the tops of the leaf-bare trees, whose dense, blackened tops, reached to each other, touching, blocking out the daylight, leaving only a half-light of murky faded reality. Underfoot the ground was a mess of decay, damp and foul, moving in places with things she didn’t want to consider. Daisy needed to get back on top, but from what she remembered, that was going to be tough in this place. She had escaped the clutches of the beast Woody on this very spot once before, but Wormhold was a far greater adversary and she was no longer a slip of a brave girl, ready to take on the world. Wormhold snapped her out of her thoughts.

  “Time to tell you the truth Daisy May Coppertop. I think you should know who you are.”

  CHAPTER FORTY – 1946

  Wormhold never quite imagined things would end up this way. The year was 1946 and while the war had ravaged much of Europe, he had remained untouched by the violence. He was a man fighting an internal war. The whys and the wherefores of his existence were clear to him to a large extent, but he couldn’t quite get over the one thing that he could not control.

  Love was ultimately his undoing. But it was an old and almost vanquished thing that he could not recapture, no matter how hard he tried. Wormhold’s cycle of hate, his endless reinvention and cruelty had to have purpose and it was the one thing he could not conceive of. If that purpose was to find his love again, then yes, maybe there was sense to it all, even in his senseless life.

  Unlike Woody, Wormhold was free to come and go as he pleased. He was tied to Darkly Wood, they were inseparable in many ways, but like lovers, they could part only to enjoy the sweetness of their reunion again. But as sometimes lovers do, Wormhold tired of the wood and needed some space for himself from time to time. On such days he was bound for more mischief than he knew he should engage in, but that was his way.

  As he stood on the empty beach, the wind tossing his hair, his coat tails flapping about his legs, a soft voice shook him from his thoughts.

  “My, you are over-dressed for a trip to the sea on a beautiful day like today.”

  He snapped around, startled. Very little took Wormhold by surprise and he never snapped around in fright. It was a new experience. Standing there was a tiny, slip of a girl, a brunette with wavy hair and a startling, honest smile. Her hair blew back from her face and her eyes danced.

  “I beg your pardon?” Wormhold was, perhaps for the first time in his life taken completely off guard. The girl was holding on to the handlebars of her bicycle. In its basket was a collection of sea shells.

  “You,” she said, “your coat, your scarf and boots, a hat in your hand, very warm I’d say.”

  He looked at the girl. She wore a simple, plain red dress. It was a summer dress with short sleeves. She wore no make-up except for red lipstick and it struck him that he must indeed look strange, a man dressed for winter standing on the beach on a sunny, albeit breezy day in the middle of summer. Wormhold cared not for seasons, but she was not to know that. He found himself smiling at her forthright approach, a young woman alone talking to a stranger with no fear nor concern. There was something about this girl, but he couldn’t work it out. She felt familiar.

  “Don’t you just love the sea?” She smiled and looked out at the water and he stood there beside her, turning also to face the water as the waves rolled onto the sand. They stood there in silence for a few moments simply watching it together as though they were old friends.

  “You have the look of a man that has never seen the sea before.”

  Her boldness charmed Wormhold.

  “I have travelled the world my dear.” He corrected her ignorance. “I have seen the great Pacific, crossed the mighty Atlantic and sailed across the Indian Ocean. The sea is not new to me.” He unravelled his scarf from about his face and smiled a broad white teethed smile.

  “But have you ever been in the sea?”

  It was a strange, unexpected question which caught Wormhold somewhat off guard once again.

  “I bet you haven’t?”

  She was correct of course, but how she might perceive such a thing was beyond him. Once again he was at a loss for words. She didn’t wait for an answer.

  “Why would a man travel the world, see all the great oceans and never dip his toe in the water? It seems such an oddity don’t you think?”

  She was truly precocious and he began to fluster a little.

  “I... b...bb...weh...I...There is…”

  Wormhold found himself in the unlikely position, the unfamiliar circumstance of feeling that he had to explain himself. She cut him off.

  “There can only be one reason of course.” Again she smiled. It was beguiling, infectious and Wormhold found himself smiling back at this strange young woman who dared approach him like he was approachable. It had been a long time since he had spoken to a woman. Wormhold had given up on such conversations. He found them very unnerving generally. Mostly he found them boring, without substance or interest, talking of things that were of no matter or importance and generally, in recent times, Wormhold found he had begun to dislike all women in
general. But this girl was different. She brought a fire to the conversation. Nothing she said was of any greater interest than most girls he had crossed paths with, it was something else. She challenged him. The waif dared him to respond, confused him, knocked him off-guard with the simplest of words and he didn’t know whether to like her or loathe her, but whatever he felt, the girl ultimately fascinated him. She elaborated.

  “You’re afraid.”

  It was a bold statement. It wasn’t a question or an exploration. She spoke of fact, with certainty and clarity. She didn’t tilt her head or inflect her tone to question. Oh no, this girl was telling him, that he was afraid. She knew it as she knew herself it appeared. She stood there brazen as you like by his side, looking out across the water and he followed her gaze. He did not deny it at first. But then she pressed him to agree.

  “You’re afraid, aren’t you? You’re afraid of the water.”

  Wormhold feared neither man nor thing. He was a singularly fearless creature of the world and fear was never something that he had to contemplate, not until now.

  “Of course not!”

  She turned her head and looked up at him. He looked down at her as she stood there beside him, a tiny little creature in the shadow of his monstrous form. He could overwhelm her in a blinking; crush her without even moving more than a hand. She bore a face of sorrow, her bottom lip slightly pouting. She was mocking him.

  “Poor baby is afraid of the water.”

  Normally, Wormhold wouldn’t take such an insult, such a taunt, but then she smiled and laughed, just a little. He found himself smiling in return.

  “Well, there is only one way to overcome your fears don’t you know. You have to face them. Kick off those big ugly boots and come for a paddle with me.”

  Wormhold was astounded by her arrogance and wild demanding nature. He would do no such thing. But then she thrust her bicycle towards him. He grabbed the handlebars as she let go, dropping his hat in the process.