Darkly Wood II

by Power, Max

  Being an astute man of the forest, he was curious about how Darkly Wood presented itself to him. At first it seemed like any other small forest. The trees were well scattered at the edge, there were many small saplings trying to make their way to fullness before some creature decided they were food. The grass leading to the wood was long but beneath the trees at the edge, the competition for space and light began in earnest.

  It was not a single variety forest; there were all sorts of trees here, many oak and sycamore along with chestnut, hazel, hawthorn and whitethorn. Bramble and gorse kept diverting him and as he moved away from the forest’s edge, the light quickly dimmed. When he looked up, the canopy became dense, almost too dense for the quantity of trees. They seemed to flourish at the top and their upper branches spread unnaturally thick to join together in a conspiracy of darkness.

  He felt the drop in temperature almost immediately as he began to move in a little deeper. Magne came across a rocky outcrop just a little further inside the wood and he decided he would explore. As he moved the ground was uneven. His feet disappeared beneath fern and grass and it was hard to see what he might step on. But Magne was dressed for his adventure. His boots were thick and waterproof. He wore canvas trousers and his lightweight weatherproof jacket had taken worse than the odd scrape of bramble.

  But Darkly Wood was not an easy place to conquer. It did not lightly let those who stepped beyond its borders take what they wanted. He was forced left and right and it took an oddly long time to get close to the rocks he wanted to climb. As he got close, there was a dip in the forest floor, a small valley as it were, dropping he estimated, a good thirty feet.

  Carefully, he descended and then began to climb but once more there was no direct route. This simple, gentle looking forest was turning out to be a far greater challenge than Magne had anticipated. Eventually he made his way to the top and he sat there taking in the forest surrounding him. From his knapsack, he took out a bottle of water and drank thirstily.

  He wondered which way he might go. From the outside, Darkly Wood seemed to be quite a small forest. Sitting there beyond the fringes it felt as though it was a much larger place. From inside, it seemed as though he might have a battle through this woodland but for Magne that was the challenge.

  His choice was simple in the end. Magne instinctively chose the most difficult looking route. Easy was never the choice for the hardy Norwegian. In a strange way it was this desire to go against the grain, that led Magne to a fate he could never imagined.

  When Daisy May first came to Darkly Wood, it was instinct and her different way of thinking that got her into and out of trouble. Unwittingly, Magne was now taking a similar course of action. Darkly Wood drove the unwanted traveller away from the secrets at its heart and the chosen ones were led to the danger that waited for them, lurking in the shadows until escape was impossible. There were many devices employed to achieve this Goal, Wormhold, Woody and all that was unseen, but on this particular day there were distractions in Darkly Wood.

  Wormhold was now playing his end game with Daisy May and he would not be disturbed. Having left Benjamin and Charlie to watch over Rose and Holly, he knew it was only a matter of time before they forgot about Wormhold’s power over them. He was far too busy to care. Sooner or later the two creatures of his dominion would set loose and the girls’ fate would be sealed.

  So a wandering Norseman, challenging the wood itself by breaking through woodland barriers no other would dare try to overcome and climbing rocky outcrops, ascending unclimbable trees and moving forward against the grain of the wood, was something that for the moment at least, went unnoticed.

  Magne was enjoying himself. He had never been so challenged by such a place. He chose a direction and tried to stick to it. Any lesser man would have been thwarted but not Magne. He was faced with a shear rock face, only fifteen feet high but its purpose was to drive Magne left or right. But that’s not what happened. He took a run and a bound and scrambled until his mighty leap left him with fingertips barely grasping onto the edge.

  His hands met bramble lying on the edge and he screamed, releasing his tenuous grip and he fell to the forest floor. He should have given up. But no, he did not. He dug again into his trusty rucksack and produced a pair of thick gloves. Once more he made an assault on the ledge above and once again he managed to grab on with his hands to the top ledge. This time the bramble did not stop him. When he had dragged himself to his feet at the top, he felt a great sense of achievement. It was such a small victory in principle, but Magne began to feel as though this place was trying to make a personal challenge to him. He was not far wrong.

  Immediately he was being driven to the side and away from the direction he had chosen. What greeted him was an almost impenetrable wall of hawthorn, intertwined with the same bramble that lay at his feet. Magne could make the simple choice and follow the paths set out for him. But there was something about this new wall of forest that intrigued him. It felt man made, unnatural. It was there for a purpose, there to keep someone out or something in. Either way, the intrigue encouraged Magne to push on.

  In his bag, packed for adventure in the woods, Magne had ensured to carry a small hand axe. It was hardly ideal for the bramble and hawthorn, but it would work. He began to pick and hack a gap large enough to fit through. It took him a solid hour and at the end he was slashed and cut from the sharp thorns that tried with every cut to exact revenge. Magne made it through nonetheless and when he did, he collapsed in a heap of sweat and exhaustion to the ground.

  He smiled to himself, victorious. When he had a drink to quench his thirst, he repacked his gloves, axe and water into his rucksack and looked around. He had found himself on a path of sorts. The trees all along the way ahead, bent over to form what looked like a tunnel. There was hardly any light here, but Magne was sure that this path led to something special. This is what Darkly was keeping him from and he knew the path was not the real secret. The path had a destination; the only question was left or right.

  His decision was made as he heard an unholy screeching sound like nothing he had ever heard before.

  “Wasssssseeeeech!!!”

  CHAPTER FIFTY THREE - THE INTRUDER

  The screech was louder than the girls had heard before. It was a signal of intent. This was Woody, at his fiercest and wildest. He had a desire for blood now. There would be no mercy, no escape for his victims.

  One of the problems was always memory. Woody forgot as soon as he had acted. All he had was instinct, led chiefly by desire or fear. When he saw the water, Woody was uncertain of what to do. This particular part of the wood was not one he came to often. The water threw him. Could he walk on it? Was it a trap? Memory held him back but only for a moment.

  Wormhold’s grip on him was forgotten. When he was close, Woody was under his spell but now it was like he didn’t even exist. He reached down and tested the water with his fingers and when he did then he knew it was not the obstacle he had first thought.

  He felt the desire rise and overcome his fear. His prey had nowhere to run. They clung to each other in the centre of the pond, within easy reach now that he had nothing to fear. Charlie scrambled to his side, hunkered down, bouncing on his joints, still somewhat afraid of the water, wild and ready for a feeding frenzy. He watched the other beast and knew instinctively that this creature knew more than he did. He was watching, waiting and always learning.

  Woody, the beast that once was Benjamin, lifted his foot and gingerly lowered it into the water. It was cold, but Woody never minded the cold. He lowered his foot until it hit the ground at the bottom and when it did he looked at his foot through the ripples. Woody glanced back at his trailing leg and then brought it forward, effectively taking his first full step into the pond and when his second foot landed on solid ground beneath the shallows, he looked up at Rose. A broad grin crossed his face.

  It was a truly horrible and frightening expression and he crouched a little now, already lifting his trailing leg to move
forward. Charlie stood up straight and now tested the water himself. Rose and Holly looked about frantically, trying to decide which way to run. There was no escape and all was lost. In a few moments, these two wild vicious creatures would be upon them. Her instinct drove Rose to stand in front of her daughter, gently pulling her behind her, using her own body as a shield. She knew it was hopeless but Rose had to try.

  Now both creatures crouched, Benjamin just ahead of Charlie, stepping one foot at a time, slowly, inexorably closing the gap. It was a slow tortuous tromp through the water in the wood and Rose began to back away, Holly holding her hips from behind, following her lead.

  “Mum, what are we going to do?”

  Rose could hear the fear in her voice but she had little consolation.

  “Keep moving.” She had nothing else to offer.

  There was no hurry now. Woody knew the girls were his. There was something delicious in their fear. It was always thus. Fear tasted almost good as the meat he would soon feel tearing from their bones, perhaps better. He sniffed the air and closed his eyes for a moment and Charlie did the same. He inhaled their scent greedily but then he stopped moving.

  Instinctively he stiffened. Charlie felt it. They were not like wolves these two. They had the same strong senses even though these beasts were not pack animals but lone hunters. That didn’t matter. The Charlie beast reacted with an animal instinct that was pure and wild. Something was wrong. Rose stopped moving and Holly copied her. What was it? She felt it too. Woody craned his head to the left and raised his chin, sniffing the air again only this time deeper. Rose looked over her shoulder at Holly. There was an exchange of confused looks. She stopped because once Woody stopped, her movement and the noise of her feet on the water felt like a beacon of sound. Now that something else had caught the creatures’ attention, she didn’t want to draw it back.

  In a movement that startled the girls, Woody spun around and looked back behind him to the left. Something was wrong. Something was coming. At first the girls didn’t hear it and clearly these creatures of the forest had better senses, but it wasn’t long before Rose and Holly looked at the same point in the unbroken line of scrub thick brush at the edge of the pond.

  Something was there. It was something big and loud and moments later they saw movement in the brush, as whatever it was began to tear its way through the undergrowth. The creatures took one pace toward the movement but stopped. Rose realised that the beasts were as surprised as they were. The thrashing became more vigorous and louder. Rose took both the moment and the initiative. She grabbed her daughter’s hand and led her off to the side of the creatures.

  When they drew level with Woody, no more than three metres away, the creature whipped his neck around as if remembering why he was there in the first place. He hissed at her but turned his attention back to the now wild movement in the tree line. As though together in that moment, all four simply stood and stared as Magne exploded through the thorny scrub.

  He was some sight. A Norse woodsman, his face covered in scratches, sweat dripping from his nose, all hair and shoulders, a hand axe dangling from his big man hands. Both creatures actually took a step back in surprise. He looked like a true Viking warrior. His eyes danced with excitement and he actually smiled.

  The first thing Magne saw was the girls and it was because of this that he instinctively smiled a broad full teeth smile, but no sooner had he smiled than he looked to their right and saw the wild beasts of the forest. He had no idea what he was looking at but the danger they threatened was impossible to miss. The slightest wrong move would have them on him. He understood creatures, or so he thought. Magne had hunted Bear and had encountered wolves many times. His instinct kept him from reacting. Anyone else would have jumped, startled with the fright, but not Magne.

  Fear was the weakness. He had no idea what he was facing but at least these two were smaller than he was and he had his axe. They hissed at him, crouched and advanced one step, bearing rows of sharp canine-like teeth and he saw they had long fingers with nails thick and curled like talons. It was clear that tooth or claw was equally dangerous and he had yet to discover their nature.

  Magne stood his ground, puffed himself up to his full impressive height, spread his arms, shook his hair back from his face and roared a mighty roar. He had heard the beast screech so knew they held terror in their voice. He had to try to match it.

  The bellow resonated through the little clearing and beyond, deeper into the wood. It would have cleared birds from trees if there had been any. Again it stopped the two creatures in their tracks. When he spoke, it was in a soft calm voice and it took Rose and Holly by surprise.

  “Circle around me. Take the path behind me when I say. Run, don’t stop until you see where I broke through the tunnel of trees.” They didn’t understand but did not interrupt. “Get out of this place. Run straight and true, don’t turn, look back.”

  His accent was such a surprise. Everything about him was a surprise. In that moment Magne was indeed Viking. The blood of his ancestors, the genetic memory rose. He moved away to the girls left, drawing the beasts’ attention and leaving them with a clear path to the place where he had broken through. He raised his axe in his right hand and with his left; he made a subtle waving gesture at his hip, indicating that they should start to move to the gap in the tree line.

  Woody looked at Charlie and then at the girls. They could wait. The intruder took priority. It was very confusing. No one got this far into Darkly Wood without an invitation so to speak. As the girls moved slowly towards the gap, not waiting for Magne’s instruction, the two beasts turned all their attention on Magne. Charlie was closer and in a move that surprised him, Woody leapt up from the side and landed a fierce blow, elbow first, cracking down on the unsuspecting Charlie’s head. They were all taken by surprise, not least Charlie. He was stunned. Woody grabbed his head and pushed it under the water and the Charlie beast flayed and struggled as he began to drown. With his attention drawn, Magne moved back towards the gap and waved the girls past him and they took off. Magne stood there for a moment to make sure the creature hadn’t turned on them, but Woody was still holding the other beast down. Magne dipped his head through the gap and followed the girls.

  No sooner were they through than Woody spun his head and realised what had happened. Charlie was putting up more of a fight than he had expected. It was nothing personal. In Darkly Wood there was no place for anything other than instinct and Woody believed that the wood belonged to him. Everything in here was his. Charlie was competition, nothing more, nothing less. But as he struggled, his prey was escaping. He released Charlie’s head and as he rose gasping for air, Woody slammed his heel down on his face and he slumped into the water.

  Woody took off after the intruder and the girls. He knew he would catch them. As he reached the tree line, he sprung up and grasped a tree branch. He swung, at first away from the direction they had run but then up and around and through a small almost invisible gap in the thick cloud of branches that made up the canopy. Charlie sat up and spat out water just in time to see Woody disappear through the trees in pursuit of his victims from above. He sprang to his feet, instantly forgetting the pain of his beating and he scurried to the water’s edge.

  He looked up as if to contemplate following Woody but then thought the better of it. He sniffed the air and snarled, the beast in him again fully conscious of what he needed to do. The Charlie-beast moved cautiously nearer the space through which the girls had escaped and again sniffed the air and tasted it with his tongue. He jumped through the gap in a mighty leap and was on the track chasing the strange man and the two girls. They would be his. Like Woody, there was no room for anything but his own selfish desire. He would have his victims and they would be all his and his alone. The other Woody didn’t even factor in his hunt. He ran on all fours, closing the gap with each bound, not in the slightest bit concerned about what might happen when he caught them.

  Benjamin and Charlie would be in competit
ion again but the Charlie-beast didn’t care. He only knew what he must do and as to beast of the wood, a beast of the moment, what had gone before was irrelevant.

  CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR - MISS CLAUDETTE

  Nothing could have prepared Daisy May Coppertop for what she encountered once she stepped through that door. She entered a huge pantry filled with food. At the far end there was another door. It was ajar and she could hear a busy kitchen beyond. Slowly she walked towards kitchen sounds and opened the door fully. Beyond was a rather large, very old style kitchen.

  That was not the strangest thing; it was occupied by two women dressed in very unusual outfits. The whole room looked like a scene from history. Daisy looked back at Wormhold and almost jumped with the fright. He was almost on her shoulder. It wasn’t the Wormhold of the forest she saw now. He was like some transformed version from the moment he had unravelled his scarf at the top of the stairs. It was still him, of that there was no question but he was younger looking, clean, his coat fresh and a brand new scarf folded over his bent arm in which he held a beautiful top hat. He smiled and a row of crisp white teeth filled his face. Wormhold was quite handsome. He took her by the elbow and led her through the kitchen to another set of stairs. The kitchen people froze when they saw him and said nothing. Each one stopped what they were doing as he passed; heads bowed and didn’t move again until he was clear.

  Upstairs, he led her to a room closed off to an elegant reception area by a huge set of doors and when she entered Daisy May Coppertop found that she was in an enormous and splendid library room. It was very impressive. The books were floor to ceiling, there was a ladder on rails to reach the upper levels and even a walkway on one side where you could access a small mezzanine floor. She spun around trying to take it all in.