8: A gripping dark fantasy mystery

by Georgina Bartlett

  “Hold on tight,” Forrest teased as he gave the horse a gentle tap. It bolted into the woods, Amour and Mort following close behind.

  Four

  There was a crescent moon in the early morning sky as Justine strolled down the gravel road. A breeze blew along the way and greeted the line of trees that bordered the path, their branches and leaves creaking in response. Dawn was her favourite time of day, the few early hours that made every possibility feel possible.

  She knew this Hyde Park road well. It was naturally beautiful and took her to the same location she would visit every Sunday since she was fourteen, the stables. It wasn’t only that Justine liked horses more than people, it was the fact that she didn’t have to work to make them happy. All she had to do was turn up, that was enough. And this was the one place she felt she could really let her hair down, figuratively, and literally.

  She wore her cream jodhpurs, which would be covered in mud by the time she was done and a thick blue riding jacket. It was a part of herself she could keep from the rest of the world. The few who knew this side of her were Cosmo, her black stallion, and Jason, the stableman. She’d been coming here since she was a teenager and had had a crush on Jason from the moment she met him. They had shared a lot with each other about their pasts and regrets. She’d shared things with him she would take to her grave.

  Jason was rugged but in touch with his emotions. He was the perfect guy, but she was the friend and nothing more. Still, she made sure to smooth down her clothes and tuck her chestnut hair behind her ears before she entered the stables.

  It was quiet. The only sound came from the horses eating their hay and wandering around their pens. It was a small stable with only six horses. Justine walked up to her boy, Cosmo. It was as if he had been waiting for her. Near the back of his pen, he trotted quickly to the door and rested his head in her hands. She scratched under his chin and saw his eyes close in delight. She had bought him when he was a colt, only a few weeks old. He was now ten years old and in the prime of his life. He had a completely black coat without any blemishes and a mane that most women would be jealous of. He was magnificent.

  “Hey, Cosmo and I were wondering where you were,” Jason remarked, a wheelbarrow of hay in front of him and sweat running down his chiselled beige skin.

  “Hey. Yeah, I let myself have an extra half hour in bed this morning. Hope you boys didn’t miss me too much,” she mocked, running a hand over her braid. Cosmo gave her a questionable grunt and she flinched.

  “Well, I can’t speak for Cosmo, but I did wonder if this would be the first Sunday since we met that I wouldn’t see you,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag.

  Dressed in old jeans, a shabby sleeveless green jumper, and remnants of hay clinging to his beard, he was still desirable.

  “If that happens, you should probably call the cops, because I’ve either been kidnapped or killed.” She walked over to him and pulled the hay from his face, her lips twisting into a comical smile. “Saving this for later?” She held it up to his mouth.

  Straight faced, he stared into her eyes before making her jump when he grabbed the hay with his teeth and began to chew with vigour. “Delicious!” he exclaimed and slapped his hands together.

  “You’re so weird,” she managed, doubled over and snorting.

  “Oh, come on. You know you love it,” Jason insisted, poking her in the ribs to make her laugh more.

  “Stop!” Justine yelled, her hands up in defence. “I’ll set Cosmo on you.” Justine held herself up on Cosmos door, one arm wrapped around her ribs, recovering from the laughter. Cosmo stuck his head out, laid it on her shoulder, and nibbled her ear.

  “Whoa. Ok, I’ll back off.” He waved his rag like a white flag. “No way I’m taking on Cosmo,” Jason quipped with a smile and walked over to stroke his muzzle. “Seriously though, you good?” he asked while he stole a glance into her eyes.

  “Yeah, I’m ok. Busy work week, you know?” She trailed off, and adjusted her jacket, not wanting to revisit the events. “How’s it been here?”

  “Quiet. Just the way we like it. Right buddy?” Jason said to Cosmo and planted a kiss on his muzzle. “You planning to take him on your usual route through the park?” he asked and stuck a hand in his pocket.

  “Yup. Just some time with my boy.” She stroked Cosmo and her hand ran over Jason’s. She winced as she pulled her hand away.

  “You ok?” he asked and glanced down at her hand.

  “Right as rain,” she replied and pulled her collar away from her neck.

  “Ok. Give me a minute to get him suited up and you’ll be ready to go,” Jason assured as he grabbed a bridle and saddle on his way into the paddock. Justine watched him while she put on her rider cap, hypnotised by his gentle touch with Cosmo.

  ***

  “Jeez!” Justine said as she stepped from the shower, the tiles on the bathroom floor like knives after the hot water.

  Bent over, she towel-dried her hair and smiled. “I swear that horse picks out the muddiest puddles on purpose.” She grinned, but froze on the spot, then flicked her wet hair back and looked around. “And now I’m the woman who talks to herself. Great.”

  Sundays were just for her, no cases, no stress, and sleep in her bed. She was able to make it back to her place three or four times a week, depending on the case she was working. After her shower, she placed herself on the couch, ordered breakfast on her laptop from the local coffee shop, and turned on the morning news.

  A reporter stared out of the television with glossy eyes, Justine turned up the volume and listened to the story unfolding.

  “…Thank you, Karen.

  This morning, a man was arrested in Piccadilly Circus after police officers attended the scene. Witnesses have said two men were seen arguing before one of them pulled out a knife and started attacking members of the public. We aren’t aware at this time if there have been any injuries or fatalities, but as soon as the police make a statement, we will update you on these events.

  This is Sara Ryan reporting from Piccadilly, London. Back to you, Karen.

  Justine gazed at the television in horror, her mouth set in a thin line and her eyebrows burrowed. A buzz came to her intercom, but she didn’t hear it until the second ring. Peeling herself from the sofa she spoke over the apartment phone and released the door for the food delivery. She held the door open but kept her eyes on the TV. The on-site reporter was behind a police line that had been cordoned, she and her crew now stood in front of a police vehicle. A knock came to the door, and she opened it wider.

  “Hi. Almond croissant, chocolate muffin and caramel flat white?” a young man with tan skin asked her as she stared at him with a glazed expression. “Miss?”

  “Huh – oh yeah, that’s perfect thanks,” she said and took the paper bag from him. “Here.” She passed him a five-pound note and smiled.

  “Thanks,” he said and smiled back before he jogged down the hall.

  Closing the door, she dumped the bag on her kitchen counter behind the couch and sat back down to listen to the reporters on the news.

  ...this is the third attack in London we have seen this week and there are several reports flooding in from around the world that see the same violence. In a moment we will have professor -

  Justine turned off the television and walked to the kitchen island to grab her breakfast. She took a sip from her coffee, leaned against the counter, and put her head in her hands. “What is happening to the world?” She took a large bite of her croissant.

  Five

  A fox screamed in the distance. It sounded like a wailing banshee. The four of them had been riding for hours, their horses showing no sign of fatigue. Scattered rays of light had shone through the opening of the forest tress, but the sun was beginning to depart as they rode further into the woods. It left only heat and shrouded darkness. Amour’s horse led the way, a trail of fire left by its hooves in the dirt and leaves, its tail and mane whipping in the wind. It was a six-hour ride north to the
Atheneum tree, and they were halfway through their journey now. Forrest stole a glance behind him to look at Doc, his grey hair flailing in all directions, his head lolling as he kept drifting off. Each time he woke up, his hands grasped the briefcase tighter. Forrest sped up and gained on Amour’s horse. Once they were side by side, he signalled to his brother to pull his stead over.

  Forrest guided them to a group of trees that would give good cover. Amour and Mort followed his lead and jumped from their horses. Purple swept over the gaps in the treeline and flooded the forest with a gloom as the sun petals disappeared.

  “What’s wrong? Why have we stopped?” Amour asked as he did a sweep of the woods.

  “Amour’s right. We never stop,” Mort grumbled, her horse beating its feet against the damp ground.

  Forrest sat Doc down on a large rock that looked like it had broken free from the earth, his legs wobbly from the hours spent riding.

  “We’ve never travelled with a guest before. Could you two try to have a little bit of compassion?” Forrest berated them and dragged a hand over his bald head.

  Twigs snapped in the distance, and Forrest turned on the spot, his eyes darting in all directions.

  “I’m sorry,” Doc croaked, his chest heaving. “I’ll be ready to go in a few minutes.” He drew his handkerchief from his coat pocket and dragged it across his forehead before taking some deep breaths.

  “Doc, you have nothing to apologise for,” Forrest assured him as he walked over to a nearby tree.

  He snagged a large leaf from a low branch, peeled some bark away from the trunk so it resembled a hook, and placed his palm against the tree. With the leaf underneath the peeled bark, he took a deep breath in, and his eyes lit up, his face aglow with the colour green. On his breath out, water started to dribble from the tree, into the leaf. When it was full, he pulled away, pushed the bark back up, and placed his hand over it. After a few seconds, the tree bark was reconnected to the trunk.

  “Here, drink this.” Forrest bent down and handed the leaf to Doc.

  Doc took a greedy sip from the leaf and dropped his head back. “That’s incredible. I’ve never tasted water so…so…I don’t know what to call it. But its heavenly.”

  “Did you bring any food with you?” Forrest asked and pointed to his suitcase.

  “No, I’ll be alright. They will have food at the camp.” Doc offered Forrest the leaf.

  “I’m ok. I absorbed some from the tree when I collected the water for you.”

  “Amazing,” Doc said and smiled. “I could never understand why you all don’t eat. You used to when you were younger.”

  “Just don’t need it anymore,” Forrest admitted and shrugged.

  “What are you talking about? I eat all the time,” Amour bragged, and picked a leaf up from the floor. He set it alight, and as it turned to ash in his hand, he threw it into his mouth and swallowed it. “Hmm, delicious,” he exclaimed, and licked his lips.

  “The concept of food is…disturbing.” Mort shuddered and held her stomach like she would be sick.

  Forrest pinched the top of his nose and laughed. “Yeah, we are completely normal.”

  Suddenly Forrest was being pulled through the damp earth, his hands scratched through the mud as he tried to get his bearings and identify his invisible attacker.

  “Forrest!” Amour yelled and ran after him.

  Mort clicked her shoe against the ground and her stead came running. She ran and jumped as it came up beside her, landing on it perfectly.

  Amour’s hands lit up with fire and his arms slashed through the air. He was gaining on Forrest. Mort ran past him on her horse, close to keeping up with her brother, his body leaving dents in the floor.

  Doc watched in horror. When he tried to scramble to his feet, his legs gave way and left him unconscious on the ground.

  “Amour, look! There’s a vine around his leg. Can you hit it?” she called back to him.

  A vine attached to Forrest seemed to jump from tree to tree as it pulled him along.

  Amour nodded and sent a whistle through the woods. Within moments his horse was beside him, the fastest out of the pack. With an effortless jump he landed on his stallion and rode to meet Forrest, with the vine in view he readied a fireball to take out the travelling rope.

  “Anytime today!” Forrest yelled, spitting out mud and leaves as his head and body thrashed against the forest floor.

  “Can you see what it is?” Amour yelled as he lined up his shot, afraid of hitting his brother.

  “No, I can only see the vine, but its strong.”

  “Can you control it? You can control all creatures!” Mort shouted, her horse on Amour’s tail.

  “I’m trying. It won’t respond to me,” Forrest answered, his fingernails full of dirt as he still tried to stop himself.

  Roots and weeds flew up from the mud as he commanded them to grab him but were ripped out of the earth from the speed he was travelling.

  “Just shoot! I’ll be fine,” Forrest called to Amour.

  Amour twisted his hand around the ball of fire, letting it grow. As the flame was about to leave his hand, a vine ripped through the air and seized his arm, dispersing the flames and taking him from his horse. He was left dangling mid-air. He let his trapped hand heat up and felt resistance from the vine, a pained wail travelled through the air as his hand turned completely red.

  “That’s quite enough!” an unknown female voice spoke.

  Suddenly Forrest was released, and Amour was dropped. They were both covered in dirt.

  “Who’s there?” Mort asked, her lips turned up in anger as she dismounted her horse.

  The beast, made from twigs and mud, ran over to join Amour’s stallion, which was still alight with fire.

  “Speak!” Mort yelled, her eyes fully black, the earth trembling beneath her feet.

  “How dare you?” the voice spoke and echoed around them. “No one commands me.”

  Forrest swept dirt and leaves from his clothes and skin as he ran over to Mort, with a hand on her shoulder. His touch calmed her nerves.

  “How dare we? You attacked us!” he screamed at the stranger.

  “You and your kind deserve to be attacked, punished and treated the way you treat my trees.” A woman with dark beige skin appeared on a high tree branch in front of them.

  Yellow flowers wove like a skirt around her hips and thighs, a few single buds dotted over her legs and stomach. Long curly brown hair covered her breasts and ended just below her navel, and a crown of bright red roses atop her head was adorned with thorns.

  “Who is this crazy bitch?” Amour asked, inflamed by the dirt all over his clothes.

  “Mind your tongue,” she warned, her own tongue taking the shape of a snakes on the last syllable.

  The branch she stood on began to grow in girth and take form, until a large cat-shaped creature dropped and landed on its feet. Made purely of vines and leaves, the creature slunk towards the siblings and growled. It had two small green leaves for eyes and a burn mark on its tail.

  “Forrest, what is that thing?” Amour asked and let flame take his hands. The creature reacted to Amour and dug long, sharp nails through the ground.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Forrest answered, his hands splayed out and ready to pull roots and more from the earth to protect them all. “Who are you and what do you want?”

  The creature dragged its tail through the air with a flick, like a predator playing with its prey. From their attention being taken by the creature they didn’t see the stranger leave, no longer in front of them.

  “I am Mother to the world, and this forest is one of my many children.” Her voice carried over the thick wooded air, a foot came first and then the rest followed as she stepped out from the trunk of the tree.

  “How - how did she do that?” Mort gasped with her mouth hung open and eyebrows raised.

  “Hell, if I know, but I do know she’s about to pay for my ruined clothes.” Amour lit up
his hands. The creature in front of them sprung forward but was kept in place by roots in the earth.

  “Do it,” Forrest told his brother, his hands clenched and in control of the creature. Amour smirked at the stranger and threw his fireball through the air.

  “No, stop!” Doc screamed as he scrambled through the trees. But the ball had already left Amour’s palm and flew to meet its mark. As it was about to hit her, the stranger reached out her hand and caught the ball of fire. A slap echoed through the forest, as if they were playing a game of catch. She closed her fist around the fire, and it ran up her arm and turned her hair flame red.

  “What the-?” Armour started, shocked that someone could control his power.

  “Stop, all of you. This is Mater Natura,” Doc gasped as he caught his breath.

  “Mother Nature?” Forrest stammered.

  Doc nodded and turned to the beautiful stranger before bowing.

  “There’s no such thing,” Mort snorted.

  “Yet here I stand,” Mother Nature admonished.

  “Wait, is this some kind of joke?” Amour asked, still rattled by what had happened. He looked at his palms and back to the stranger’s flowing red hair.

  “It’s no joke. Is it so hard to believe she’s real when you are all stood here?” Doc asked them, still too unsteady on his feet. Forrest jogged over to him and held him up.

  “I don’t really care who she is. She attacked us!” Mort started, and her eyes returned to their usual blackness.

  “You attacked first, little one,” Mother Nature replied with a hiss.

  “What? We did nothing. And I’m no little girl.” The ground trembled beneath Mort’s feet and green moss on the forest floor began to die and turn a sick yellow.

  “Stop!” Mother Nature screamed and pleaded as mushrooms around the forest floor joined the same fate as the moss. Her skin bubbled and scarred as she fell to her knees, as she felt the pain Mort was inflicting on her child.

  “Mort, please stop,” Doc asked softly. She turned her black eyes to him and saw the pain in his face. Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, black dribbled down her chin, she pulled her power back and let the darkness leave.