In the Woods, by the River Read online

  In the Woods, by the River

  Bradley Eoin

  1

  There is a village in the woods, by the river.

  The ground beneath the river would appear to be normal black sand, though that is far from the truth. The source of the river comes from an oil deposit that resides beyond the horizon. A layer of oil covers the entire river and gives the water a colorful sheen.

  The woods fill a low valley from low mountains which is divided by the river. Before the river, this was a vivacious place: the two mountains were proud, strong geographies; the trees grew tall and healthy; the dull grass was kin to an emerald carpet; animals filled the valley in biblical amounts. That all ended when the river surfaced.

  Deep in the earth’s stomach, crude, black gold was bubbling. For the past week, a force had been causing disturbances, shaking the earth, tearing it here and there. One day, that same force caused the oil to push its way to the surface, leaving a gaping hole in the ground. Oil seeped from the wound like blood and slithered its way across the earth. The two proud mountains trembled when the oil neared, causing them to collapse on themselves. The oil snaked its way through the mountains. In the valley of the beautiful woods it crawled through the trees. It curved at one point and then headed towards a flat land. Eventually, the oil came to a stop and dug its way back into the earth and came to a resting place.

  The oil traveled like a river from beginning to end. At first, it flowed slowly along its path, but then it rushed from its source and flowed through its path like rapids. It appeared as if a river would replenish the land.

  The grass on either side of the river died, replaced by dust and dirt. The grass in the woods died, followed by the trees. Animals that ate in the area, too, died from consuming the oily water and dead grass. The land around the river was colorless and looked like a picture whose saturation was completely lowered.

  People didn’t come near the river, nor the area. That was until a young man came upon it. The man enjoyed hiking and he had stumbled upon some land. It seemed harmless to hike on it so he did so. On the land he smelt the specific smell of oil and followed his nose to the source.

  His eyes sparkled as he saw a bright river flowing from a hole that led to the woods. Too parched to consider why the water had a colorful sheen, the man went to the water. Taking off his backpack, he got on his knees by the river. He leaned over the water and cupped his hands in the water. It felt like thick water, yet he paid no attention to that.

  The man lifted his hands to his face and quickly sipped the water before he splashed it in his face. The unique taste didn’t bring the man to his senses, but the sensation he felt on his face did.

  He scrubbed his eyes with his hands trying to stop the pain, though that only made it worse. When the water would drip from his face, it pulled his skin. Sometimes peeling skin off, it made his face blotchy. He screamed in agonizing pain and stood. The man took a step back as he tried to wipe his face again; this only caused his skin to peel off. His knees buckled under the immense pain and he fell into the water.

  It was deeper than it appeared. He screamed underwater as his whole body ravaged in pain. His feet tried to touch the ground so he could escape, but his feet touched a weird, dark substance.

  As he was in the water, he became still. The pain was overwhelming and numbed his body. It felt like ants were crawling over his body, surely biting him, even though he could not comprehend the pain.

  The man’s body floated through the river slowly. He knew he must have been dead, for all he knew was darkness. The river deepened at one part and his body sunk to the bottom. It rested on the weird substance that covered the bottom. The feel of the bottom was not solid, yet not a liquid. It could be traveled through, though only by special ways, more than likely.

  In a comfortable position, he lied across the dark bottom. A pale hand reached up through the dark substance and grabbed the man’s right ankle; another hand came up and did the same to the left ankle. Quickly, the hands pulled the man through the dark substance.

  The pain was gone, yet he still only knew darkness. He could feel that his eyes were open, however he could not see anything. He now had complete control of his body and that eased him. The man reached out in front of him into the darkness, blindly. Cold hands met his. He jumped and tried to escape, but couldn’t. The hands felt like they had been in the water for too long, and the skin was raw; ice cold, too.

  The man felt his body being pulled through the darkness as though he was a weightless doll. He turned his head back and forth in hopes of glimpsing something, but it was unsuccessful.

  Minutes passed and he was still moving. He knew he was moving, and moving fast, but it appeared otherwise; his hair lied still on his head and he felt no wind.

  In the distance of the darkness around him he saw a dull light that appeared to flicker. As he got closer, and the light got brighter, he saw that there was a large fire. It stretched far left and right, its flames burning immensely.

  The man stopped in front of the fire. Its powerful and godlike heat licked his face and he shivered at the newfound warmth. The flames kicked back and forth from an unknown source, and the man just watched.

  “Come and see,” a voice boomed. It echoed in all directions from all directions; the man thought he was mad. His heartbeat skipped and then sped up. The presence of another was felt.

  “Wh-Who’s there?” he asked weakly after mustering up the courage. The man believed the voice he was talking to was more powerful than anything he had ever known before, and that scared him. His body trembled like a Chihuahua.

  The fire split itself into seven different flames of equal size and immensity. The flames seemed to chant in a low voice: “Holy, holy, holy, Lord Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come.”

  The man was not a religious person, yet he still knew that phrase. He had studied intently the book of Revelation for it had interested him; not for religious reasons. That was a phrase he always thought beautiful… though he knew an important word was missing: God. If the flames are not speaking of God, than of whom are they speaking? The man thought, horrified.

  “I am a Lord, and that is who I am. You will do as I say, for I have saved you,” the voice boomed again. After the cacophony of echoes ended, it added, “I request that you build me a village. I will lead you there and a child will help you. When the village is complete, baptize seven virgins in the lake of fire and I shall come upon your world. You will be fat with riches and the world shall be yours. Give me what I want and I will give you what you want.” With that, that Lord ended his demand.

  A switch appeared to have flipped. Typically, he would try to run away, but the man knew he had to do what the Lord told him. The reward is too precious to resist. He never found himself as a religious person, so he did not feel morally wrong for the act he knew he would commit.

  The seven flames whirled quicker and quicker until they spun themselves out of existence. He felt two hands grab his shoulder and pull him upward. He could feel the weird dark substance again. In an instant, he was back in the river; this time, however, he felt no pain. As he was surfacing, he peeked to the bottom and just saw pitch blackness.

  His body was thrown from the water and landed softly on dead grass. The young man held his hands out in front of him and saw that his skin was good as normal. He felt his face and checked his legs; both were perfectly fine. All that was missing was the backpack. Now he was somewhere in the woods, by the river.

  The man gathered his surroundings. He currently was sanding in dead woods. The river next to him curved and led off somewhere out of sight. With a new mind, he knew this was where the Lord he spoke with wanted him to make the village. In his new mind, a
fire furthered his determination. ‘A child will help you’ the man remembered the Lord telling him, but where was the child?

  He turned and walked deeper into the dead woods. He passed the bones of a small creature. The sun shone through the dusty air.

  The man heard a twig break and followed the sound. The smell of something dead met his nose. After scrunching his face together, he walked in the direction of the smell.

  The new sound, which was of something eating something sloppily, got louder with each step. In the distance, he saw something ahead. He made his way towards it, sneaking behind trees. When he was close enough, he peeked around a tree.

  The day before, the man would have screamed or puked. The sight he saw would have made his stomach churn like butter. The man who was interested in the book of Revelation, video games, hiking, and reading would have run away. That was not the man anymore. Now, he was a valiant, determined man on a mission. He had a desire to fulfill his religious duty to his Lord, and nothing could stop that.

  On the other side of the tree, there was a large goat lying on its side, dead. A bare child, that appeared to be the age of nine or ten, was on his knees next to the goat, covered in blood. In his hand was a piece of the goat’s flesh; he ate it. When he was done, he leaned over the dead goat. The boy’s arms were on the goat as he stuck his head into the side of the goat. The slobbery sound of blood gushing and the smacking of the child was unpleasant. When he came up from the goat, he turned and looked at the man.

  He took a step towards the child, who then backed away from the goat. Blood had clotted all over his body and was dripping from his mouth.

  Kneeling, the man said in a calm voice, “It’s alright. Come here.” He held his hand out as if holding a treat to a wild dog.

  The child was crouched on his legs, leaning over so his arms were touching the ground. His back was arched and his spine was outlined. On all fours, the boy walked towards the man. He moved like a wild animal, and that didn’t startle the man. The day before it would have startled him, but not today. He stayed in the kneeling position as the child got near him. He sniffed the man’s hand, and then, when he realized there was nothing in it, stood up on his back legs. The boy’s skinny body had an abnormally fat stomach, and his back was arched forward uncomfortably. The man stood, too, with the wild boy in front of him, who was shorter.

  The boy stayed standing there in all of his bare glory. He tried to snarl like a wolf, but it just looked like an awkward smile. The man closed his eyes. Take him to the river, a voice said. It wasn’t his own, but his Lord’s. When he opened his eyes, the boy had taken a step backwards.

  In a flash, the man struck out his hands and grabbed the boy. He wrapped one arm around the boy’s neck and the other around his body. The child screamed an inhuman scream. The man quickly walked back to the river as the boy kicked and tried to claw his way free.

  The man got to the edge of the water and the boy was still kicking and screaming. With a grunt, the man tossed the boy into the river. When the boy’s body neared the water’s surface, two hands stuck out and grabbed the boy by the arms. The hands yanked the boy underwater and they were gone. Silence now echoed throughout the dead woods. The man just stood there and waited.

  Blood from the boy now stained the man’s shirt, so he took it off and threw it on the ground. He gathered some sticks and tossed them onto the shirt. This would be where he could start a fire for the night, which would be there soon.

  The man dragged a fallen log next to the fire to sit on. He sat there for about five minutes, staring at the fire pile in front of him. He knew nothing about starting a fire so that could be a problem.

  A splash sounded and when the man looked to see what it was, he saw the boy lying on the riverbank. He was breathing like he was out of breath. The man picked him up and brought him next to the fire. The sky was turning shades of violet and deeper blue. Stars were starting to reveal themselves. The man decided that he would try and sleep. But first, he had to make sure the boy wouldn’t run away.

  In the dying hours of the light, the man searched for and found a vine. He dragged the boy’s bare body to the nearest tree. Too weak to fight back, the boy just lied there as the man tied his arms together, and then tied the vine around the tree. As the man walked back to the log, he saw there was a small flame at the center of the pile. How it had started, he didn’t know, but he was glad it did.

  The man sat on the log and watched in awe as the fire got brighter and brighter. The sun was now fully gone and the moon was in its domain. The child was sleeping on his stomach, his hands still tied.

  When the fire was at its greatest, the man decided he was going to lie down. After finding a place that looked comfortable, he laid himself down and slept.

  In his sleep, the man dreamed of seven flames. “Holy, holy, holy, Lord Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come,” the flames chanted. The presence of another being was felt.

  “Be fruitful and multiply,” the voice demanded. Its booming voice echoed everywhere and faded. The flames swirled themselves out of existence and the man woke up.

  The sleeping child rested next to the tree. Now, he had on a wrap that covered his lower region. From where it came, the man did not know; he thought it was probably the same being that made the flame in the previous night.

  The man got up and saw the flame was still raging, yet a little calmer. His shirt was folded neatly, and when he picked it up, the man saw that it was completely clean; he put it back on.

  Sitting on the log, the man slowly came back to complete consciousness. “Be fruitful and multiply,” he was told. But how?

  The answer to his question broke a twig and stirred the child. The man looked behind him and saw a woman walking towards him. Her glistening body let him know that she came from the water. At first, her body was uncovered, yet with each step, clothes seemed to appear from nowhere. After a few steps, she was adorned in a robe that strapped around one shoulder and covered the rest of her body, like the type you see in Grecian paintings. Her skin was ivory and her hair was an auburn river; emeralds were her eyes.

  The lady walked to the boy, who was then waking up, and kneeled next to him. When her hand neared the vine that bind him, it snapped. Quickly the boy curled into a ball and massaged his wrists.

  The lady stared deep into the boy’s eyes, and a newfound tranquility was about him. The boy stood up and he had no slouch. He held his hands beside him like a proper human. The woman, too, stood and stared at the man. “The wild has left the child,” she said in a voice of velvet elegance.

  The man nodded. “That is good. He has much potential.” He didn’t ask why or how the woman got there; he knew why she was there and she knew why she was.

  “He wants you to build him a village, doesn’t he?” the woman asked. “The Lord, I mean.”

  “Yes, but I am not sure how. Trees are everywhere; the village would be horribly small.”

  “Burn it,” she instantly responded.

  He knew what she meant. The three of them had a purpose and were all tied together. They all knew they must fulfill their purpose, and they understood what they all said.

  “Boy, fetch some water,” the man demanded.

  The boy, like a robot, walked to the river. The water surface bubbled and a wooden bucket breached the surface. It floated to the boy, who picked it. When it was full, he returned to the man and woman, who stood in awkward silence.

  “Here seems good,” the man said, motioning to an area to his left.

  The boy went to the area and tossed the water on the ground. Instantly, it caught on fire and spread amongst the area. The already-dead trees caught aflame and in minutes, their trunks trembled and collapsed to dust. Dead grass became smoky dust, as did dead bushes.

  The flames had eaten around twenty trees when it stopped spreading. Instead of climbing upwards, it now gravitated to a central region. The flames then flew upward and disappeared into the air. Dust and burnt spots were the only evid
ence of a fire, and now they were left with an open area to build a village.

  “Boy, get to work,” the man demanded again.

  Like an obedient dog, the boy did as his master said. He went into the woods and gather logs and twigs of the sort. As he did so, the man and the woman walked away. While the boy did the slave labor, the man made the woman fruitful, and soon she would supply the village.

  The boy dragged logs into 10 equal squares in the plot, five on the right side and five on the left. Each plot was to become a house. In the center of the area of the village, there would be a round area which would become the fire pit.

  By the time the man and woman had returned, the boy was working on building the foundation of the houses. By the end of the night he would finish them. Sloppily built, they would still be what was necessary for the Lord.

  Jane through her evidence in the trash can and covered it with a piece of toilet paper. She flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and stood at the door. Her heartbeat was quickening and she took a deep breath in attempts to calm herself. She then opened the door.

  The window on the wall opposite the bathroom door was bright with the morning sun. Noah was in bed still, covering his eyes from the light. She walked over to him and nudged him. “Wake up,” she whispered.

  He grunted in complaints, but he eventually rolled out of bed. He went into the bathroom and Jane went to kitchen. She prayed he didn’t see it.

  In the kitchen was a picture of Jane and Noah. She was wrapped in his arms as they stood on a beach dune. The sky behind them was a pastel blue and pink, and the water that met the sky was a darker shade of blue with reflections of the pastel sky in it. That was where Noah had proposed to Jane two months earlier. A pit filled her stomach as she looked at that picture.

  Noah walked in and saw Jane facing the oven. She was scrambling eggs. He heard her sniffle, but just thought it as allergies. She picked up the frying pan and scraped the scrambled eggs on to two different paper plates. He saw her eyes were watery. She jumped at seeing him.