Hanged Man's Tree
Her vision slowly inched ever closer to the warm flicker yonder. It felt like an eternity, her eyes lurching, she struggled to grasp her surroundings to no avail. The shadows crept in the corner of her vision, twisting above and beneath, clawing at the candle’s sputter. There were questions her mind shrieked in anguish and the lack of answers made her thoughts all the more treacherous, all the more maddening.
“Awake at last.” She had heard that voice once before, it sounded familiar yet muddled—an unnatural tone about it.
She writhed under the constraint of an indiscernible heaviness, gasping for a breath that escaped her inexplicably. The shadows wavered, shaping the grizzly silhouette of a ghoul that seemed to bellow a frightful emptiness, a kind of dread she had yet to understand. Its eyes were gaping maws of soul rending anguish that dangled vividly on its wretched, gaunt visage. It wormed its way closer, feeding on her helpless desperation, it expelled a terrifying presence that overwhelmed her altogether. There was no resistance left in her, only terrified submission.
“In a day’s time…” It rasped, a voice so bizarre it chilled her to the bone. “The thirst will find you…” it leaned in closer now, so close she could breathe its putrid flesh as the shadows encircled her, devouring her last hint of warmth.
“Seek me out where the dead sway so fickle in the wind lest you join them in their sleep…” The voice sounded distant somehow and as she felt herself slip slowly out of consciousness the shadows gave way to a hideous travesty - a weave of indiscernible pain, a cacophony of hopeless fear entwined with a deafening silence.
She awoke midst a sea of lurching corpses squirming in the wind—their braying long ago snuffed out by the tyranny of a thick rope. They dangled spasmodically from the ancient branches of a great oak which seemed indifferent at the weight it so callously supported. She quickly realized the futility of her efforts and peered beneath the tree’s balding crown at a small campfire - its flame devouring the blackness that was gradually engulfing the surrounding scenery. She felt compelled to approach the fire, the thirst growing all the more urgent.
“At long last…” That voice, once more, seemed familiar, but its nature less ghoulish than she recalled.
“The thirst has struck you—compelled you to meet me here.” A fearful stirring at the edge of the moonlight betrayed the silhouette of the strange man she had seen the other night—a striking resemblance in features with the ghoul from her nightmare. She knew then that it had been no fantasy at all, but malign inspiration of a mind befuddled by demonic possession.
Author's note: This is based on my previous work which I have cut and revised to better contextualize in the Universe I'm trying to pen. This is an ongoing project with future releases planned as soon as I can get to writing them.
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