From Without to Within

The deep temperate jungle of Akropolia has never been tamed. Twisted, flocculent vines fill the canopy blending perfectly with their hosts. Fruit hangs as a temptation to any passer, but is surrounded by lethal defenses, and the fruit that is offered freely are their own defense. The paths, if they can be called paths, are the narrow passages between giant ferns and are riddled with the root and rock that jut out from the ground. No sunlight can be seen once within those depths, yet the vegetation still flourishes.

The creatures who live within the depths remain a mystery to the outside world. Those who have ventured in have told tales of hidden threats, malignant cries, and low, ominous voices whose direction cannot be discerned. Regiminian lore tells of tiny creatures making their way out of the darkness to steal sleeping babies from their cribs. Many dismiss this tale as the fancies of grieving parents, but, as much as people deny these myths, all parents, every single one, spend sleepless nights on guard over their infants. Coupled with the fatigue of new parenthood, the efforts are largely in vain.

Our village sat on the edge of this jungle.

It was the end of a long hot day. The only rival to the deafening sound of the crickets was the incessant croaks of the tree frogs. The smell of the freshly cut trees was still lingering in the stuffy air. Work that day and been exhausting, but new fields were needed to be made for our livestock to graze. The trees were all that needed to be cleared, as the ferns and vines were a tasty treat to our cattle, so that saved us a little bit of labor.

I had an odd sense that I was not alone as I gathered my tools. The last few longs would have to sit overnight, as I did not have the time or energy to cut them down to size. They’ll be fine, I justified to myself. After all, it’s just one night. It’s not like they’ll rot.

Then I felt something that I had never felt before: a gust of wind blew out from the jungle. For as long as I had lived in the area, no breeze had ever blown from any direction, let alone from the dark, dense jungle. I tried to put it out of my mind, and left for my hut.

My wife cradled her pregnant belly after having set the table. “Vivekos, come! He’s rolling! I think he’ll come any day now.”

Her sweet and loving eyes exuded a soft glow as a warm smile decorated her delicate face. She meant the world to me, and my heart melted with every smile. Her gravitational pull upon my affection was strongest in such moments, and no attempt at resistance was ever made on my part.

My hands glided over her skin, feeling the tiny feet pressing outward from her womb. Kneeling down, I kissed her belly as her hand made its way to the side of my face. Standing now, I kissed her on the lips before pulling away to help carry the stewed goat meat to the table.

The evening stretched on in a carefree manner, but something remained hidden yet still perceived nonetheless. At times, my gaze drifted out the window and towards the dark void of the jungle. Each time that it did, Mehani would pull my attention back to her and the talks about how we will prepare for the arrival of our son.

She was sure it was to be a son, though there was no way of really knowing. Mehani had always trusted in the traditions that had been handing down to her. If the sex of the child was guessed by hours of movements. Old wives told spun threads of wisdom regarding each location of the sun and stars, and how they affected the development of the baby. Mehani knew, with all certainty, that our son would be “brave and strong just like his father.”

I had my doubts, though. My family had long held that such things were only known to the gods, and we humans were not granted that knowledge. Though I, like many Regiminians of my generation, did not practice any customs or rituals of our religion, I was one of the few who did not succumb to superstitions. I found them silly, but I was wrong.

–

Day after day I toiled. Chopping trees, clearing logs, and guiding our livestock to clean up what was left behind. Sweat poured from me as fast and hard as the wet season’s rain, and lent as a reminder to me that the first storm was fast approaching.

The soil under the trees grew darker, and more red, as though the trees’ roots were were bleeding from an arterial cut. With each step deeper into the jungle, the ground softened and became more viscous. Troubled at this, I resolved to find ways to drain the soil, but, I had thought, first I needed to reach the marker to which I had meant to clear.

My mind started playing tricks on me. I saw shadows fading into the mist that filled my little clearing. Just as these shadows appeared to draw close, another mysterious gust would disperse the fog. I was troubled by the regularity at which these gusts now came, but was thankful that they dispelled these troubling hallucinations that haunted my every move.

–

Rain came. It was not yet the downpours we experience at the height of the wet season, but just a foretaste of what was to come. Mehani insisted that it was too muddy for me to continue, and to, instead, focus on speading the grass into the new clearing. My stubbornness got the better of me, and I would not listen. Though, it was more than stubbornness. I felt an odd pull towards the jungle. It filled me with both terror and intrigue, such as cannot be shaken.

“Mehani, if I stop now, I fear that I will not pick it back up again until the jungle has reclaimed its territory. I must clear first, then sow.”

“Do as you wish, but don’t you dare track any more of that jungle soil into my house. I went through the full litany of cleaning methods to get it out, and some still remains,” she replied hotily.

I could not blame her. The soil possessed a strange characteristic that reminded me both of blood and glue simultaneously. Not only was its texture repulsive, but it almost seemed to spread. I cannot say for sure that this observation was based on reality, especially given the other hallucinations from which I had been suffering, but the soil itself appeared to have a pulse, and with each beat, it appeared to enlarge upon itself.

I put this aside, however. But I did correct one behavior, I took even more precaution for the soil to not touch any exposed skin. My returning routine now involved me stripping down to my undergarments prior to even stepping on the threshold of our hut, but another thing troubled me. The soil of our footpath, too, was turning a dark crimson with each passing day.

–

Not even the start of the wet season, or the lateness of her pregnancy, could prevent Mehani from making her weekly trek to the marketplace of our little hamlet. One thing did change, though. That change was that she now took our donkey and cart to spare herself of unnecessary exertion. Another bonus was that it gave her an opportunity to visit with her brother.

“Ah, I see you have decided to steal my hay again, Mehani,” jabbed Dehvos.

“Just because the hay is in your stable does not make it yours,” Mehani retorted.

“Whose labor brought this hay to the stable? Whose labor spread it out in the troughs? Whose labor shovels the… spent hay… from the stables after your donkey departs?”

“Whose copper pays your fees? Whose copper paid for the weatherproofing of this stable? Answer me that, then I will answer your silly questions. Now come, give your big sister a proper greeting or I will be forced to collect on your debts.” With that, the siblings laughed and hugged as though it had been months since their last visit.

“Making your usual rounds, and spending more of your husband’s hard earned money?”

“Our hard earned money, mind you. I am the one who delivers the fattened livestock to the butchers.”

“Haha, forgive me. I forget how hard it is to guide animals by the reins from such a long long journey. One that takes a matter of minutes.”

“Just because the journey is short, does not mean that it’s not hard,” she replied while exaggerating with haughty movements.

“Very well, very well. When did the midwife say that you were due? I assume that it will be any day now.”

“She told me that she will move into our spare room when she believes it will be less than a week. In the meantime, it has caused me to clean that room endlessly not wanting to leave a speck of dust upon the shelves when she arrives.” At that, a strong sensation filled Mehani, and she grew concerned. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Sit. Here’s a stool. I will go fetch the midwife. Stay here. Don’t move,” and with that, Dehvos ran out of the stables into the street. He hid his panic as best as any man is able when his beloved sister is in distress.

–

I returned to an empty house that evening. No fire was set in the hearth. No sign of any food having been prepared. An unsettling stillness hung in the air, but I was not alone.

An inaudible voice seemed to rise like the smoke of shallow flames. I grabbed my knife that hung at my waist, and spun round eyeing every corner of the room. With footsteps as soft as I could muster, I tiptoed throughout our small three room hut. I had not noticed anything out of the usual, that is, until my eyes drifted down.

A small patch of jungle soil pulsated on my knee. My hand moved to wipe it off, but before my fingers could make contact, it melted into my skin. Horrified, I grabbed my knee. It slowly became the same color as the soil it had absorbed. I stuck my knife into the spot at which I had last seen the soil in an effort to drain my body from this corruption.

There was no blood. There was no soil. My skin took the knife in the same way as a wet patch of mud, and released the blade just as smoothly, closing behind the exiting blade.

A panic struck my soul. I had never witnessed such a thing in my life.

A laugh echoed, but not within the walls of our hut, but within the confines of my mind. There was no direction from which the laugh came, for it was within me. So startled, I succumbed to shock, and lost consciousness.

–

News had spread throughout the hamlet. The baby boy had been born, but Mehani had nearly died. Only through the quick thinking of Dehvos had her tearing been stitched. He had never done such a thing on a human before, but his skills had been well tested on the many livestock that he had helped birth.

No oddities were found for the child, but many found it queer that I had not rushed to find my wife. When Mehani and Dehvos arrived back at our hut, Dehvos could not even look me in the eye. He had lost all respect for me, especially having found me sitting at the table eating a loaf of stale bread.

“I’ll be heading home now, Mehani. If you need anything… anything at all… do not hesitate to come. I will be checking in on you every day this week. Mom would be so proud of how strong you are.” After his tender words to his sister, an almost indiscernible look of distrust was made in my general direction.

“Thank the gods you are home!” I cried while rushing to her and our newborn son. “The strangest thing happened to me...”

“Not now. I do not need your excuses. Zandros is hungry and tired from the journey. You’ll need to cook for me and take care of everything else around the house. I have taken liberty to send word to your mother about our need for help, but I fear that it will be at least two days before she arrives.”

“Yes, yes. I will take of everything,” I said with utmost sincerity, but my words fell to the floor in the same manner that Mehani’s respect towards me had fallen.

–

There were times that I was not conscious, yet moved freely. I awoke many times just outside the border of the jungle not knowing how I had gotten there. I was caked in mud that would absorb quickly into my skin. With each day, the blackouts grew longer and longer. Perhaps I had blackouts for more than a week at a time, and I do not have any recollection of what had happened.

The arrival of my mother was met with delay after delay. The wet season had washed out the bridges that lay between her hamlet and our own. There was no safe passage that could be taken, and as such, we were alone.

Over time, I had began to lose my ability to speak. The words that came out of my mouth, if any at all, were not uttered by me. They were from some strange foreign entity that was slowly taking over my very existence.

–

I awoke at the edge of the jungle with Zandros in my arms. Puzzled, I stared blankly at my son wrapped in the fleece of a young kid. When I looked up, I did not comprehend what I beheld.

It was many small creatures, all made of the soil, encircling me. The last thing that I remember were the words that echoed throughout my entire being.

“For his life, we will spare yours. You have encroached upon our land. You have stolen from our wealth. You have drawn blood from our body. We only ask for him as recompense. Now go, and never step past this threshold ever again.”

It was not the creatures who stole the children from their cribs. No, it was the fathers who freely gave their children out of fear. No one believed my words, and I am lost. I died on that day, though my heart still beats and my lungs draw breath.