Michael and Manson
Michael stared almost hypnotically into the whirlpool of shadows that was the entrance to the ironically named sunlight falls woods. "Ha," Michael thought to his self, from what he could see no sunlight fell on this ancient forest floor. He stepped back, a little intimidated. The entrance itself seemed to be leering back at him. The huge oval entrance was more like a big black staring eye watching and waiting for the small kid in front of it to enter its deadly depths. Michael stood there his mind going a mile a minute. Filling his head full of ghost stories and urban legends that surrounded this mysterious forest. He continued to stand there, his lost dogs chain gripped firmly in one shivering hand and his other hand clenched into a shaking fist. He took a gulp of the cold forest air that was being blown into his frightened face from the darkness and called desperately for his dog,
“Manson!” his voice breaking on the second syllable in fright. He heard the call echo through the prehistoric trees and back to the field which he now stood on scared senseless. His skin was covered in Goosebumps, his heart beat in his throat like tribal drums. He felt like running, but his legs were struggling to keep him standing upright. The only thing the only thought that was keeping hold of his nerves at the moment was his dog, his "lovely" dog, his damn stupid mutt which had ran into these forest shadows leaving Michael to make a damn stupid heroic rescue.
It was ten o'clock, Monday morning, Michael was taking Manson for a walk because he had drawn the smallest straw from all of his brothers. He had let the dog off the leash at 36th street. The dog, who he had never really gotten on with in the short time his family had bought it, had bounded over the road and slipped through a fence gap into a local farmers field. Michael giving chase sprinted after him and attempted a leap over the fence, only to catch his leg on the barbed wire, tearing his right trouser leg at the seam as he crashed into the sludgy mud below. He followed the dogs paw prints in the mud which led to the entrance and here he was. Out of breath, his heartbeat thumping, shivering as the cold forest air blew through the tear in his trousers and crept coldly up his leg. Clothes and face caked with mud. Not quite sure of the way back home and scared, not much scared as frightened. Frightened to the point where his pale skin stood stiffly on end as he trembled terrified in front of what his eight year old mind considered the abyss, the entrance to the unknown, the black hole of his childhood, the entrance to which his older brother Phillip had named “The Grim wood.”
“A kid entered that place before Mikey.” his brother Phillips voice said sliding into Michaels head, “they found enough of the poor boy’s hand to identify him.”
“I heard an old man lives at the very heart of the forest,” his other brother had whispered to him one night before bed, “apparently he likes to watch ya and just before ya walk out of the forest he grabs ya and drags ya kicking and screaming back to his shack.”
“What does he do then?” asked Michael with all the curiosity you would expect from an eight year old. But his brother never told him.
He pushed the memories way back into his head. He took a deep gulp of fresh morning air and he walked into the woods.
The ground was damp and his shoes sunk into the sludgy mud as he trod silently on. He could feel the whistling wind that rattled through the leaves of the tall trees, they sounded like whispers. He trudged on and soon the entrance was too far, if he was being chased, he wouldn't make it out in time. Shrugging this thought off, he pressed on through the black. Seams of light dimly lit the misty forest floor so that Michael could scarcely see where he stepped. The rip in his trousers getting wider as he climbed over fallen trees and hidden stumps, his heart beating faster as the darkness became thicker as he entered deeper into the forest.
“Hate that forest!” his dad had said to him once when they walked past it, “got lost in it as a young lad before.”
“How’d you get out?”
“ I was lucky.” his father had sighed, remembering a time long past.
“Has anyone ever got lost in there and never come back out and maybe died dad?”
“Maybe!” his dad pondered peering over at the aged trees, “Just maybe.”
“OWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Michaels skin felt like it leapt off the bones as Manson's bark bounded through the blackness. Michael broke out in an uncomfortably cold sweat. The hairs on the nape of his shivering neck stood stiffly out on end. He wanted to scream but the words could not escape his quivering lips. Wanted to run but his legs had melted like ice. He thought it was his dog. But what if it wasn’t. What if it was a wolf, he was sure he had heard of lone wolves roaming around looking for fresh meat, there was no reason why there may not indeed be one here in this very forest. A worse thought; what if it was “The shack man” trying to lure him towards a false siren and then torture him for reasons unbeknownst to him or any sane person. These disturbing thoughts were starting to rest and solidify in his mind. For each second he stood there rooted to the spot the call seemed to sound less and less like Manson.
“OWOOOOOOOOO!!!!” another bark vibrated through the chilled air and a thought burst into Michaels head. What would his brothers say exactly if he just fled home saying he had lost the dog because he had soiled his self walking through the woods. What would his friends say when he told them he had been a pansy and left his dog to die in some dingy forest. Worst of all what would his dad not say but what would he think when he told him that he had ran away from fear, that would be the worst.
“No.” he said to his self as a seam of light broke through the canopy above casting his shadow on the forest floor. “I am not a coward.”
“OWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” The life flew back into Michaels body and he furiously sprinted with a burst of speed towards the direction of his dogs desperate cry. He exploded through branches, brambles and thorns without a single care or thought. The adrenaline was rushing through him like a forest fire and made each scrape, scratch and thud seem like nothing. He was strong. He was tough. He was damn near indestructible.
“OWOOOOOOOO!” the sound getting continually closer as he steamed through the overgrowth. Then something stringy caught his ankle. Time slowed as he fell slowly through the gnat studded air and he watched helplessly as his face smashed painfully into a sneaky tree stump. He felt his nose crack as pain buzzed through his head and his vision blurred. A pale sheet of sick yellow spots covered the air. He was about to pass out when something wet splashed onto his face and slid up over the bridge of his broken nose. He reached out and touched its soft fur. The object, whatever it may be was shivering violently and it let out a soft but scared yelp. It was his dog! He had never felt so relieved in his life, he could now get out of here.
“Oh boy come her….”
“OWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Michael gulped. There was no way that sound was coming from his dog. He stared towards the howl but his vision was blurred. The spots covering the air. Running blood and sharp pain forcing him into blindness. Then the ultimate terror. He could hear in the distance a running drum of feet stampeding through the black sheet that had fell on this covered section of the woods. Some sort of horrid creature breaking through the trees. He was doomed.
He gave up. Michael lay exhausted on the floor waiting for whatever death was destined for him. But something happened. It was like some sort of fairy tale dream. As he closed his eyes a figure dressed in silken silver stood aside him. A beautiful figure, long blonde hair sweeping down onto her shoulders. She put her soft hand out to him, he grabbed it and was lifted up.
He opened his eyes and she quickly disappeared. Yellow spots still clouded his eyesight and the distant beat of charging feet still rushed faster and faster towards him.
He closed his eyes again. There she was. Gliding along the pitch-black floor, her white dress illuminated in the darkness. Black tears streaked slowly down from her watery eyes. He felt his dog pulling him towards her and away from the unstoppable monster tearing a path of destruction through the overgrowth to get to him, he chased after her. Rushing through the rustling trees he heard her whisper over the din of beating feet.
“I love you.” her words were faded, soft yet powerful all in one and something else, deja vu. Where had he heard the voice before. He glanced at the crystals in her curly blond hair. it smelt of strawberries. The thought was sudden, how could he know something like that. How?
He followed her and soon the rumble of the unknown animal became a distant echo in his mind. He stole a look at her eyes. A faintish shade of light brown. She winked seductively and disappeared. not again.
He continued to run even though he was lost without her and surely enough he soon slammed into the nearest tree and crashed to the ground in a heap of pain. He heard Manson stop and yelp. He could hear the thunder of footsteps once more.
“Run!” he whispered to his dog. “RUN!” but Manson did not scamper, he sat by Michael petrified. Waiting for “The shack man” to come. And as he heard the monster enter into what ever forest clearing in which he lay, Michael drifted slowly off into another world.
Awoken by a stiff slap to the cheek. Michael opened his eyes to see a whispering crowd of people gathered in an observing circle around him. His head was pounding but his vision had cleared. He noticed with a glance that these people were not wearing normal modern clothing. The women wore long dresses, the men tuxedos and both sexes had their faces covered with pink and blue opera masks. The word weird sprang straight into his mind.
“Hey are you alright love?” said a smooth voice over the murmurs.
He looked up and there she was. The beautiful lady from the forest, wearing the same dress as she wore while luring Michael into this strange place. But there was something different. He was helped up by a few men in the crowd. Stumbling forward he stared into a wide mirror, covering half of what was a large ebony floored ballroom with many chandeliers hanging from the high windowed ceiling. The nights stars and full moon shone straight through onto the ballroom floor. Looking into that mirror he was dumbstruck by what he saw. He was no longer Michael that was for sure. Like every other man in the ballroom he sported a black suit and wore a blue opera mask across his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” asked the white lady. “Looks like you just seen a ghost.”
“Where am I?”
“Looks like that lil fall did more damage than I thought.” She pushed herself up against him and kissed him on the cheek. He blinked. The kiss was soft, warm, tender and natural. She stroked his hair and sighed, he turned towards her face. Her smile shined as bright as the moonlight casting dark shadows on the castle floor. Castle? He thought. How did he know that. She kissed him again.
“C’mon Manson!” she giggled, “Don’t tell me you’ve lost your mind. You remember me don’t you?” Her brown eyes fluttered as she spoke.
“Of course I do.” he smiled , “just trying to scare you.”
“Floria!” he thought to himself. That was her name. Her beautiful name and as he stared into her sparkling eyes surrounded by the pink opera mask, he realised what was different about her. She was alive. He began to dance with her and soon he forgot all about the little dream he had had about the forest ,the scared boy, the lost dog and was once more dancing with his sweetheart to the violins and pianos playing somewhere in the shadows around them.
“Manson?” she queried, “do you love me?” Her voice was quiet and sad.
“Of course.” he answered, “How could I not love a creature so fair as you.”
“Will you love me forever?”
“I would and will my dear.” On hearing this fresh tears sprang into her eyes. He hugged her closer. Smelling her blonde hair which smelt of fresh strawberries. “And tomorrow when we announce our love to the world we will set a date to be wed.” she continued to cry. “C’mon. Dry those tears. Surely marrying me is not half as bad as what you think my dear?” he laughed heartily. But she continued to sob silently into his shoulder. He looked around to check that no one in the dimly moonlit ballroom could see her. The room was dark and he could barely make out the other dancers themselves.
She stepped back from him and gazed upward at the starlight, Manson cleared the black tears streaking down over her cheeks with the wipe of his fingers. “Hey come on now.” he whispered a little apprehensively. She wasn’t usually this quiet and so reserved. “What’s the matter you surely can tell the man your going to marry can’t you?”
She gave out a last sniffle, came up close to the side of his face and whispered softly in a broken voice, “Come with me!” she clutched his hand leading him off the dance floor through the large mahogany entrance door and down a candle lit corridor filled with portraits of past kings and queens resting still on their painted thrones. There were angel statues placed on the brick ceiling watching over the hallway. Through the windows he could gaze out over the fields of the beautiful castle grounds and gardens. She took him into one of the side doors and locked it.
She went over to a cabinet mirror and started to dry her tears and makeup. He stood still watching her. She got up, glanced briefly into Manson’s eyes and sat down on the four poster bed placing her head in her arms. He tip toed across the wide room and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.
“I’ve been chosen.” she sighed, collapsing backwards onto the soft covers, staring dreamily into space. “I’m entering the forbidden wood tonight.”
Manson looked at her unbelievably and felt a slight tear in his heart. He rose from the bed and walked transfixed across the room and stared out of the bedside window. She called after him but no words could reach him. He walked like a dead man. Looking out the window he could see the woods from the castle chambers. The moon and clouds galloping over it, casting light on its dark interior. Owls watched and glided above its titanic trees. Wolves hunted on its misty floor, searching for weaker prey to devour and consume. The prey themselves sprinted occasionally out of their hiding holes dancing a much more dangerous dance than they imagined. But there was something else in that woods. He knew. Something that the owls dared to see, that the wolves dared to stalk and that the humans dared to hunt. No creature had ever come across its path, (none alive that is) and no man had ever seen it and lived to tell the tale (whoever says they have is a damn liar). But it’s presence could be felt, like the heat of the sun each man, women and creature were affected by its spirit and each feared and avoided it. Its legend is well known across the land and evil is it’s nature.
“We will run!” he sighed.
“What?”
He span on his heels and leaped over onto the floor beside her. “We will run darling we shall run and leave this curse behind.”
“I have to enter.” she whimpered. “I have no choice.”
“No!” he laughed madly standing up. “No! We will leave tonight and head for England, the king will never find us we will marry and live free we….”
“I have to go.” she cut across him. “It is my duty.”
“No. No! I will not lose you Floria. I will not be able to live with myself if I do not have you in my arms day and night, night and day you understand me. Never!”
“I don’t want to die it is not my choice and not yours you understand I am dying for the kingdom. For my king.”
“NO!” he shouted into her face, his voice bouncing off the stone walls. She sat back, her mouth hung open in shock. He gazed angrily into her brown eyes and all of her natural sparks were taken away she looked neither seductive or sexy, she was simply scared. He collapsed onto the floor and started to cry, something he hadn‘t been able to do since the death of his mother. “It never works.” he wept, “the creature returns every two hundred years. Haven’t you read the history books? Heard the legends? It can not and will not die.”
She sat down on the floor and this time put a comforting arm around him. “Do you love me?” she asked sombrely.
“Always will.” he replied.
“Then we will.” she said. She stood up and stepped over to a small cabinet. Opening one of the drawers she pulled out a container filled to the brim with a dark blue liquid. She kneeled down and untightening his fingers she placed the potion in his hand. "Drink this as the clock strikes midnight." she nodded.
"What is it?"
She silenced him with one finger and nodded. He nodded back. She gave him one last kiss, got up and walked out of the door.
He sat there for a moment staring long and hard at the door. Hoping to see her once more enter back through and tell him everything was a lie a simple lie. But none the less, lady luck didn't call on him tonight. He walked over to the cabinet and in a fit of rage, thrust everything off with both hands. Shards of glass littered on the ground. He glanced at his reflection. Behind his distraught image he could clearly see the swing of the pendulum on the bedroom clock. Suddenly he heard voices shuffling their way up the corridor.
"Were they coming here?" He thought aloud. They must have heard the smash. Grabbing the cabinet chair he scurried to the door and placed it under the handle. He was trapped now. He would wait for the clock to strike midnight. He heard the crowd stop at his door and attempt to enter. "One minute to midnight." he muttered, "Surely I can make it."
They knocked the door. "Hey! Is anyone in there! We heard a crash!"
"Surely there has to be. Knock the door down I bet the poor lads been beaten round the head with something!"
"We're coming in! Hold on!" he heard the door vibrate as a large gentlemen crashed shoulder first into it.
"Thirty seconds."
The door crashed again. This time the wood splintering. It wasn't long now though they wouldn't make it in time. He gulped the strange blue elixir down and threw the container at the door. This caused alarm outside and halted them for a moment before they attempted even harder to break in. He rested on the bed, closing his eyes he drowned out the bashing of the door and listened to the continuing tick of the clock. Ten seconds and it would strike midnight. He could feel himself floating away.
He heard the chair crumble and the door slam to the ground as the mob burst through. Five seconds now.
"Oh my god!" a lady screamed pointing at Manson.
"He's been poisoned!" another man shouted and at this Manson heard the distant courtyard bell strike twelve. Midnight. He drifted away.
Michael awoke with a frightened start. The chilling air biting and nibbling at his skin. The trees swayed back and forth in the invisible wind. He rolled over and saw his dog Manson frozen solid laying dead on the ground. Michaels stomach churned. He sat up and looked around. How long had he been out he wondered. He listened for the sound of stampeding feet. Silence. He rose from the dirt and checked the surroundings out for any sort of unfamiliar sight or figure. All was clear now he had only to track his way out. He knelt down by his dog took off his warm jacket unclothing his naked arms to the merciless wind and placed it comfortingly over Manson.
"Rest in peace Manson." he muttered, "I wish I could have saved you or even buried you properly but something tells me I need to get out of this place fast, something evils lurking here." he paused and took a momentary glimpse around. The clearing sent chills down Michaels shivering spine, the wavering trees held a surreal ghostly presence and the air blowing through was like that of a cold morning breeze in an ancient cemetery. He could only imagine what his dad and brothers would say when he got home but he didn't care anymore, all that mattered now was getting in his bed tonight alive. He left the clearing and ventured daringly into the dark forest depths once again. The remains of the dream were still fresh in his mind and he managed to forget them for now. He skulked through the trees and hoped to be going the right way out. He imagined he must have trekked through miles of bark and growth, each step pushing the dream a little bit further out of his mindset and when he at last finally saw the sunlit exit in the distance it had slipped away from him like all nightmares eventually do. He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped toward it, the air started to warm up and the light almost blinded his eyes. He got closer and saw the distant town over the field , he was home he thought to his self, home at las........
His heartbeat skipped. He was thrown around and the teeth of some unimaginable monster blazed black at him before they were sunk deep into his neck. He passed out as a sick white pain veiled his dying vision. And the monster's roar echoed throughout the forest. It could rest now. It's sacrifice lay motionless on the floor. Dead.
He awoke once more in the forest clearing. The trees did not sway. The wind did not blow. And the sun did not shine. Everything was dead, like him. It was night and above the canopy of trees the moon was so huge that he felt he could reach out and touch it. The ground was smooth and across it he saw Floria beckoning him toward her.
"Come Manson." she croaked, her voice as dead as the forest. He shuffled over to her and as the world stood still they began to dance.
I really doubt his skin 
