Within the forest, M.M.K and Aaron Kelley [classic books to read TXT] 📗
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- Author: M.M.K and Aaron Kelley
Book online «Within the forest, M.M.K and Aaron Kelley [classic books to read TXT] 📗». Author M.M.K and Aaron Kelley
Dawn is approaching, and the bustling town is filled with hurried drivers still in a sluggish state. Farmers are waking to start a new day in the wide open, sun glazed orchards. They stare out into their wide rolling hills and watch as the nightly mist dissipates. Somewhere beyond the crowded roads lies a forest with dense white fog settling low to the ground. The creatures that inhabit the lush forest are waking for the bright day, or turning from it because they are better off as creatures of the night. Deep within and past the other scurrying animals, graceful deer sit at rushing rivers. The deer listen and watch with caution for the many lurking predators hiding in the shadows. Just beyond, tiny creeping ants continue on a monotonous march of exploration. These and a thousand other scenarios can take place in a forest as vast and ordinary as this one and although all is calm, every forest holds its secrets. The people on the busy city streets sipping coffee, the city dwellers walking their dogs and everyone starting their days obliviously do not know what has taken place in the forest in that early hour.
The only witnesses are the silent trees and the frightened deer as they run from the crunch of leaves, the fall of heavy footsteps, the sense of coming danger and the odor of lingering death. A towering figure leans over the river and scrubs crimson stained hands in the clear water. The aged hands grab the heavy spade as he return to his silent victim. Taking hold of a leg, the body scraps over the gravel in its path and moves easily towards the shallow grave. The azure eyes of the dead stare up at him, and their glassy stare gives him a thrill that will be savored. His only fault, was being beautiful.
Youth is a gift, and the whispers and muted screams twisting in and out of his consciousness had known that it would give him pleasure to take it from this young man. Seventeen was his targeted age and this one had mistakenly stumbled into the forest on a dare, drunk and slurring with elation.
Although the boy had begged for his life, he had not heard his words. He heard the lull of the boy’s rich voice, felt the softness of his skin and the heat of tensed muscles as he placed the cool knife against his heaving chest. I had made him beautiful all over again, covered in such a lush red.
Finally, he shoves the body into the grave with his foot and watches it slide easily into the darkness. Its fall is silent and the earth surrounds the boy and the mud is slathered down his arched back now. Vincent will never die an old man and he will never suffer as many mortals do.
Staring into the river, his tired face is dark with the stain of sunlight and hardship. His body is lean, but his hands are stained with sin that no water can ever wash away. But he loves the dark thoughts he possesses. He gave Vincent salvation, but no one would ever understand that.
Taking hold of his shovel, he begins to fill in the hole. He covers the body up, starting from the feet, up over the legs, chest and then to the tilted head, just so he can admire his eyes one last time. As he leaves his victim to die with his beauty, he knows that he is the salvation of all youth and the controller of time itself. If all beauty is wiped out, than it can never fade. All ready his heart is aching again, the voices are whispering, his fingers are twitching and his legs are on fire. He knows what he will do next.
Suddenly, in a moments notice, all is still. A deer hangs in mid leap, ants freeze on the leaf strewn ground. Birds stop in flight, and not so much as a single pulse beats as the forest began to fade. Colors merge to form a black abyss as a boy wakes from his nightmare, gasping as if he had been the victim running for his life in the unforgiving labyrinth of twisting trees as he fought to escape his murderer. The boy only wished it had been a nightmare, one awful dream that would never be true.
Text: (c) M.M.K and Aaron Kelley. Text may not be distributed in any other way.
Images: "Murder in the Forest" by ~tfoure-deviantart. "Another day, another pain's art"-tumblr
Publication Date: 01-26-2013
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