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![[Story in Description] Forest](http://t.furaffinity.net/51328725@150-1678530613.jpg "[Story in Description] Forest")
[Story in Description] The Fracture
Next:
Previous: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/51328725/
First: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/41342787/
Alternative Reading; https://archiveofourown.org/works/3.....ters/119843947
I confess, the illustration is a bit half-arsed. At least, in terms of detailing. If it's not very apparent already. I don't like drawing trees if I can avoid it.
=====
They wandered for some time, long after the sun had set and plunged the forest into a soup-like darkness. Everything looked different at night, that is to say, it didn't look like anything at all. The trees were black, the ground was black, the sky was only slightly less black, but still very close. All in all, it was very dark. The mind works hard to fill in the blanks with all sorts of absurdities when your eyes can't do it for them, like those moments in the middle of the night when you hear a creaking floorboard and you immediately assume there's a serial killer in the room. For Komogo, this manifested as a creeping, growing fear that everywhere he stepped was full of spiders.
A few feet ahead, Telen's lantern screeched to life, it's warm glow warding off the encroaching shadows. Komogo huddled as close as common decency would allow, yet the closer he drew to the light, the more deep and threatening the darkness around him seemed to be. There was something even more primal about this forest at night, the thick wall of trees creaked and groaned like restless giants stirring in their slumber, ready to wake at the slightest disturbance.
Telen, as usual, appeared utterly unfazed. Marching ahead without a worry in the world. He seemed somehow soothed by the chorus of crickets, the hooting of owls and the unidentifiable shrieking of some poor animal being torn to pieces by another. Telen was in his element. Unlike himself, who dearly wished he was anywhere but here.
What was it that could make a man so brave? Did Telen not fear for his own safety? Could he truly be so confident in his own abilities? Or did he simply think that being violently pulled apart was something that just happened to other people? Whatever it was, it was doing little to put his mind at ease.
“Do you hear that?” Telen asked in a hushed tone, stopping abruptly.
Standing still, Komogo strained his ears. There wasn't a sound beyond the unnerving rustle of leaves. “No. I- I don't hear anything...”
“Listen closer.”
Listening more intently, Komogo felt a shiver of unease. It was an eerie silence that hung over the woods. As if every living thing was holding its breath. He strained his ears again.
Silence.
Deafening Silence.
Hadn't the forest been alive with sound not a moment ago? Where had everything gone? The darkness of the forest seemed to loom ever closer, as if the shadows were growing thicker by the second.
“I still don't hear anything.” Komogo squeaked, shuffling closer to Telen.
“Exactly. Bit odd, that, isn't it? For all the bugs and birds to suddenly go so quiet.”
“M-maybe they went to sleep?”
“What, all at once?”
To Komogo, the moment felt heavy, as if time wasn't moving at its proper speed. A thick fog as dark as wine was descending upon them, and with it, the acrid stink of something foul and unnatural. He fought to knock an arrow into his bow, but his body was fighting every step of the way as they slipped between his fingers and clattered to the floor. Small purple specks danced amidst the swirling haze, and in the distance, the trees were being swallowed, one by one by the encroaching miasma until Komogo could hardly see the tips of his fingers. For an agonizing moment, time ground to a halt. The calm before the storm.
A deep, guttural rumbling tore through the forest. The ground heaved, the trees shook. A cascade of leaves rained down from above.
“W-what's happening? T-Telen?” Komogo cried.
But there came no reply. Telen was nowhere to be seen. All he could hear of the fearless Treasure Hunter were his footsteps rapidly disappearing into the fog. Terror gripped at Komogo's throat, threatening to crush the air out of his lungs. The trees shook as a haunting chill howled between them, cutting through his flesh and deep into his bones. Dead, crispy leaves fluttered down, their curled, blackened blades betraying their unnatural end.
The ground heaved again with a deafening boom. A twisted figure formed within the mist, lurching and shuffling in his direction. He wanted to run, he wanted to cry. It drew closer, it's dark silhouette growing larger with each step. A bony, outstretched hand emerged from the haze, it's desiccated fingers tipped with razor-sharp nails twitched erratically. Komogo heard the muffled clatter of his bow hitting the ground.
Its hand drew closer, followed by a thin, spindly arm. Adrenaline thundered through Komogo's veins, begging, screaming for him to move. His limbs refused to obey. The creatures fingers were drawing closer with the wet thumps of its steps, and through the mist, a gaunt, withered face lurched into view. It's black, eyeless gaze bore into the back of his head. Unable to tear himself away, he watched in horror as its jaw creaked open, and a long, tendril like tongue slithered out. Its hand was now mere inches from his face, close enough that he could smell the rancid odour of rotting flesh. Raising its other arm, its jaw opened further still with a sound like two grinding stones.
Finally, adrenaline overpowered fear. Komogo launched himself faster than he'd ever moved in his life, bolting blindly into the darkness beyond. The creature let out a dreadful, piercing scream that ripped through the forest. Komogo's knees gave out, and he slipped onto the mud. Dazed, he spared no time to look behind him, slopping through the muck, he propelled himself off the ground and broke into a sprint. The trees seemed to appear out of nowhere now, as if trying to catch him, to trip him up and snare him in their roots for the creature to find. Branches he could barely see tore savagely at his clothes and ripped into his skin, but only one thought raced through his mind as the fog began to thin.
Run.
Komogo fought to keep his balance. The ground was uneven and treacherous, littered with pockets of cold, slimy mud. Why is the ground so wet? It's the middle of summer! His legs burned from exertion, his lungs aching for a moment to breathe. He chanced a look over his shoulder, a decision that was instantly regretted. The creature was hurtling after him, its spindly twig-like arms outstretched, swiping away bushes and snapping obstructing branches with effortless strength. It wouldn't be long before it was upon him, there was no chance of outrunning something like that.
The earth sloped upwards suddenly. Komogo swerved to the side, narrowly avoiding the wall of solid rock. A dull thud and a disgruntled screech confirmed the creature hadn't been so lucky. A few extra precious seconds of life, he would savour each and every one. Stumbling over a fallen log, he could already hear footsteps resuming their pursuit. His lungs were screaming for air. His leaden legs refused to run any faster as he was reduced to a gasping stagger. It'd be on top of him any moment if he didn't find someplace to hide.
But it was too late. Komogo felt the wind leaving his lungs as he was launched off his feet by a powerful blow to his back, landing crumpled in a bramble-filled ditch. Fumbling about for his bow, his heart sank as he felt the empty space where it used to be, his quiver too, was broken and empty. A wiry hand grasped the edge of the ditch, and the putrid, eyeless face of death peered over it.
Tears filled Komogo's eyes as the thunderous beat of his heart pounded away in his chest. He wished he'd never come here. He wished he'd never trusted that stupid Zora. He wanted to go home, he wanted all this to be a bad dream. The creature drew itself to its full height, its sharp, whip-like tongue flicked with malicious intent. Komogo groped around in the dark for something, anything he could use. Its bones creaked, its arm raised high. He felt the curved, worn surface of a shield under his fingers. The creature lunged.
As quick as he could manage, he heaved the shield up in front of him, just in time to catch the creature's blow. There was a loud, gut-wrenching snap, followed by blinding pain in his right arm as the shield clattered uselessly to his side. Undeterred, the creature reared up again, its bony fingers bent out of shape. This was it. He was going to die a horrid, painful death, all alone in this forest. He'd never see his family again, or his home. He'd thought of all the things he'd never get to do, of his stone collection that would be left forever unfinished, and of all the places he would never get to see. The world seemed to hold its breath, each terrible second drawn to its extreme as he watched the creature prepare to snuff out his life. Just like that Lizalfos nearly had all those years ago. Except this time neither Rook, nor Heroth was here to save him.
The ground heaved again. As if the world had let out a great sigh. The once distant rumbling grew louder and louder until it roared like a waterfall. The inky-black night burst into a malevolent violet as a colossal tower of light erupted into the sky some distance away, banishing the clouds and bathing the ditch in a sickly hue. A sharp pain filled his mind, and for a brief moment, he heard a familiar, tittering, childlike laugh echo throughout the forest.
The creature had turned towards the pillar of light, its malformed jaw creasing into what looked like a smile. Komogo saw what might be the last opportunity he'd ever get. He rolled over, crying out in pain as his weight pressed on his injured arm. His hand clamped around the rim of the shield, its sharp, rusty edge slicing into his fingers. With what little strength he had, lunged towards the creature just as it turned back towards him. The shield slammed into the creature's gnarled, twisted knee, causing it to crumple to the floor with a dull groan. Now unable to stand, it began to drag itself along the floor.
Komogo struggled and kicked, trying to scrabble out of the ditch as the creature slithered its way in. He felt its whip-like tongue slice the side of his thigh, though he barely registered it. The ground shook violently, and bits of mud and dirt cascaded into his face. The roaring grew louder still, until even the shrieks of the creature were drowned out by the cacophony. His right hand found purchase, grasping a dislodged root as he hauled himself upwards with the shield in his beak. His limbs screamed in agony as he pulled, until finally, he tumbled out of the ditch and onto the cold grass.
He wanted desperately to shut his eyes, to rest and sleep. The forest was shaking itself apart, and a deep, terrible booming echoed from below. Dragging himself upright, he staggered away from the pit. There was no telling how long the creature would stay down there. His thigh burned like a freshly salted wound, along with the multitude of cuts and scrapes all across his body. Each step took increasingly more effort, his feet dragged like someone had tied cannonballs to them. He knew the creature would be wasting no time trying to find him once it escaped the ditch, if he could just clear the forest, he might be safe.
The earth lurched violently in a shower of dirt, and Komogo went with it, landing hard on his side. Thin lines marked the soil, growing wider and longer by the moment, snaking along like cracks on a glass pane. Shielding his eyes against the pillar of light, he saw the trees bend and buckle, their tops whipped by a relentless gale as they sunk one by one into the ground. He tried to pull himself away, but even his good arm ached with such exertion that it was like moving through treacle.
Spent, he slumped to the floor, begging the earth not to swallow him whole. The infernal roaring bored into his skull, pounding on his eardrums, the edges of his vision began to darken, his worn, battered body could bear no more. And a moment later, he fell limp.
Previous: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/51328725/
First: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/41342787/
Alternative Reading; https://archiveofourown.org/works/3.....ters/119843947
I confess, the illustration is a bit half-arsed. At least, in terms of detailing. If it's not very apparent already. I don't like drawing trees if I can avoid it.
=====
They wandered for some time, long after the sun had set and plunged the forest into a soup-like darkness. Everything looked different at night, that is to say, it didn't look like anything at all. The trees were black, the ground was black, the sky was only slightly less black, but still very close. All in all, it was very dark. The mind works hard to fill in the blanks with all sorts of absurdities when your eyes can't do it for them, like those moments in the middle of the night when you hear a creaking floorboard and you immediately assume there's a serial killer in the room. For Komogo, this manifested as a creeping, growing fear that everywhere he stepped was full of spiders.
A few feet ahead, Telen's lantern screeched to life, it's warm glow warding off the encroaching shadows. Komogo huddled as close as common decency would allow, yet the closer he drew to the light, the more deep and threatening the darkness around him seemed to be. There was something even more primal about this forest at night, the thick wall of trees creaked and groaned like restless giants stirring in their slumber, ready to wake at the slightest disturbance.
Telen, as usual, appeared utterly unfazed. Marching ahead without a worry in the world. He seemed somehow soothed by the chorus of crickets, the hooting of owls and the unidentifiable shrieking of some poor animal being torn to pieces by another. Telen was in his element. Unlike himself, who dearly wished he was anywhere but here.
What was it that could make a man so brave? Did Telen not fear for his own safety? Could he truly be so confident in his own abilities? Or did he simply think that being violently pulled apart was something that just happened to other people? Whatever it was, it was doing little to put his mind at ease.
“Do you hear that?” Telen asked in a hushed tone, stopping abruptly.
Standing still, Komogo strained his ears. There wasn't a sound beyond the unnerving rustle of leaves. “No. I- I don't hear anything...”
“Listen closer.”
Listening more intently, Komogo felt a shiver of unease. It was an eerie silence that hung over the woods. As if every living thing was holding its breath. He strained his ears again.
Silence.
Deafening Silence.
Hadn't the forest been alive with sound not a moment ago? Where had everything gone? The darkness of the forest seemed to loom ever closer, as if the shadows were growing thicker by the second.
“I still don't hear anything.” Komogo squeaked, shuffling closer to Telen.
“Exactly. Bit odd, that, isn't it? For all the bugs and birds to suddenly go so quiet.”
“M-maybe they went to sleep?”
“What, all at once?”
To Komogo, the moment felt heavy, as if time wasn't moving at its proper speed. A thick fog as dark as wine was descending upon them, and with it, the acrid stink of something foul and unnatural. He fought to knock an arrow into his bow, but his body was fighting every step of the way as they slipped between his fingers and clattered to the floor. Small purple specks danced amidst the swirling haze, and in the distance, the trees were being swallowed, one by one by the encroaching miasma until Komogo could hardly see the tips of his fingers. For an agonizing moment, time ground to a halt. The calm before the storm.
A deep, guttural rumbling tore through the forest. The ground heaved, the trees shook. A cascade of leaves rained down from above.
“W-what's happening? T-Telen?” Komogo cried.
But there came no reply. Telen was nowhere to be seen. All he could hear of the fearless Treasure Hunter were his footsteps rapidly disappearing into the fog. Terror gripped at Komogo's throat, threatening to crush the air out of his lungs. The trees shook as a haunting chill howled between them, cutting through his flesh and deep into his bones. Dead, crispy leaves fluttered down, their curled, blackened blades betraying their unnatural end.
The ground heaved again with a deafening boom. A twisted figure formed within the mist, lurching and shuffling in his direction. He wanted to run, he wanted to cry. It drew closer, it's dark silhouette growing larger with each step. A bony, outstretched hand emerged from the haze, it's desiccated fingers tipped with razor-sharp nails twitched erratically. Komogo heard the muffled clatter of his bow hitting the ground.
Its hand drew closer, followed by a thin, spindly arm. Adrenaline thundered through Komogo's veins, begging, screaming for him to move. His limbs refused to obey. The creatures fingers were drawing closer with the wet thumps of its steps, and through the mist, a gaunt, withered face lurched into view. It's black, eyeless gaze bore into the back of his head. Unable to tear himself away, he watched in horror as its jaw creaked open, and a long, tendril like tongue slithered out. Its hand was now mere inches from his face, close enough that he could smell the rancid odour of rotting flesh. Raising its other arm, its jaw opened further still with a sound like two grinding stones.
Finally, adrenaline overpowered fear. Komogo launched himself faster than he'd ever moved in his life, bolting blindly into the darkness beyond. The creature let out a dreadful, piercing scream that ripped through the forest. Komogo's knees gave out, and he slipped onto the mud. Dazed, he spared no time to look behind him, slopping through the muck, he propelled himself off the ground and broke into a sprint. The trees seemed to appear out of nowhere now, as if trying to catch him, to trip him up and snare him in their roots for the creature to find. Branches he could barely see tore savagely at his clothes and ripped into his skin, but only one thought raced through his mind as the fog began to thin.
Run.
Komogo fought to keep his balance. The ground was uneven and treacherous, littered with pockets of cold, slimy mud. Why is the ground so wet? It's the middle of summer! His legs burned from exertion, his lungs aching for a moment to breathe. He chanced a look over his shoulder, a decision that was instantly regretted. The creature was hurtling after him, its spindly twig-like arms outstretched, swiping away bushes and snapping obstructing branches with effortless strength. It wouldn't be long before it was upon him, there was no chance of outrunning something like that.
The earth sloped upwards suddenly. Komogo swerved to the side, narrowly avoiding the wall of solid rock. A dull thud and a disgruntled screech confirmed the creature hadn't been so lucky. A few extra precious seconds of life, he would savour each and every one. Stumbling over a fallen log, he could already hear footsteps resuming their pursuit. His lungs were screaming for air. His leaden legs refused to run any faster as he was reduced to a gasping stagger. It'd be on top of him any moment if he didn't find someplace to hide.
But it was too late. Komogo felt the wind leaving his lungs as he was launched off his feet by a powerful blow to his back, landing crumpled in a bramble-filled ditch. Fumbling about for his bow, his heart sank as he felt the empty space where it used to be, his quiver too, was broken and empty. A wiry hand grasped the edge of the ditch, and the putrid, eyeless face of death peered over it.
Tears filled Komogo's eyes as the thunderous beat of his heart pounded away in his chest. He wished he'd never come here. He wished he'd never trusted that stupid Zora. He wanted to go home, he wanted all this to be a bad dream. The creature drew itself to its full height, its sharp, whip-like tongue flicked with malicious intent. Komogo groped around in the dark for something, anything he could use. Its bones creaked, its arm raised high. He felt the curved, worn surface of a shield under his fingers. The creature lunged.
As quick as he could manage, he heaved the shield up in front of him, just in time to catch the creature's blow. There was a loud, gut-wrenching snap, followed by blinding pain in his right arm as the shield clattered uselessly to his side. Undeterred, the creature reared up again, its bony fingers bent out of shape. This was it. He was going to die a horrid, painful death, all alone in this forest. He'd never see his family again, or his home. He'd thought of all the things he'd never get to do, of his stone collection that would be left forever unfinished, and of all the places he would never get to see. The world seemed to hold its breath, each terrible second drawn to its extreme as he watched the creature prepare to snuff out his life. Just like that Lizalfos nearly had all those years ago. Except this time neither Rook, nor Heroth was here to save him.
The ground heaved again. As if the world had let out a great sigh. The once distant rumbling grew louder and louder until it roared like a waterfall. The inky-black night burst into a malevolent violet as a colossal tower of light erupted into the sky some distance away, banishing the clouds and bathing the ditch in a sickly hue. A sharp pain filled his mind, and for a brief moment, he heard a familiar, tittering, childlike laugh echo throughout the forest.
The creature had turned towards the pillar of light, its malformed jaw creasing into what looked like a smile. Komogo saw what might be the last opportunity he'd ever get. He rolled over, crying out in pain as his weight pressed on his injured arm. His hand clamped around the rim of the shield, its sharp, rusty edge slicing into his fingers. With what little strength he had, lunged towards the creature just as it turned back towards him. The shield slammed into the creature's gnarled, twisted knee, causing it to crumple to the floor with a dull groan. Now unable to stand, it began to drag itself along the floor.
Komogo struggled and kicked, trying to scrabble out of the ditch as the creature slithered its way in. He felt its whip-like tongue slice the side of his thigh, though he barely registered it. The ground shook violently, and bits of mud and dirt cascaded into his face. The roaring grew louder still, until even the shrieks of the creature were drowned out by the cacophony. His right hand found purchase, grasping a dislodged root as he hauled himself upwards with the shield in his beak. His limbs screamed in agony as he pulled, until finally, he tumbled out of the ditch and onto the cold grass.
He wanted desperately to shut his eyes, to rest and sleep. The forest was shaking itself apart, and a deep, terrible booming echoed from below. Dragging himself upright, he staggered away from the pit. There was no telling how long the creature would stay down there. His thigh burned like a freshly salted wound, along with the multitude of cuts and scrapes all across his body. Each step took increasingly more effort, his feet dragged like someone had tied cannonballs to them. He knew the creature would be wasting no time trying to find him once it escaped the ditch, if he could just clear the forest, he might be safe.
The earth lurched violently in a shower of dirt, and Komogo went with it, landing hard on his side. Thin lines marked the soil, growing wider and longer by the moment, snaking along like cracks on a glass pane. Shielding his eyes against the pillar of light, he saw the trees bend and buckle, their tops whipped by a relentless gale as they sunk one by one into the ground. He tried to pull himself away, but even his good arm ached with such exertion that it was like moving through treacle.
Spent, he slumped to the floor, begging the earth not to swallow him whole. The infernal roaring bored into his skull, pounding on his eardrums, the edges of his vision began to darken, his worn, battered body could bear no more. And a moment later, he fell limp.
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File Size 2.01 MB
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