Chapter 4: Men of Bark
How seconds can feel like hours,
Forever afloat in a sea of darkness.
And yet, the moment you give in to the almost unbearable lightness,
the gravity of the situation sets in.
“AAAAAAHHHH,” Stride screams as the ground underneath hurtles towards him.
His intention to spite the three-eyed demon does not mean he is unafraid to die. No, he is terrified.
In a desperate attempt to mitigate the impact he manages to turn himself midair over to his back.
*THUNK*
All comes crashing down to the ground. As the dust settles, Stride comes to his senses. He sees the ground covered in broken bones, every part of the human body on display. The bed of bones cushioned his fall, enough for him to survive a fall this great. Even so, his entire body hurts.
“Arrnggh,” he yelps as he feels a sharp pain in his side, where a bone has pierced his flesh. Ha, this must be my lucky day, Stride grimaces. A few centimetres to the right and I would have been impaled.
Even through the pain, he cannot ignore the three-eyed demon’s existence.
He squints his eyes and looks up into the dark.
Is he still standing there? He thinks to himself.
The three-eyed demon stands atop the abyss, staring down at him. He is not smiling anymore. For obvious reasons Stride guesses. He did not get ensnared by the absolute fear the demon’s gaze instils upon those who look at him.
The demon is not angry with Stride, rather, it is puzzled as to how the human broke free from his fearful gaze. Too far for Stride to see, the demon runs his tongue over its thin lips, as if to say he is pleased with the outcome. He has found prey worthy of capture. He stands there menacingly, as he looks down upon the human.
Stride lies motionless on the piles of broken bones. His body has suffered a great blow and now with an injury in his side, he cannot force himself to move anymore. Every little movement feels like a dagger piercing his stomach.
It is alright, I have done enough. I have proven that I will not succumb to fear. Stride thinks to himself.
After all the struggle, he needs to express that it is finally okay to surrender, to accept reality… he slowly closes his eyes as he starts to drift away among the hundreds of bodies who have fallen beside him.
Wait…
Why do I still move when my body longs rest?
It is alright to give in, is it not? Am I not in pain?
Stride…?
Just as he wavered in his convictions, he noticed light shine through at the end of what appeared to be a tunnel. There was an opening right in front of him. He could finally leave this place.
I cannot stay here. It is too dangerous. I cannot, will not, give up just yet.
As if all the pain in his body is merely an afterthought, he does get back on his feet and stumbles towards the exit. With every step, it is as if his body is healing itself and his slow stumble turns into a walk. Stride leaves the cave.
The warmth of the sun caresses his skin, he has to shield his eyes from the blinding light. Carefully, he opens his eyes to check out his environment. He stands in front of a forest as far as the eye can see with a distant mountain range peaking above the trees.
“I made it outside,” he says with a bewildered voice readjusting himself to the brightness of daylight. He can hardly believe that he not only made it out of the cave but also escaped death itself. At least for now, he is safe from all the creatures he has faced. He looks around him and realises he covered more ground in the caves than he thought.
“I must have been walking in circles down there,” he acknowledges.
The earth starts to rumble.
“Not again…,” he says in disbelief.
He just escaped one demon, for an old one to reappear. The gigantic sand serpent peeks its enormous head around the mountain corner. Its mouth is dripping with blood, it would appear to have feasted on other unfortunate creatures in Stride’s absence.
The trees! Stride thinks quickly as he snaps back to reality.
He braces his body fully aware that he cannot afford to simply walk away, the giant worm would kill him. No, he must run like his life depends on it.
He sprints towards the edge of the forest. With no time to waste, he does not hesitate andcontinues running onwards, not stopping to look back.
As he enters deeper into the forest, the gigantic sand worm remains far behind him. It seems to have given up the chase.
The pain of the fall, the injury in his side, the blisters on his feet, they all subside for a while. For some reason, at his lowest and most broken, he feels reinvigorated in his struggle to survive. He continues to run for what feels like hours, deep into the woods, until his surroundings turn from light to dark again.
He still feels the weight of the three eyed demon’s gaze as he makes his way deeper into the thicket. He hears faint cries for help in the distance.
It must be my imagination. The voices indeed stop, fading away deep into the dark forest.
Enshrouded in darkness, the canopy prevents light to reach the ground. There is little shrubbery apart from a few thick plant leaves. The soil feels moist and soothing to his feet.
Now that he made enough ground to be far away from the monsters that pursued him he finds himself to be lost in the woods. At a standstill, he breaks down. He is unable to contain his emotions any longer, as his narrow escape from death sinks in.
I was going to die if the bodies and bones had not broken my fall. I would not be alive right now if it were not for the people who died before me and were left to rot in the abyss.
“HEEEEEEELLPPPP!” A distant scream interrupts his sorrow. Was it not his imagination playing tricks on him whilst he ran through the trees, perhaps there were people crying for help?
“Could there be someone else alive?! It cannot be.”
“HEEEEEEELP!” Says the voice of an old man.
Stride runs towards the shouts, not worrying about his own safety. As if his salvation depends on the presence of another person.
“HEEEEEEEEELPPP!” The old man continues.
And just as Stride catches a glimpse of him, he ducks behind a tree.
A giant centipede-like creature parades through the forest with heads mounted on spikes on top of his back. This monstrosity has two heads, one at the top with anthropomorphic features, and the other is an insect. The top head of the centipede laughs as it gallops through the forest. It uses the heads on its back letting them call for help to lure in unsuspecting humans; humans like Stride.
Please go away. Stride thinks to himself as he hides behind a tree.
Fortunately for Stride, the beast pays little attention to its environment. If people feel the need for salvation they will come for him. And sadly, the six heads on its back prove that their strategy is effective. As Stride looks over at the centipede, one of the heads on its back catches his eye.
The centipede turns its head. However, it acts too impatiently and doesn’t have a clue as to Stride’s whereabouts. Once it has assessed there is no prey, the beast continues along its intended path running at full speed through the forest. Its incredible speed is frightening: at least as fast as a horse.
Stride hides until the creature is far out of sight.
Stride contemplates his current condition. I have a few days before I collapse from exhaustion or die from an infection of my wound.
In order to survive, I need the help of others… And I need it fast.
He takes off his shirt and looks at his wound.
I badly need treatment, but waiting around is not going to help me.
He applies some of the dirt on his wound in an attempt to limit the bleeding.
I should try to climb somewhere higher up so as to get a better view of this place.
For the next few hours, he walks. Through dense forests into large open fields, and back again to dense forests. No matter how far he walks, there are trees as far as the eye can see.
Whenever he hears the loud cries for help, he hides. He realises a multitude of centipedes roams these forests. Stride is able to differentiate between them by the number of heads they carry. Whenever he has time to look at them properly, he might be able to identify the faces from the people he had known on his ship. So far, only one of them matches a familiar face. The one he saw first, in the cave.
He wanders through the open plains. On the few large trees that stand there, gigantic heads are embedded on top of them. During his travels in these forests, he has seen many heads like them, in all shapes and sizes. Is it the trees that create them, or is it something else entirely?
One thing he knows for sure; they feel like a bad omen for what is to come.
Large, skeletal like beasts roam the open plains. Stride hides in the tall grass as they pass him, they appear unaware of his presence.
“How am I so calm?” he asks himself in confusion.
It is a strange feeling, a monster that he would normally shy away from in absolute terror, has become something to expect in this world. His ability to adapt and accept his circumstances startles him. Not a day ago, he would have been too scared to move, now he feels composed and determined.
“Acceptance is to doubt your perceived reality.” He whispers. A saying his father often challenged him with.
Apart from the centipedes that roam the forests, there were other forces he had to avoid.
The forests seem to be patrolled by knights clad in dark black armour. What surprises him is that they apparently do not target humans, the trophies they carry are the heads of other woodland creatures.
He leans against a boulder to get some rest.
Stride’s whole life before he was captured as a slave, revolved around theft and violence. He was part of a group of smugglers and thieves in the Capital. The man who took him in, Otto, was something of a father figure towards Stride. He treated Stride well, but even Stride understood that his kindness was due to his particular skills. Stride had a talent for thieving and stealth; it was all he could remember doing. If it were not for these skills, he would have never survived this long.
“Our way of life is a direct reflection of the world we were born in, harsh but opportune.” Otto would tell him.
“The skill is to act upon it.”
Otto was a smart man who had travelled and experienced the world. As his adopted son, Stride was not allowed to become a dull, simple-minded boy. Stride had been forced to learn reading, writing, speaking properly, and most importantly of all: to observe the world around him, to train his eyes and ears to perceive. The truth hides somewhere in the details, the nuances reveal true intent. Of all people, a smuggler must trust their gut instinct. A skill that is acquired through experience, lots of experience.
“But what do I continue to live for? Moments before death, I asked this same question as I jumped into the abyss. Is it guilt, resentment, fear, or my will to struggle?”
Or maybe it is the culmination of everything?
“I have lived through death, and I still do not know the answer…”
As his mind drifts, a woman appears out of nowhere.
She is… naked. He thinks to himself.
Not even questioning how she got here, Stride blushes at the sight of her. She gives him a comforting smile as she carefully and quietly approaches him. She seems friendly by nature and carries a warmth over her, which calms Stride. He is too enamoured to speak, mystified by the sudden appearance of this woman.
She comes face to face with Stride as she stares deep into his eyes. He is captivated by her gaze feeling a deep longing for connection.
She smells good, like fresh flowers at the morning markets. She reminds me of home.
Pretty…
She bends over and kisses him.
He is perplexed, until he gives in to her warm embrace. Her soft hands glide down his neck. He is lulled into accepting her sudden appearance; he wants to believe she is real.
I should close my eyes and just live in this moment.
For when you open your eyes,
You return to reality.
He opens his eyes to look at her again, not completely seduced by her beauty. And right then the subconscious world fades away, and a grotesque, moth–like insect clamps onto his face. Disgusted, he rips it off, as its tentacles slide through his throat followed by a trail of slime.
Can’t-breath…
He squeezes it firmly as he coughs up the moth’s mucus. Swiftly, he flings the insect against a tree, and in his thrust, he loses balance and falls to his knees.
He is surrounded by hundreds of these bugs swarming over him.
I might have caught a glimpse of these insects in the forest before.
Were the trees covered with all of these figures and faces growing out of them?
Was I already entranced by the moth at that point?
As he tries to swat them away, the moths land on the trees with bodies that grow out of them. He connects the dots.
These insects are responsible for these horrifying figures… even the larger creatures have fallen victim like I witnessed before on my travels. I cannot rest here… but… I can hardly stand…
Struggling to stay on his feet, he feels the bugs approaching, and with each blow he strikes towards them he weakens. Pure exhaustion overpowers his withered body. Even then he catches a closer glimpse of the trees, with a sinking feeling the terrifying truth is revealed to him.
“The eyes… they move… the- they are alive!”
The beings that are stuck onto the trees were being kept alive to feed their young. Seeing his inevitable doom urges him enough to get back on to his feet.
The bugs keep pursuing him as he crosses the forest.
I have not always been in one of these parts of the woods, I should find safety eventually. As long as I can get away from these insects.
The flapping of their wings becomes louder, buzzing in his ear. With no strength to fight back, he keeps walking. He feels them land on him, touch his skin, trying to bring him back into the state of sleep paralysis.
“Aarrgnnhh,” he cries out in pain as one of them slips its tentacles in his wound. Without hesitation, he drags it over the ground and squashes out its eye, letting it whimper in pain.
During his dealings with his recent aggressors, he has failed to notice the beast lurking in the dark. This animal is twice his size and looks strong enough to easily take him down. The beast glares at him as it slowly approaches.
I cannot run anymore…
He drags his body forward, stumbling past the beast as pain overtakes his body. The large creature closes in on him.
Its face reveals the beast’s true state and intent. Hardly even aware of its surroundings, the beast slowly continues onward past Stride, coughing up its own blood. Its eyes are filled with a mosaic of eggs that feast on the remaining cornea. The beast follows the moth like a puppet on a string, for the moth has hooked its tentacles inside the beast’s mouth.
Horrified, Stride increases his pace as he feels the lingering moths become ever more aggressive. One lands on Strides head, and shortly after slams on the ground as Stride musters up his last remaining strength to smack it away. His arms now hang limp next to his body as his feeling of desperation grows. The world becomes blurry and fuzzy.
How long does their hive go on fo…-
He slips…
Face first, he rolls down a hill. He balls up to protect his vitals. His body bruises all over as he tumbles, hitting stones and tree branches on the way.
He comes to a stop. No longer can he move. His body is bruised, hurt, and overexerted.
They are still following me, I know it… I cannot let myself end up like that.
“I will not be caged.” He shouts with (a) furious conviction.
He crawls, stumbles, and drags himself forward, forcing every drop out of his body. Using the surrounding trees to catch him when he loses balance. His vision starts to fade as he wanders with no end in sight.
He succumbs against a tree. His body has kept him going for so long, but it can no longer match his spirit.
He lies there, in wait of death.
For curious onlookers watch him from the shadows.
End of chapter 4.