The Drabbling Of A Very Bored Blogger

*Sigh* Once again I have procrastinated and am stuck with absolutely no topics in mind that’s worth presenting. So, (don’t worry, it won’t happen all the time) enjoy this story I made up. Maybe it’ll become a sort of background to a novel I’ll make in the future. Ms. Jess I promise that next week I’ll think of something else worth writing!!!

Dawn was waking, the dark rebelled its dominating warmth. A cold drift was swirling in this place, a look of the haunted reflected from the moon’s soft rays. Silence spread through the swampland and desert ways as quick and relentless as a wildfire. Soft croaks and echoes of voices could be heard from deep within the trees, radiating of memories long past.

The air was cool, piercing to the skin, but was quite moist and calm but from the ominous atmosphere coming in from deep within the ancient woods. From somewhere in the deep forest, an owl was heard hooting, its eyes bulged, its wings wrapped tight around its feathered body. It was soon silenced by the scolding darkness that challenged its rule.

In the middle of this bog, this wasteland, a stained, decrepit building stood high above the ground. Moss surrounded it; the smell of it left resemblance of the dead corpses that were flung into the hidden caverns and hiding places of the deep. Lights were seen to have flashed on and off during the winter; a further sign that the forest was alive and awake, filled with disfigured creatures of the night. This haunting feeling left even the bravest of men unable to respond to its taunting lure of death.

Many thought to have passed this place without trouble; others were thought to have been brutally killed. They were of course, rumours, but they were enough to frighten more than just children and creatures of the wild. They were just more to allow the sunken place its own ground of privacy.

On the other hand, there is a way in which the deceitful man had long forgotten to pass through this treacherous land. Beneath the whispering willows, between the roots that follow, a road was paved in the dirt. Gnomes and odd creatures of the dark were alleged to have built this mystery lane, but no one had ever seen such things for an endless set of ages. Rocks and potholes covered its ground; dripping waters ran along the trees’ branches and into the earth. Musical songs echoed its gateways with its long stanzas and rhymes.

Long before men wandered the world, such celebrations were made upon the coming of winter, the wet dew of spring, the blooming of summer and the wilting of fall. But all of that ceased to exist. Whispers and secrets buried the creatures alive in their hate and sorrow. If they were ever to come to the surface, to seek out what lies above, the sun and the moon would surely destroy them all, sending their hated souls to the underworld to be judged. For centuries upon centuries, worlds within worlds passed by time and yet the road remained undisturbed.

Until Now.

A rackety cart drove by this lane; it was carrying something more than what was expected. A man steered the mule in front, his eyes darted to and fro from fear. His clothes were torn, sprayed with blood; his head was wrapped with worn bandages. He continued to look back into the cart and his black fear began to grow. He whipped the poor animal in front of him with anxiety and the mule galloped as fast as its legs were able to carry, which wasn’t at all swift.

Moans, whines and whimpers could be softly heard within the remains of the cart. The driver peered back and cursed. The sun was slowly emerging from the horizon and light slowly crept into the ends of the swamp land. The man gripped his blackened jacket tighter and prodded the mule to quicken its pace. The man felt sweat coming down his beaten face, his hands were now shaking. The reins he held tightly in his hands were beginning to slip and tangle with his fingers.

Time was against them.

The lane was now narrowing and soon a sharp bend was seen. Many had already gone over its edge, falling mercilessly into the ravine tucked safely underneath it. The driver, now blinded by his distress and alarm from the sun's apperance, did not realize what a speed he had handled the mule with. By the time he had absorbed the dangers of the nearby bend, it was already upon him. With his life on the line, he pulled on the reins and held on for dear life.

The mule, who responded to the order dumbly, lifted its forelegs high in the air before it collapsed into the ditch beside the lane. The cart, in its still heavy weight, pulled it down; the reins were nonetheless held increasingly rigid by the old man. The mule, terrified at this peril, tried in vain to keep its balance steady to withstand the pressure brought down on it. The cart soon dragged it down into the darkness below, its frightened brays left unnoticed from the outside.

A sudden clamour of noise echoed throughout the swamp land. Pieces of dark wood was scarred and embedded into the ground, blood was spilt on the trees. At the bottom of the hill the doomed cart lay in an endless pool of red and of wood and of scattered debris left behind by dead carcasses. On the edge of the blood-stained area a brown sheet of cloth lie in tatters. When one looks close enough, they could see a small fist hanging from beneath the sheets.

Voices unexpectedly arose in chatter and screeches. The forest filled with trees of obscurity now was filled with red glowing eyes. Their pitches vibrated throughout the lands, haunting travellers as they go. As the chants of their primitive but penetrating ways increased in volume, a head of green came out of the burnt trees; its disfigured hands held each a dagger. Shadows were darting to and fro the forest, dark figures clamouring close and dispersing into the ominous gloom. Suddenly, the dreaded creature appeared out of its hiding place among the forest dark, its grotesque face contorting with pleasure.

Gigantic, hovering and with a posture of ruthless authority, the green devil roared. The other glowing eyes that hid in the dark were wounded by its calls. The ground shook; the mountains were forced out of their own territory. The swamplands then endured a silence that would have cut even a million soldiers in two.

Another head stuck out, its red eyes bulged in the same repulsive manner, its mouth wide open. A place colour of yellow could be seen in its mouth, a strange red colour stood in its fangs. Its ears were demented, its colour unchanging though the shadows blocked most of its figure. Soon many others jumped out of the darkness called their home and surrounded the mess of debris the cart had made. With another shriek, the revolting and atrocious giant that appeared whole first picked up a dead man by the head and laughed. The green monsters then began looking, hunting. Soon, more bodies were found; dead by the impact of the cart. They all shrieked in unison at their finds.

As the party of beasts continued to feast on the blood that poured upon them, the brown cloth that miraculously landed far from the cart was discovered. Safely concealed in overgrown bushes, the small piece of cloth lay there with stillness until a white endless stream of light neared it. A gloved hand came down and searched the bushes. After sometime, it felt a figure, a body, a shape and the hand lifted the covers of the cloth in frantic desperation. A gasp escaped from the man and his hand trembled slightly. A baby, with its forehead spilling with blood, was breathing; the poor thing was alive! Another hand quickly shot out and bundled the tiny babe in a new piece of cloth. The man gathered the small thing in his arms and swiftly, slyly manoeuvred across the forest.

Dawn was now illuminating its boundaries and expanding its warmth. The forest now burst into colours as flowers, plants and animals alike took their heads out of their hiding place to witness the war won by the light over darkness. The man, however, was in no mood to celebrate.

Cloaked with a long hooded mantle, the eager man ran elegantly but dangerously up the hills to where the lane was located. He knew of the dangers if he were to be caught. He also knew of the many enemies that hunted for him day and night. He clutched the tiny babe tighter and continued to jog up the unstable hillsides. Rocks began to slide from above him and he climbed the rest of the way with the baby wrapped in a bundle behind his back. Slowly and with pain, the man reached the top of the bend and dashed out of the tunnels and dripping trees. This was a place of evil and no one had been able to escape its claws for long.

Soundlessly, the man inconspicuously treaded the roadway, arousing the dust to swirl and fade away as he ran. He reached the end of the road and stepped into the bushes beside. Chanting was softly heard from afar and soon enough a band of horrendous soldiers marched like dead wraiths with their glowing eyes. The man crouched and leaned against the safety of the leaves that hid him and the babe, praying that they would not be discovered.

He held his breath as each row of soldiers passed his place, his arms coiled around his thin body that enabled him to crouch in positions a bulked man cannot. Droning sounds reached to his ears, buzzing music zoomed past by him. The ground shook, the trees moaned in pain and the man was thrown deeper into the forest by an unnatural force. The baby, still attached to his back, stumbled along with him into the darkness that bound them keep.

So what do you think? To be honest, I wrote this from the previous months…I had to do a major makeover, though, on the entire thing and had to edit most of its grammar…Anyway, hoped you enjoyed it!