NB: This story was inspired by an illustration of Alan M. Clark, who has graciously allowed me to use his picture in the first chapter.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies
~ Lord Byron ~
Complete Story Here
Chapter One
Shit.
Fuck.
Damn.
The ancient wheezing Toyota gasped a final time, and then there was a loud metallic CLUNK as it shuddered to a stop. Michael barely had time to maneuver the car onto the side of the road.
Stupid rent-a-wreck. He should have known better…
Now he was stuck out on the side of a desolate road, between the ocean and woods. And it was in the middle of the night, of course. Only five more miles till he reached the hotel, and he was dog tired.
And, wouldn’t you know, with the hills and the thick woods to his right… nope, no cell coverage at all..
Arrgghh! Why him? Why tonight? On the eve of the most important job interview he’d ever been offered?
OK. Calm down. Think… Stay here and sleep in the car? Try to fix it? He had no mechanical knowledge whatsoever, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to look under the hood. He grabbed the flashlight out of the glove box. Sighing, he turned it on and stepped out of the car.
Raising the hood of the car, he thought he saw a movement to his left, where the woods were blackly outlined against the moonlit sky.
“Anyone there? If you do, know anything about cars? I could sure use some help!” he yelled out. At least if it was a serial killer, he would know Michael had a decent set of lungs on him.
Nothing but the rustling of the trees in the wind…
OK, so probably just a wild animal, or a sneaky serial killer.
“Let’s see if we can figure this out,” he thought to himself. “A grown man in his prime, with a shiny new MBA from Columbia, surely I can figure out a piece of machinery.”
What was that?
He caught a glimpse of something moving out of the corner of his eye. Surely he did. But when he turned to look at the copse of trees there was nothing.
But. But… wasn’t that nearest tree further back?
Only the rustling of the trees answered his suspicions.
He turned his attention back to the car. No sense in behaving like a silly old biddy; he was in the prime of life.. anyone with anything less than a gun aimed at him would be given a run for his money.
Let’s see now. Hmmm, maybe it was the radiator? Surely there shouldn’t be all that steam escaping from up under the hood, should there?
He had some bottled water in the back seat. Maybe if he let the car cool off a bit and then opened the cap, he could just pour some in the radiator and hopefully limp into town..
“See there,” he thought. “I am a man with a plan. One better than walking into town, or sleeping out here in a car parked in the middle of nowhere.”
What was that?
That tree! It definitely was closer.. And the rustling seemed louder even still.
“Damn, I should have taken a break after graduation,” he thought. “I drive myself too hard. Should have gone down to the Bahamas with Rusty and the girls instead of immediately going on interviews. I’m losing it. No corner office for you, young man! A padded cell will do just fine, thank you!”
He chuckled to himself.
“Yep. Get a six pack tonight if I make it into town… I can do that interview standing on my head tomorrow even with a hangover.”
The trees rustled.. “Yesssss,” they seemed to say.
Dammit that tree WAS closer! He could see it clearly now, even with the moon behind it! Gawd it was creepy as hell, all viney, yet somehow sensual, curvy even…
She Comes for You, Michael
OK, first some beer, then get a job, then find a girlfriend..
He needed to put the water in the radiator now, and get the fuck out of Dodge here. He didn’t know what was going on but he didn’t want any part of it. He opened the back door to the car and reached in and got the bottle of water.
He turned around and tripped on a tree root and fell down. That tree! It was only a couple of feet away! How could it have…?
The roots were snaking all over him, around his legs, his ankles, and started to drag him toward the tree. He tried to cry out but he was shaking so hard, he couldn’t. The tree started edging back toward the forest, creeping its way back, snaking out roots, then pulling itself forward.
The rustling of the trees in the woods became louder. “Yesssss,” they said. “Isssss gooood.” The tree that had him answered back. “Yesss. Yessss. I waaaant. Isssss goooood.”
