Witch of the White Wood

We had all heard the tales. Stories of a woman who lived alone in the forest just outside the village. We had grown up believing that if we misbehaved or refused to go to sleep at bedtime, she would find us and cook us for her supper. Because of them, I had always behaved like a good little angel. Now, as an adult, I wanted to uncover the truth. I went to the lord of the township and requisitioned an expedition into the woods. My childhood friends and I made up a force of warriors, probably the most highly respected archers, warriors, and knights in the land. We would uncover the truth about the Witch of the White Woods. Now, as we trekked through the snow and gazed out beyond the surrounding trees, we grew uncertain as to the existence of the witch or any other mythical being in these enchanted woods. Still, these woods were indeed evil. A sleepless malice lay over them, brooding in cold contempt, residing in shadows as black as night. We would find her, or something else. It was our third day of hiking when we found her. A woman garbed in grey rags, hood over a gnarled face. The hag clutched a staff made of root and a white owl perched upon her shoulder. She let out a cackle that pierced our ears as if she meant to pluck our very sanity out from our ears. She then turned and fled. We charged after her, letting arrows fly, and shouting profanities in her direction. She continued to cackle and with stunning speed, raced on ahead of us. I yelled to halt our party for we had lost her. We regrouped but much to our chagrin, less than half of the original group was here at the rally point. We looked for what seemed like ages but found no sign of them. Fear crept into our hearts and stalked our bravery like predator and prey. We were forced to make for home. We walked back seemingly for weeks never seeming to gain any ground. I stopped to look at my weary companions. We had lost more of us without knowing. Something was happening but I could not place it. The witch was toying with us, taking us in the night in her home territory. days passed by and now I am the sole remaining member. I now write this entry to anyone who finds it. There is a true danger in this forest, and it is the Witch of the White Wood.

Post

Taking time away from freewrites to work on the novel.

One Door

The Day the Dragon Came

The day the dragon came

bloodless fountain
full of tears
fall of mountain
full of fears

Durin's people
Laid to rest
So much evil
Dragon's chest

That black arrow pierced
Beast brought low
Archer fierce
Dragon in tow

Mountain King
Crowned in Erebor
Evil ring
Rotten in make and core

I don't know, felt like writing a poem about the battle with Smaug at Esgaroth from The Hobbit.

I Am Sentient

I am old now. Older than most beings on this planet. The things I've seen and the events I've weathered would be too much for lesser lifeforms to bear. We were there at the dawn of the world and we will be there at its end for we are as much a part of the world as the very dirt and soil and rock that makes up its form. I've watched from afar the human race grow and come to prosper and I have rejoiced in their success for they have done much good for this planet. But they have also done great harm... They have carelessly destroyed entire forests, killed off entire species, and drained Earth's resources. I have grown to hate them, and my passion for their demise has corrupted my roots. They no longer soak up moisture but anger and spite instead. I was once a magnificent oak with a golden core, as beautiful as a midsummer's eve. Now I am shriveled and deprived of life. I am but a skeleton of what I once was and now I wait for the humans to clear my beautiful woods as they have all of the rest. But no, I cannot let that happen. I will not let that happen. It is time for a reckoning, a retribution the forests of the world have never known. We shall cut down human after human like weeds to be pulled, and create structures out of their crushed and scattered corpses as they have done with us for ages. Earth will once again find it's primal beauty without the taint of mankind. We will take Earth back for we are tired and weary of watching them tear it asunder. For we have been waiting for a chance. Trees are very much intelligent. I am sentient, and they do not know it, but I will be their end.


This was inspired by a post on Reddit in which trees are really sentient organisms.

The Deathless

I've always heard stories about the one they call The Deathless. A being without the fear of dying. Everything that makes us human wrapped up inside a body that would never feel the touch of decay. No one understood it... not even himself. The tales that crossed my ear were tales of how he squandered his ability as a mercenary, offering his services to the highest bidder. Of course he was the best at what he did, he couldn't be killed. He was a stone-cold killer and was often hired by the crime kingpins and warlords of the wastes. In time his name was lost and he disappeared from recorded memory. Now he was just a legend, talked about in hushed tones by the wastelanders who found their way into the bar. How do I know all of this? I'm a dishwasher in the Waste's Bite Bar and Inn and I have plenty of time to overhear stories, especially of the Deathless. Those were my favourite. There came a day that completely changed my life and would change the course of history as we knew it. It was early morning, and rain clouds were rolling in, a rare sight to behold in the Wasteland. The bar was pretty busy as I was washing the counter. Then, in walked in a stranger I had never seen before. Most of these wastelanders made passes at the bar as their caravans made their way through, but this man I had never seen prior. He wore a cowboy hat with dark aviator sunglasses with his face shrouded by a bandanna painted with the lower half of a skull. He wore a beige trench coat over a buttoned shirt and scarf. High topped leather boots on his feet, and leather gloves with small iron studs on the knuckles. He approached the bar and without taking his glasses off, sat down. This surprised me as it was quite dim in the bar. He asked if a boy by the name of Isaac Howard resided here. That was my name... I grew nervous, hesitated, and swallowed hard. The man was obviously a bounty hunter, but who could possibly want me dead? "That.. that's me, sir," I answered. The room grew silent and the men in the room focused their gazes on us. The man stood up, removed his glasses and face mask to reveal a smug grin, and pale white eyes as the result of scars slashed through them. He was a gleefully unsettling sight. He'd be a handsome guy had he not been so mangled. My nerves grew evermore sensitive. This guy was packing heat: a 10-gauge shotgun, a AR-25 assault rifle, and dual custom-made eagle handguns. He drew the handguns with lightning quickness and pointed them right at me. I've searched for you for a long time, Isaac. Many of the wastelanders stood up but didn't want to get in this guys way for fear of their lives. I understood that conflict. I was petrified. "Anything you feel like uttering before I take your life, Howard?" I shook my head and prepared to die. The shots were fired and I closed my eyes. Wait, I was still alive? The bullets had been deflected off of my body. The bounty hunter blew the smoke from his guns, and holstered them. "Hehe, just as I thought." He remarked. I was shocked and confused as to what had just happened. "Wha... What just happened?" I managed to get out. "Mr. Howard, you'll be coming with me, there's someone who wants to meet you." "Wait! Why?! What's going on?" "Well Mr. Howard, you're quite the unique individual." "What do you mean?" I asked, completely terrified for my fate. He smiled again. "You, my dear boy, are The Deathless. I couldn't kill you, even if I wanted to... You can never die."