The
Crazed Boy
As
he sat, curled beneath the bloodied thorns, he understood the reason
for the tall tales. The stories he heard as a child might have served
to light his imagination for a few moments, but by no means could
they have readied him. The tales were told in warning, only now did
he realize their purpose. They told him that the the vines within the
forest could wrap and contort the corners of his mind, that the
birds would drop like stones from the trees and the bark would bleed
whilst the forest wept childish tears.
He would shrug off the
chilling tales and continue living ignorant to the danger beyond the
twisted branches. The tales of Branch Bridge were commonly known
among the bandits of River Gate, so commonly known that one would
assume there was no need to remind one another about the dangers.
However the Crazed Boy had forgotten, and now he was to suffer for
his negligence, he had wandered into the woods aimlessly and without
hesitation. It did not take long for the forest to corrupt the Crazed
Boy's impressionable and naive mind. Only the most experienced and
head strong of wanderers could make it through Branch Bridge alive,
even then what was left of them was deranged, some more so than
others. Those that never made it out of Branch Bridge were said to
have become the tree goblin's thralls, a twisted wanderer is said to
be one of the most vicious beasts imaginable.
All the tales he
had heard of this place were beginning to come back to the him, but the facts vanished just as quick as they had come.
His thoughts and memories began to burst like bubbles as his mind
rapidly boiled beneath his skull. He felt as if his body was no
longer his, it convulsed and twitched. He tried to remain still as to
try and put himself to rest but he knew then that the he was no
longer the ruler of his own body, and that within moments his
mind,thoughts and memories would be overthrown and left to decay like
rotten bark.
He had one last moment of clarity. The mind
wrenching wood began to clear of all things evil, purity and beauty
was all he saw, but only for a moment. Every so slowly the beauty
began to rip apart, the calm scenery was being lacerated by malicious
and jagged thorns. Like a canvas being torn away piece by piece to
reveal a hellish and demonic background, the Crazed boy sat paralyzed as he watched his familiar world become less and less known to him.
As his world and his mind changed, all he could think to do was
embrace the nightmare. The final piece of canvas was ripped away and
all he could see was blood and darkness.
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