whimpered, "this knowledge boils my head further."
"As was its purpose!" The demon laughed. "Are you ready to witness this fierce tableau that many envy? It will burn away more of what is left of your tiny soul."
"Yes, my father."
The son's mouth was white with cancerous sores; pus freely flowed past his sizzling lips onto the frying stones at their feet.
"You have become quite the liar, my son."
"Yes," the son stated simply.
"We will pretend, for a moment, that the dream world was more than just that. As you can tell, we have entered the facsimile of a rich green forest. But only by the wildest stretch of the imagination could you believe it is a cool fall day, for we are toasting at a goodly rate. Now watch helplessly as the tableau plays out. You may laugh maniacally, but you can't help them or interfere or join in to torment them further because it is in the past."
"And nor would I want to interfere or help anyone, my father."
"You are learning, son. Now hold tight and observe."
Two teenage boys enter the emerald glade. A big boy, quickly packing muscle onto his yet childlike body, carried an axe; the other one looked frail and carried a pick. The grass splattered the boys' boots with dew as they fearlessly walked into a clearing. The yellow shafts of sunlight glittered among the garden.
The skinny boy, dressed in simple peasant greens (that matched the other boy's only in color) spoke up. His voice carried over the light breezes that played in the swaying tops of the trees. "I thought this was the place guarded by a hideous tree-demon. You told me-"
"Shut up!" the big boy said. "The witch said there was a living heart in the tree. If we could chop out the heart, we will have all the treasures hidden within it."
"If that were true, then why hasn't she done it?"
The big boy's cheeks flushed with impatience. "She said the tree magically prevents her from approaching this area. She guaranteed me (using her mortality as her pledge) that if she came here, the tree would crush her heart without remorse."
"Which tree do you think it is?"
*****
Red said, "My son, this is the part I love watching o'er and o'er!"
"I can't wait to rejoice with you, Father!"
*****
"Look!" the big boy said, pointing. "I'll bet this is it."
They both, attracted to its differentness from the other trees, approached it deliberately, slowly. They tried to take in the foaming evil rolling out of its gray heart, tasting it in the crisp air. The bark jutted out from some of the gray branches; some limbs were starkly white, but large strips of cracked ancient bark were hanging loosely there as well. Many of its branches and smaller capillaries were littered around its trunk and base. Thick, green/gray veins of roots broke the ground, and a few looped back into the loam, anchoring the imprisoned tree to the earth.
"Let's chop it!" the big boy said, leading them to stand directly beneath its mighty swaying branches.
"It almost seems like..." The skinny boy chuckled anxiously. "...like it has a face."
The big one shouldered his axe and prepared to swing at the base with all his might. He grunted with the effort.
Then everything changed.
A great roaring tumult of snapping branches and twigs arose to splatter the boys' four eardrums. They both covered their ears - too little, too late . Blood trickled thinly between their fingers. The pain was mighty. Their ears rang.
When they looked up, they saw Doom staring in their faces; they shrieked while their sanity fled and hid. They stained the front of their pantaloons brown.
A stretched, splintered face hung above them. It quivered with unhinged evil and seared them with its gaze. What they now saw in its "eyes" was wrath, contempt, such unmitigated, shrieking, blood-soaked murder!
Its jaws, teeth and the wooden sinews of its visage cracked and threw splinters into their faces as it spoke. The voice thundered through the boys' bodies like hot shockwaves in solid bass notes. They desperately
"As was its purpose!" The demon laughed. "Are you ready to witness this fierce tableau that many envy? It will burn away more of what is left of your tiny soul."
"Yes, my father."
The son's mouth was white with cancerous sores; pus freely flowed past his sizzling lips onto the frying stones at their feet.
"You have become quite the liar, my son."
"Yes," the son stated simply.
"We will pretend, for a moment, that the dream world was more than just that. As you can tell, we have entered the facsimile of a rich green forest. But only by the wildest stretch of the imagination could you believe it is a cool fall day, for we are toasting at a goodly rate. Now watch helplessly as the tableau plays out. You may laugh maniacally, but you can't help them or interfere or join in to torment them further because it is in the past."
"And nor would I want to interfere or help anyone, my father."
"You are learning, son. Now hold tight and observe."
Two teenage boys enter the emerald glade. A big boy, quickly packing muscle onto his yet childlike body, carried an axe; the other one looked frail and carried a pick. The grass splattered the boys' boots with dew as they fearlessly walked into a clearing. The yellow shafts of sunlight glittered among the garden.
The skinny boy, dressed in simple peasant greens (that matched the other boy's only in color) spoke up. His voice carried over the light breezes that played in the swaying tops of the trees. "I thought this was the place guarded by a hideous tree-demon. You told me-"
"Shut up!" the big boy said. "The witch said there was a living heart in the tree. If we could chop out the heart, we will have all the treasures hidden within it."
"If that were true, then why hasn't she done it?"
The big boy's cheeks flushed with impatience. "She said the tree magically prevents her from approaching this area. She guaranteed me (using her mortality as her pledge) that if she came here, the tree would crush her heart without remorse."
"Which tree do you think it is?"
*****
Red said, "My son, this is the part I love watching o'er and o'er!"
"I can't wait to rejoice with you, Father!"
*****
"Look!" the big boy said, pointing. "I'll bet this is it."
They both, attracted to its differentness from the other trees, approached it deliberately, slowly. They tried to take in the foaming evil rolling out of its gray heart, tasting it in the crisp air. The bark jutted out from some of the gray branches; some limbs were starkly white, but large strips of cracked ancient bark were hanging loosely there as well. Many of its branches and smaller capillaries were littered around its trunk and base. Thick, green/gray veins of roots broke the ground, and a few looped back into the loam, anchoring the imprisoned tree to the earth.
"Let's chop it!" the big boy said, leading them to stand directly beneath its mighty swaying branches.
"It almost seems like..." The skinny boy chuckled anxiously. "...like it has a face."
The big one shouldered his axe and prepared to swing at the base with all his might. He grunted with the effort.
Then everything changed.
A great roaring tumult of snapping branches and twigs arose to splatter the boys' four eardrums. They both covered their ears - too little, too late . Blood trickled thinly between their fingers. The pain was mighty. Their ears rang.
When they looked up, they saw Doom staring in their faces; they shrieked while their sanity fled and hid. They stained the front of their pantaloons brown.
A stretched, splintered face hung above them. It quivered with unhinged evil and seared them with its gaze. What they now saw in its "eyes" was wrath, contempt, such unmitigated, shrieking, blood-soaked murder!
Its jaws, teeth and the wooden sinews of its visage cracked and threw splinters into their faces as it spoke. The voice thundered through the boys' bodies like hot shockwaves in solid bass notes. They desperately
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