Infernus by Mike Jones Page A

tried to shriek until their brains exploded.
    "We can't have all this screaming," said the tree. "You'll bring the rest of those rat-bag villagers before I need them."
    Its groping branches shattered their teeth as it searched for something within their mouths. Both tongues were ripped out while they stood quivering in place.
    A great branch in the form of a "Y" came coolly snaking from behind its trunk and lifted the skinny boy into the air. Cradled by his neck, he hung to the side of the tree.
    It creaked its trunk to look at the skinny boy, but spoke to the fat one. "You will not believe the ease with which I shall dispose of your companion, fat boy. Know two things: one, the death of the skinny boy will only be sudden for my immediate pleasure and your amazement; two, the length of time I will torture your baby fat body will be legendary, even by my standards. When the villagers find what profanity I have accomplished - of course finding drying strips of you in my branches won't hurt, either - they will run from this glade, filling their pantaloons, and will be too afraid to ever come here again."
    The tree spoke softly, almost maternally. "You have been told about the living heart that lives within me. The witch who told you this is my slave. She no doubt told you some nonsense about riches untold that I'm supposed to have somewhere here. It is her heart that I have imprisoned inside that keeps me alive, boys. To kill me would free her to die in an instant. She has lived many hundreds of years now, and that's a long time, even for a witch. She's tired and wants to rest."
    The tree turned its face to the big boy who still stood on the ground, quite insane. Within seconds, the tree had separated every part of the skinny boy from the rest. As the creaking and snapping subsided, little thumps could be heard when the parts thudded to the ground like soft drumbeats.
    "Now," the tree said, with an expression that resembled unbridled affection (but wasn't quite), "do you have any idea what I am going to do with you, boy?" The tree lowered its face until it touched noses with him. The boy felt a gnarled branch scrape the seat of his pants. "Gasp! Right below your - Yes, boy! I'm going to do things to you that I have only seen in my nightmares. You, young foolish boy that once was, cannot imagine what those things might be!"
    The tree shivered again with unbridled delight and began to drool sap as it slowly, slowly, oh, so slowly, went about his work.
    *****

What the father and son savored in their viewing made them heave bile onto the forest floor for [days] segments of time.
    As they walked out of the dream and back into the heated plains of Infernus, the son asked the father, "Can I come here often, beloved?"
    "Not only can you, but each time you enter this blessed tableau, you will see a different rendering. Through the eons, there were only 1,176 of them. Shame, really."
    "But, were they delicious, Father?"
    "They were, indeed. The old ladies who foolishly stumbled into the clearing can be savored for [many times]. They were all uniquely dispatched and consumed, but the only singular one was-" [here Dr. Anthony Begels thought it best to edit out what your imagination has certainly already supplied]. "Of course, what we saw was the last one. The villagers had evolved to the point where their wrath was greater than their fear."
    "Is that recorded in the tableau, Father?"
    "Yes, but, wait...are you saying you would like to see that which would rip out your heart with sorrow and sadness?"
    The son was drooling with anticipation.
    "Go by yourself, son. I will wait here for you." The father soothed him. "It has now become that day, my child. Go look!"
    The son returned to the tableau and looked, and felt himself falling into the illusion of it, disappearing and becoming the activity.
    *****

The place all around the tree was covered with men and women in simple green raiment, waving every kind of sharpened silver. A bearded oak of