1)
Something exploded out of the bushes, knocking him to the ground; something savage, wild. Its tusks tore bloody furrows down his chest and stomach as it lunged for him and he threw his arms up in a futile effort to protect himself. With a triumphant squeal the boar sank its teeth into his wrist. He screamed and lashed out with his other hand but none of his blows made any difference. The boar had tasted blood now and it wanted more. The cloying stench of fecal musk and fear made him gag further.
With one last desperate attempt he stabbed his fingers into its eye. The boar let him go, keening in pain and he managed to throw it off with the last of his strength. He clutched at his bleeding wrist and tried to push himself out of its path. But he was too slow.
He barely managed to get into a crouching position before the boar charged him again. He feebly tried to defend himself but its sheer force threw him to the ground. This time he stared into its bloodshot eyes as it went for his throat. Alex screamed, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it.
2)
In just one hour his whole life had been turned inside out and it had all started so innocently. He'd opened his eyes to his new life without knowing what it meant; waking up in a field with no memory of falling asleep.
He got up quickly to figure out what was going on and felt the blood rush from his head as pins and needles engulfed him, making his head light. There was a worn and splintered fence post to his left and he held on to it for support. It took a couple of minutes for the dizzy spell to go but this allowed him time to take in his surroundings.
He was on a bridle-path between fields, which led to a dark and foreboding wood. The wood triggered a memory deep inside which he couldn’t place and the more he tried
to remember it, the more elusive it became.
It was eerily quiet; no motor-traffic grumble, no guttural wail of trans-atlantic jumbo’s, barking dogs or screaming kids, and that had unnerved him. He realised that he was completely alone in a strange place and, for all he knew, could be miles from anywhere familiar. The air was the sweet fresh test of morning; a crisp dew soaked the bottom of his jeans.
All seemed calm. But there was something at the periphery of his vision that just lined the field’s edges; the horizon quivered like a heat haze and it took him a couple of seconds to realise that it was a mist drifting in. As the grass continued to eddy and coalesce in the wind, he noticed that the mist was getting closer to him, going against the wind.
The post that he'd been leaning on was part of a rough wooden fence that delineated the boundaries either side of the path. Ahead was the wood and behind him the dense mist was almost surrounding him now; getting thicker by the minute, it looked more like a fog that would soon absorb him completely. He didn't like that at all. There was something about being lost in a fog; it was a sense of being totally enveloped and yet utterly alone. Fog was clammy, had the pallor of death and left you just as cold.
With it closing in on him with every passing second there was only one place Alex could go: the wood. It called to him, dark and foreboding, he knew that it was waiting for him, and with each step closer the fear within him grew. Nevertheless he quickened his pace; up ahead the trees were so close together they swallowed the light and the gnarled branches beckoned him closer still towards the viscous dark. The grass dried and died the closer he got to the wood and he no longer felt the sun's warmth on his skin. The air was dank, damp and smelt of old age and loneliness; lost dreams and night sweats.
He looked back and all he saw was the fog. Thicker now, rolling towards him; undulating, coalescing. Something was moving within it. He turned round to face it,
his curiosity getting the better of him. Surging, seething, reaching out for him like a plaintive lover, turning him to ice as it stretched out to him. He knew that when it touched him he would be lost forever, but he felt drawn to it and actually reached his hand out.
Suddenly a deep throated bark shattered the silence. It was just enough to break the spell and he quickly turned and stepped into the black surrender of the wood.
3)
Whilst in the wood he had felt disorientated, as if he was in a lucid dream, the world around him felt underexposed, unreal. He had found himself inside a tunnel of holly trees and even the woodland floor was slightly concave as if a groove had been cut into the very earth itself. Discarded leaves and branches littered the floor, crackling and crunching under his feet.
Ahead of him the tunnel petered out and widened until the holly became sparser and bracken grew either side to his shoulders. In the near distance oak, beech and birch trees stood tall; the leaves a fresh, beautiful chartreuse, glowing in the lazy light. A sweet breeze rippled through the foliage whispering to him, acting as lyrics to the enchanting birdsong.
Alex had felt spellbound, as if he was walking inside a fairy-tale. The path sloped gently to a stream before undulating back up the other side. To his left the trees were dense and the sun’s rays stippled through them, creating patchworks on the woodland floor. All around the twigs and branches acted as an early warning to the wildlife that scampered, slithered or flew regardless how carefully Alex trod. As he got closer to the stream he could see that the ground was churned in several places.
The stream shimmered as it languorously slithered through the wood without a sound, further heightening the dreamlike atmosphere. Midges clustered, spiralling around the water’s edge.
A couple of meters away he noticed a rabbit hole, unremarkable except for the tufts
of white which stuck out from odd angles. Venturing closer he saw pages from a book that had been haphazardly stuffed down the bolt hole. Scooping them out, he wiped the mud from the pages and started to read.
““Is this real? Any of this?”
“Yes, it’s true. You are in a forest that by rights should not exist, talking to a werewolf; king of a long dead pantheon. But in another reality you are still in your car, a victim of a horrific crash; your body warped and bloodied, sculptured by metal on flesh.”
“And on another level I’m writing all this down – the ideas like fractals in my head.”
“Not you, Creator – merely your shade. You are where you belong. Here. Now.””
The rest of the page had been illegible but what he had read made no sense whatsoever. He tucked the pages into his pocket for safe keeping, being careful not to tear them. A branch cracked behind him; he looked up and held his breath at the sight that met his eyes.
Standing in front of him was the most magnificent Stag he'd ever seen, the king of the forest; so proud, its coat chestnut red and sporting a majestic spread of antlers. Alex was transfixed and felt drawn to him, wanting very much to touch and become one with the stag.
It was then that he heard the heavy rustling in the bushes to his right; that was enough to break the spell between them, and the stag bolted. The rustling became louder, but it seemed too large to be a rabbit or a bird. Alex peered into the undergrowth wondering whether it was a fox.
The boar's attack had been viscous, unrelenting; taking him completely by surprise. The transition to unconsciousness was painful and Alex didn't know whether there would be anything to wake up to….
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