Into the Woods

Visibility is low, as the forest overhangs them, thick black trunks covered in wraparound mushrooms continuing through it. What light came out of the treetops, caused the iron scales of the lichen vines sparkle and shimmer.

Cody looks around himself weary for predators as the spot headlight from the truck starts to fade away. To be replaced by the fading grey glimmer of winter light.

Cassie doesn’t look at anything, simply keeping her eyes on her CalCom triangulator, and occasionally logging the distance between themselves, the truck, and whatever landmarks she saw fit to log. She holstered the metallic box when finished, then reached for the camera slung around her neck. She repeated this ritual.

Jason moved ahead like a scout of antiquity, watching the tracks, scratching marks into trees with his knife. The trees around them now carrying intricate sigils known only to him. For the trees whose metallic sap immediately coalesced around the symbol, Jason added a stake with colored cloth, turning the resin against itself.

From an outside view it might have looked as though Jason was the hunting dog of the other two, with Jason crouched down, arms and legs feeling over the thinning snow, while Cassie and Cody stood behind monitoring their instruments only and Jason.

Cody looked around for some sense of historical grounding that had not been consumed by the forrest. A monument, a road, fallen trinket. But resigned himself to the role of moral support and muscle, occasionally pulling out to inspect the myriad of tools and weapons.

Cassie says something like, “Why do you have your flare out?”

“In case something happens and we need to call for help in the forest.”

“You wanna burn a tree down into a signal? Grab your shotgun, then call for help.”

He then offers Cassie the flare gun, saying, “If we do get into trouble, you’re probably going to need to fly up.”

“It’s not usually a good idea to fly in these forests,” Cassie says, “but I’ll do my best.”
Cody tosses the flare gun to Cassie’s who snatches it midair. Now armed with a shotgun, too heavy for his colleagues, he points it around him only to meet Jason’s glare and apologetically lowers it.

Jason directs them to change path. The forrest snow and trees begins to give way to brush, vines and shrubs emerging out of the powder. The canopy above shielding the forrest floor from the light outside.

They walk through a rougher clearing, and as they do so the forest starts to change color, the black mold giving way to bioluminescent lichen.

The forest is deep and dark, yet somehow more well lit than before, when they could see the sky.

Cody calls out to Jason. Who snaps to attention, almost like a dog interrupted from his hunt.
“Many of these lichens are not documented. Perhaps if we were to collect samples for these…”

“No,” was the annoyed response.

Cody sighs, and looks around him. Begins to move his fingers around the weapon, playing with the safety switch.

“What’s giving you the jitters?” Cassandra asks.

“I don’t think I’m a hero,” he says. Less with shame, but with self-acknowledgement, almost relief.

“What do you mean? You coming out here to help us that’s…”

“That’s not what I mean.” Cody moved a little closer to Cassie and spoke at a lower tone.

“I’ve read a lot of ancient myths. Deesea and Anwai Sea and their journeys into the Acelabowls. The Great Moth, The Birdman of the Potmak, Johnny Vinefoot and the Lax Expedition. Hundreds of Cultures, dozens of species, no connection, same story. The Hero must go into the great crater and fight the beasts and monsters that come out of there.”

“Are you worried that this moose, if we find it, is going to be what, a flesh-eating monster?” Cassie teased.

Cody said nothing, Cassie dropped the teasing. “Do you actually believe all of that? Those are just stories! They were probably just tribal wars, and the old Sheriffs wanted to make it sound good. Come on, historian, are you telling me you think the myths are real?”

“I’m not saying that, Cassie,” Cody spoke slowly and carefully, as if trying to carefully package the emotions in his subconscious to appeal to his own sense of reason. “But what I am saying, is that there are too many ancient stories about going into craters and many not coming out. And those who do come out are forever changed. Few dare enter this crater even today, even with that triangulator of yours.”

“So you think we’re going to go see a moose and find a bearded cat instead?”

“Flesh eating Monster, flesh eating tribes, poisonous plants… Clearly something was in there that was only worthy of heroes. And that’s probably not me.”

Cody looked down for a moment as though ashamed, and let out a long sigh. Cassie suddenly looks around at the bioluminescent forest for the first time.

“Come to think of it, this is the first time I’ve ever actually been in a crater that hasn’t been cleared out for centuries.”

“Did they have anything living in them?”

“You mean besides miners, archeological settlements, and tourist traps? No, of course not.”

Realizing what she just said, she immediately moves to take some pictures of the forest around her, only to look at her camera in disappointment.

“Shit. I should have brought more film.”

Cody hands her some from his pouch with extra shells and emergency supplies, and Cassie immediately reloads the camera and starts taking pictures around her.

“Well, if Jason’s going to drag me out here for some wild moose chase, I’m going to get something out of this.”

“Like what?”

“Soil readings, species ids, maybe there is enough here that Calcom could give me a finders bon-”

While Cassie is taking pictures and Jason is following tracks, Cassie stumbles on something and falls. She cries out. Jason stops to turn to her.

“I’m ok, fortunately it was just my good knee that was hurt.”

Cody tells them all to be silent, and couches the shotgun to his shoulder. Jason and Cassie look at each other, as Cody keeps his eyes fixed on the human-like silhouettes near them. He flashes his mounted light at the creatures, to reveal two faceless bronze mounds sitting on a warped rusted bench. Out of instinct he fires, one of the bronze statues shatters like glass. The forrest flocks and flutters as birds and bats move all around them, even the trees seem to shiver at the sound.

Jason was furious. “What the hell, Cody!”

“I’m sorry,”

“You could have scared it off”

“It was nerves, im sorry.”

“Put the damn gun away!”

Cody buried his own surprise and anger and complied. Jason helped Cassie up. They look at what she tripped over.

The red “rock” was actually metal, and wrapped its way up the tree, showing more metallic bars and beams twisted and shattered. The metal has twisted and warped as the trees grew within the iron frame. They looked around the tree to make sense of the shape. Jason is the first to speak.

“Why is there a bench in the middle of a forest?”

Cassie immediately begins to take pictures. Of the twisted bench with the shadowy figures sitting on top. “The Figures look “frosty.” She says as she takes pictures of the one pointy-headed hunched over silhouette still sitting on the bench. “The featureless figures sat silently.”

Cody stares at them both. “The bench was there first.” Cody reaches for a fragment of the statue blown off and inspects it. The myths say these were once cities of The Youznian Empire was here before it was struck down by the...”

“I mean, that’s what they say, but—”

Suddenly, they hear a loud call. Everyone froze. The call came from something deep inside the forest.

Cody pumps the shotgun. Jason glares at him, Cody returns the glare.

Cassie puts the camera back, then steps forward and presses her shoulder to Jason.

Jason looks at her through his gas mask. Neither can see the other’s face, yet somehow they look at each other. She hesitates, looks back behind her. then nods.

They move forward, deeper into the forest. The treacherous brush and winding paths gives way a large open clearing. And almost flat leave covered paths. The forest is gone now. The forest is gone now. The bioluminescent fungi stands alone, coiled and wrapped into pillar-like forms.

Cassie taps her foot on the ground, then with her foot brushes dust and leaves aside, revealing smooth matte black stone slabs. “Oh my gosh—is this asphalt?”

“Cassie, come on.”

“Jason, this rock is worth a fortune. There’s so much of it. It must go out for miles…”

As they walk, they see smooth black stone laid in grids across a maze of peeling concrete walls.

“I heard the ancient civilizations were rich, but they actually used smooth stone to pave their roads.” Cassie remarks half to herself. Cody finds his footing.

“I don’t know why they did, it's terrible for roads, and has no traction. But the old texts say the Youzonian empire was decadent, so…” Cody let the anecdote wither on his mouth as they move through the ruins.

Cassie examines the concrete. The outer face of the concrete peeled away into curls like melting paint in the hot sun—or something else. “You know Cody, I may not be a historian, but I don’t think any empire makes “peeling brittle concrete” so perhaps it's time to revisit that consensus.” She snapped a picture.

Cody feels his heart rise into his throat, He tries to find evidence to debunk her theory, but gives up immediately upon seeing metallic shadows on the brick walls.

The city is covered in them—sidewalks, black stone pavement, walls, glass. Hundreds and hundreds of silhouettes, walking, standing, looking up. Different sizes, shapes, body types, but all resembling the silhouette of the fridgemen.

Cody asks Cassie for her camera, and takes one clear shot. In the distance Jason stood looking out, while the crowd of shadows on the buildings around him stared. Cody and Cassie look at each other in shared recognition and Cody hands the camera back. Cassie goes to collect samples of the metallic shadows on the glass and pavement.

She circles a burnt-out car and scrapes a sample from one of the shadows, fishing a magnet from her bag.

“Yeah, these are metallic. Those are rust. But these over here—those must be iron. A lot of these are rusted, so maybe golden lead. Golden lead shadows.”

They hear the call again. Jason runs ahead.

The streets widen. Burnt-out cars shift from isolated monuments into solid formations as they approach what Cody insists is the city center. It becomes easier to move, hopping over or weaving between the shells of cars standing vigil over the central street.

Closer still, the buildings deconstruct into carved slabs—standing and fallen. Cassie drops her camera in almost religious awe. Cody recognizes them. Written in multiple languages, easy enough to read. He knows several.

“Be not a cancer upon the Earth,” Cody whispers…

They look around. “Guidestones…”

The old Youzonian buildings fall away as they move closer to the call, and The guidestone megaliths multiply. The 10 commandment megaliths seem to form their own colonnade, creating a plaza and architecture of their own. Giving way to a new almost impossibly flat expanse.

Through the ashen fog, they see an organic mass ahead.

It towers several stories tall, its stalk thicker than cars. It pulses with bioluminescent greens and purples, but it looks sick. Gangrenous spots, bites, scratches. Parts of the cap have fallen away. Ahead, an entire chunk has collapsed into a rancid heap of organic matter. A massive organic mushroom.

Cassie runs to be closer to Jason who has moved to a statue-like stillness.

Ahead, an entire chunk has collapsed into a rancid heap of organic matter.

Feeding animals small and large which have descended upon it.

Among them is a moose.

Jason’s breath is caught in the respirator and the steam from his helmet ceased.

The moose freezes and looks at them. Eyes moving between the three faceless intruders. Cody moves over slowly.

“We should go,” Cody whispers.

“No,” Jason says, “I’ve read the sources. The animal won’t harm us if we stand still. Just don’t interrupt its territory, and it won’t come any closer.”

But it does. It walks, hesitatingly, slowly, its gaze almost inspecting the three figures.

For a moment, their eyes meet.

They don’t look like an animal’s eyes.