Though running away had not been a decision borne of the clearest mindset, my plan to cross the Borochianni Forest was even more ill-conceived. It was logical, to me, both in saving time and avoiding detection, and would have been practical—if not for my lack of outdoorsmanship.
I had barely been able to rest the first night, both due to anticipation of my venture and the cold ground and stiff roots digging into my back. Instead I sat, and thought, and eventually regained enough strength to move on. The forest air was crisp and refreshing. The pine trees of the mountainside were exchanged for an army of lean beech soldiers, standing at attention in the view of the wide and gnarled limbs of their oaken generals. Perhaps I should have found less peace in these surroundings, but even expecting monsters behind each shield of bark could not stop me from savoring this tranquility.
I considered what creatures might await me: Could werefolk have a secret pack within the forest? Perhaps I’d stumble upon an oversized bear, or fox, and find out for myself. Not that I would survive such an encounter. Or perhaps a vampire had hidden here long ago, hoping to wait out the Crusade and becoming mad in its solitude.
A snapping filled the quiet night air, shaking me from my considerations. I realized then that I was entirely ill prepared to defend myself, should the need arise. As though any immortal creature living in the woods would take kindly to a strange woman’s proposition of peace. More likely, I’d be eaten. My eyes darted across the forest floor in search of the sound, only to spot a rabbit rusting through the leaves. My stomach’s gurgle reminded me that I was even less prepared to feed myself. I had rations to last until I reached Borokos. Or, Lunarym help me, if I am turned vampire before then I’ll have no need of food. I turned away from the critter to continue on my path, gauging direction from the antique star chart I had purchased (perhaps the only insightful preparation I had brought), and the critter scampered away.
A second, louder cracking burst through the trees.
Screeching followed, a sound unlike any I’d heard a rabbit previously make.
Popping, snapping.
Silence.
My heartbeat spiked in my chest, fluttering as I straightened to attention. I had found a monster in the forest - but not the one I had come looking for. The creature currently peeling the spine from the rabbit was shaped less like a human. Its skin—if it could even be called such, anymore—was mottled, rotting flesh interspersed by bark and moss and ichor. Its limbs were elongated and disproportionate, interspersed by bulbous growths like knots in a trunk. Thick, leafy vines wrapped and coiled it, though whether these were restraining the creature or simply cloaking it was unclear. It groaned a deep, baleful noise: the sound of wood creaking in place of vocal chords.
I knew of these creatures. My father had told me of them when I was a young child. They were not portrayed in the same way a violent werefolk or seductive vampire might be. They were not the blaring evils of inhumanity, abhorred by the just and logical. They were called many things across the Wheel: Erdgeist in Oryseran, Maeste as my father would say in his Ieatan dialect, but most commonly they were referred to as Nymph. Each one had once been human. People whose deaths were so tragic, whose bodies were lost to the elements, whose souls were so shattered that they remained tethered to Ekhypso. And, unlike aforementioned villainous inhumans, these creatures were impossible to kill. Beyond typical ghosts, they became embodiments of the forces of nature that ended them. I wondered who this one had been. What had happened to a lone person wandering the woods that was so horrid it could turn someone into such a thing?
A shudder ran down my spine at the thought.
I did not want to stay to find out. My heart continued to thunder in my chest, and I could practically taste my pulse. As I began to step back my heel caught on a gnarled root, sending me stumbling into the trunk of the offending tree with a grunt. The back of my head cracked against the trunk
The maeste snapped its head towards me, hollowed eyes of pure darkness locked in my direction. It opened its mouth, and wailed.
“Shit.”
It seemed I would be finding out, after all.
Special thanks to Sarah Faxon, whose Flash Fiction Friday prompt this week reminded me of this idea. Originally, this was planned as a chapter in the rough draft of my now-scrapped manuscript, which had been laid to rest as it instead became two manuscripts: the vampire x monster hunter romance I am currently on the second draft of, and a cosmic horror. This was a great reason to finally get this idea out of my head, as it hadn’t found a home in either new manuscripts!
So, what did you think of these ? Let me know! If you haven’t already, check out Geist Girls for a look at another form of nymph, and how ‘modern day’ monster hunters take them down.
As always, thank you so much for reading!
Until next time,
M.K. Moretti
Beautiful story!