The Darkness Hums, Part Three by Elise Peyrat

It’s a girl.

It’s a girl with short brown hair and mushrooms growing on her head. They form a crown, like a fairy ring. We stare at each other, breathless. Her eyes are peculiar, big, entirely black. The light of the barn should reflect in them but instead seems to be completely swallowed.

‘Help’, she gasps, and darts towards the forest.

She stops at the edge of the woods, waiting. Waiting for me, I realise. She looks more human than anything else. I grab the shotgun off the wall and follow her. We step into the forest and it swallows us like a mouth. Not even a few yards from the outskirts, the light of the sun is completely blocked by the trees. The smell of damp soil and animals is strong. It feels strangely familiar. The girl holds a hand for me. She has a kid’s watch on her wrist – plastic, dirty, little cartoonish characters smiling. I take it. The old woman says if you’re going in the woods, follow the animal’s path. They’ll know where to walk.

I follow the girl to a clearing. In the center, there is a pond. It’s a strange place, the trees seem to have grown away from the body of water. They form a perfect circle around it, fireflies’ reflection in the water light the clearing eerily. The girl runs to the pond. There is something in it. Something drowning. I throw the shotgun and lean by the edge. I stick my hand in and someone grabs it. I pull. It pulls back. I teeter but lose my balance. It pulls me in. Water fills my lungs as I try to scream, to reach for the girl, to hold on to something. The pond is bottomless. I sink, I sink, I sink.

I follow the girl to a clearing. In the center, there is a fairy ring. The fireflies won’t fly in the heart of it. I look at the girl, hesitantly. She looks back earnestly.

‘Can I have your name?’ She asks. And, like a fool, I give it to her.

Her smile turns malevolent. I tighten my grip on the shotgun but she’s on me in less than a second. She pushes me and I stumble backwards. I fall in the fairy ring. I reach for the shotgun, unsure whether to shoot the girl or myself. Roots of nearby trees surge from the ground, wrapping around the metal and tearing it away. The earth crumbles under me. The fairy ring eats me whole. I fall, I fall, I fall.

I follow the girl to a clearing. In the center, there is a boy. Just a boy. A teenager in a dark hoodie. He has his back to us. The fireflies land on his clothes and seem to disappear in the folds. He turns to look at us. Where there should have been a face, there are fur, fangs and blood. A wolf-boy. He snarls his teeth and leaps towards me. The hoodie dissolves into a pack of wolves. They tear into me, biting, ripping, chewing and spitting. I can hear my bones splintering. I am not sure anymore if I am the boy, the wolf or the prey. I eat, I eat, I eat.

I follow the girl to a clearing. In the center, there is the angel. His wings are wide and dirty. He has finally come for me. He made the forest, and He made me, and now He is claiming my body.

I follow the girl to a clearing. In the center, there is a cave.

I follow the girl to a clearing. In the center, there is a skeleton with flowers growing out of its ribcage.

I follow the girl to a clearing. In the center, there is me, eating my own hands.

I follow the girl. I follow the girl. I follow the girl. I follow the girl. She drags me through the woods, jumping over dead branches and rocks. She never seems out of breath. I do not remember if we are running towards something or away. Maybe something is chasing us. I am tired. My legs feel weak. I dropped the shotgun long ago. My skin is scratched and bloody. I need to sit down, I need to rest. I am so tired.

I let go of the girl’s hand. The girl doesn’t stop running. She disappears into the trees. I feel so alone but I know that I am not. You are never alone in the forest. My knees buckle under me and I fall to the ground. I curl up and close my eyes. Maybe the moss will swallow me. I sleep, I sleep, I sleep.

I sleep for hundreds of years. And while I sleep, my bones grow. They grow big and strong. I am enormous. I do not fit in my skin house anymore. The trees watch me sleep. They cover me with their dead leaves. Blanketed away, I dream of monsters, angels, mushroom-girls and wolf-boys. Moss covers my eyelids. Trees grow on my back. Every time my skin tears, I grow eyes. Every time my bones break, I grow wings. One day, I will wake and be taller than the whole forest. Neither boy nor girl, I came from the earth. I am the monster sleeping in the forest.

When I am awake, the girl comes by. She sits on my shoulder. She asks for stories about the outside world. I tell her about the house, the old woman, the dog, the kids on bikes and the cicadas. Soon, she brings her friends. Little fairies, wingless birds, wolves with countless mouths, deers with antlers like thorn bushes. I tell them of the boyhood rituals, the dreams of somewhere else, the wind chimes. They listen closely.

This is the wild country and we live here as a big family. When the fog seeps from the forest into town, we go visit the living. At night, we whisper to them to join us. When the boys who have not yet learned compassion shoot one of us for fun, that poor creature drags itself to me. I hold it to my bosom as it passes away. I return it to the moss, let it decay sheltered in my shadow.

We have always lived in this forest. We came from the earth, and when all is over, we will return to the earth.

Words by Elise Peyrat