Forest Cursed

It was the boy's thirteenth birthday party, an ominous year of his life to be sure-- but also the most significant event that would ever befall him. The boy grew up in a small town, an ordinary young tyke in his days. Neither extremely smart nor very stupid. The citizens in his town looked after him, as he did not have a family. They were a good people, kind hearted and strong willed. They raised him well.

On his thirteenth birthday party, the boys he called his friends dared him to brave the perils of the haunted hills beyond the crystal creek that flowed on the south side of town. Every person in town avoided these hills, as horrors beyond belief were said to live there. Local legends talked of monsters, demons, ghosts and ghouls appearing on the outskirts of town from time to time. Always they disappeared into the mists of the forlorn forests that covered those hills.

The boy, known to the locals as Tag, took up this challenge with much gusto. He was a brave, if foolish young man, and wished to prove himself to the world as a daring explorer. That morning Tag left on his great adventure. His friends watched him cross the creek, and wander into the dark forest.

Tag, following what could barely pass as a path, grew apprehensive as he approached the forest. Massive blackened trunks of trees twisted more than reached into the sky, their grandeur disrupted by knots as large as Tag’s head dotting them, many with striking resemblances to heads screaming in agony. No wind blew, yet the branches almost seemed to sway, burdened as they were by great moss covered vines nearly choking out everything else. To Tag the forest line seemed as a wall blocking his passage. The path led up to a slight break in the foliage that to the life of him, seemed a great crevice in a looming mountain. Not even an insect dared break the silence that hovered over the dark forest.

Crossing into the woods was like entering a cave, very little light shone through the thick canopy of seemingly dead trees, choking vines and great, furry moss. No birds chirped, no crickets chirruped, nor did any squirrels skitter and scatter about. It was as if the forest itself held its breath in shock of the daring of its trespasser. Tag merely gulped and hesitantly strode into the forest, mustering as much courage as he could, yet still poised for flight at the slightest sight of danger. Tag followed the path for hours, but to him it seemed as if days had passed.

Tag passed looming trees, stagnant pools, beds of moss, towering mushrooms twice the height of a man and even skeletons of what could only have been great shrubbery. Eventually he came upon a clearing full of bright green grass, sunlight streaming through a break in the foliage. In the center of the clearing stood a smooth mound of a rock, and perched perfectly on the top was the most beautiful naked girl he had ever seen. Tag, properly raised and quite the gentleman averted his eyes to prevent the embarrassment of the lady on the rock. Secretly avoiding his own embarrassment. She seemed not to notice him at first, deigning to stare at some point above his head, staring at some imaginary vision of compelling nature. Tag waited.

After what seemed like hours, the girl seemed to notice Tag, and greeted him. "Greetings, young Tag" she said.