I’ve always been scared of trees at night.
But those are just childhood fears.
Aren’t they?
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(c) 2024 Simon Goodson.
Story Disclaimer
Deadwood
I’ve always been scared of trees. Right from when I was a young kid. Not so much in the daylight, but at night… at night the glimpses of trees as we shot past them in the car and the headlights lit them up were terrifying. But worse was knowing they were still there, right beside us, after the headlights swept past.
I’m not sure where the fear comes from. I remember a book, Hansel and Gretel I guess, about kids escaping from a witch. A picture where they were fleeing through a dark wood. In that picture all the trees had eyes and teeth, and it scared me every time I saw it.
Maybe that started it. Or maybe it was the fact we lived out in the countryside, so in the winter almost every journey involved driving past woods and forests, the trees looking twisted and evil in the headlights, and far worse in my imagination once out of the light.
Trees haunted my dreams… no, they haunted my nightmares. I had many which involved being hunted by gigantic trees while lost in dark forests. Dreams where I knew I was being toyed with. Nightmares with a primal fear that these mighty and ancient creatures would hunt me down and tear me apart.
As I got older I shut those fears down, but they never truly left me. Not helped by the opening three minutes of a horror film I watched once in my teens. I can’t even remember which of the many horror series it belonged to, but I remember it started with a huge and evil tree in the garden near the house. I don’t know what happened after that. That’s where I stopped watching, never to start again.
The fear returned the first night when I moved into a new home. Sleeping on a mattress on the floor, of course, because putting beds together is never a day one activity. Nor is putting up curtains. It was only as I went to lay down that I glanced out the window and realised the new house had several large trees at the back of the short garden.
That shouldn’t have been scary. They were tall, spindly things, not evergreens but not mighty spreading oaks either. But the sight drove a chill into my heart and led to me covering the window with large flattened cardboard boxes. Even then, I didn’t sleep well that night, or for several after. Eventually, I learnt to ignore those trees, but I was never comfortable.
Years went by. I grew older, but still the fear stayed buried within me, waiting to spring out. Occasionally I joked about it with friends, as a childish fear I’d outgrown, but I knew I hadn’t. Now I was the one driving the car past trees and woods at night, I was the one in charge of the headlights, and I was the one petrified my car might break down. That I might be stuck there amongst towering figures of nightmare.
Eventually I spoke to someone about it. I’m pretty sure the amount of alcohol I’d enjoyed that night had something to do with it. They took it semi-seriously. I could tell they found it slightly amusing, but they didn’t outright laugh at me.
They managed to get out of me just how much it was affecting my life. I’d started avoiding travelling through the winter, other than sticking to the city I now lived in. It even affected me visiting my parents, who lived out in the countryside still. In the summer everything was fine. I could visit and be away well before it got dark. But in the winter… in the winter driving past dark woods was almost impossible to avoid out there, so I rarely went.
My friend told me what I needed to do. He told me I knew deep down there was no real danger, that the trees were not alive. Not in that way. He said the best way to prove it to myself was to go camping in a forest. On my own. Spend the night there, face my fears, and when the morning came I would finally be rid of them.
Like all truly terrible ideas, it sounded flawless with a head buzzing from alcohol!
***
So here I am. In a forest. It’s something like midnight. There are no stars. No moon. It’s a dark night, heavy clouds above but with no rain in them. I’m some distance from where I camped because that same friend suggested I go for a walk with a torch to help me face my fears. My heart is hammering, my breath is wheezing in my chest, and I am absolutely terrified!
Face my fears? I’ve certainly done that. The problem is, it turns out my fears were spot-on! The trees are alive in that way I’d always thought! They’re alive, and they’re hunting me.
Not all the trees, thank the stars! Not even most of them. But some. And it’s almost impossible to tell them from normal trees until they move.
They don’t look like cartoon versions of tree men. Not like the Ents from Lord of the rings. They have no faces. No eyes. They’re not humanoid at all, just terribly treelike. Trees that move. Fast.
Monstrous creatures. I’ve not caught more than glimpses of them from my flash-light, but that’s been enough to almost freeze me in terror. And the noise… I can’t even begin to describe the harrowing sound they make.
And the worst of it? They’re playing with me. They’re fast. So much faster than me. They’re more than capable of hurting me, too. Several times one of them has swatted me and sent me tumbling across the ground. They have so much strength, but I know they’ve been careful with their blows. They haven’t broken any of my bones. They haven’t left me unable to run. Because that is where their fun comes from.
They’ve done this before. I have no doubt they’ve done this before. And if their lifespans are like the mighty trees they resemble then they may have been doing this for hundreds of years.
I force herself up and start moving. I can hear one of them crashing through the undergrowth to my left. I could turn the torch and see it, most likely, but why bother? Instead, I keep moving. It’s more a stagger how than a real run. The ground is uneven, and even the trees which don’t seem to be up and hunting me can easily snag my feet with their roots.
I run, desperately trying to get back to my camp. Back to my car. Back to salvation. If I get in the car and start driving I’m sure I can outpace the creatures. The track from here to the main road is half a mile long, but it’s pretty straight. I’m sure I could get up a good speed. Forty miles an hour, maybe fifty. These tree-things are fast, but I’m sure they won’t be as fast as a car. Especially not once I’m on the main road and get my foot flat on the floor.
They know where I’m trying to reach. They keep deflecting me from it. Pushing me off in other directions. They aren’t completely preventing me from heading towards the car, just making me take much more difficult routes. Twice I’ve fallen into ponds full of stinking water and horrible slimy plants. Luckily it’s not that cold tonight, even though I’m dripping wet.
I don’t care. The car. I have to get to the car. I have a tent there as well, with a few things in it, but I will not be pausing for a moment to get those. No. Get to the car. Get in it. Then get the hell out of here!
I spot one of the vicious creatures ahead of me at the last moment, spindly limbs, which I took to be a tree blowing in the wind, suddenly move towards me with lightning speed. I throw myself flat on the ground, feeling the swish of the massive limb swinging just above my head.
Did it know that I was going to dodge? Or was that blow meant to kill me? It was certainly powerful enough. I’m not sure, and it doesn’t matter. I scramble up and rush away from it as quickly as I can.
I don’t know how my heart hasn’t stopped in terror. Every branch, every tree, even every bush has me jumping if it moves in the wind. Sometimes I swear I run past one of the creatures that has chosen to stand still and pretend to be a tree. I hear them move just after I pass them. Or maybe it is just a tree swaying in the wind. I don’t know!
And I don’t know how much more of this I can take. The physical exertion is bad enough, but I can feel my mind coming close to snapping. All those nightmares. Those times I was terrified of trees while my parents drove in the dark. How many of those times were there creatures like these lurking there? How many times did my young mind, not equipped with the filters of adulthood, spot one of these creatures moving and watching?
And were they, even then, aware of me? Patiently marking me as one they would hunt down in time? I don’t know. I just want it all to be over.
More movement at the edges of the torchlight. More running. My legs feel like lead now, my body has started shivering from my water soaked clothes, yet still I force myself on. Things keep tripping me. I’m crawling almost as often as I’m running now. I hear the creatures closing in. I hear more of their cries. They’re getting closer. Closing in around me. I’m not going to make it!
Suddenly my torchlight reflects from something. Something shiny. Something metallic. Something not of the forest. My car! I can’t believe it, but it’s my car! I find a last burst of energy and run towards it, but then my heart sinks.
My car is there, and it’s untouched. But it’s going nowhere. There’s a tree rooted right in front of the front bumper. Another pressing against the back. Which means they aren’t trees. How can they be? Trees don’t move! But the creatures hunting me do.
Yet these two don’t move. Not now. I sense them watching, and I swear I can sense their amusement. All this time they’ve been chasing me. Leading me here. Letting me have a last gasp of hope before ripping it away.
I still stumble forwards. I know the car will offer no safety. Its fragile metal couldn’t possibly stand up to one of those creatures. I was running for it so I could escape, not for any shelter it could offer. Yet still I rush forward, pulling out my keys and unlocking it. I pull open the back door and drag out my talisman.
Yes. A talisman. A symbol of protection. I came here knowing my fears were baseless, but I couldn’t even think of spending the night without bringing that talisman with me.
I created it myself. As I pull it out something hardens within me. The creatures aren’t going to let me live. They’ve toyed with me, and now they’ll kill me. As my talisman comes clear of the car a grim smile settles on my face. The creatures want me dead. Well I’m going to give them a fight!
My talisman. What is it? It’s… a bit of a hybrid. I can sense some confusion from the creatures as I strap it on. Strap it on? Yes! It’s pretty heavy. And powerful. I grab the toggle, press the button, and pull on the cord sharply.
It roars into life. The beautiful sound of a petrol-powered industrial-strength chainsaw. That’s part of the Talisman. Like I said, it’s a bit of a hybrid.
It’s petrol powered from a couple of tanks I now have strapped to my back, so it can run for a long time. And I made some slight adjustments. Some would call them tweaks to the outlet flow nozzle pipeline. Me, I call it adding a home-made flamethrower attachment.
That’s my talisman. An industrial strength chainsaw with a home-made flamethrower attached beneath it. Will it be enough? I don’t know. These creatures are strong. Powerful. Old, callous, and heartless.
But do you know what else they are? Flammable! I prove that as I toast the creature in front of the car, careful not to let the burning liquid anywhere near the car itself. That would be a bad idea.
The creature shrieks and flails as it burns, then the chainsaw changes pitch as it bites into the creature’s lower limbs.
Cries rise around me. The creatures are no longer toying with me. I can hear them rushing in now. Too many of them to fight? Probably. Almost certainly.
But do you know what? I’m no longer scared! Whatever happens now, I will never be scared of trees again. But after tonight I guarantee some of them are going to be terrified of humans!
The End