The Evil Things

Suddenly, she appeared there. . . thrust from the womb of a tree, reborn into a strange land. It was not the first time she had survived this experience, but something within her was uncertain if it would be the last.

The air was alive with the squeals of tiny animals communicating through the shadowy foliage, warning all others of her arrival. She knew her welcome would be short, it was all part of the natural way of things, but she also knew her life was in danger.

Something crawled across the skin of her back trying to escape the maze of fabric that held it captive. She screamed and danced in circles, beating herself as if a fire had ignited beneath her clothing. Then. . . it was gone. It fell through an opening in her blouse and scurried away.  She could hear laughter as the evil things watched her.

“Laugh now, before I silence your sounds!” she said into the air, “You know why I have come here again. I must save the world from your wickedness!” She reached down and picked up a twisted branch, breaking off a piece here and a piece there until her walking stick was formed. “Show yourselves, so I can look into your eyes before I destroy you!”

Silence surrounded her. “Cowards!” She waved her walking stick like a scythe, clearing a path to nowhere. “You must allow me to see you!”  Her eyes darted from side to side, searching for any sign of movement. “There is no chance for escape!  I will not go until you stand before me!”

Something rustled in a pile of leaves a short distance away. She pulled in her breath and held it there.  Another sound from above trickled down to her ears like a gentle rain, then another sound and another and another until the noise of the gathering evil things overwhelmed her and she cried out in pain. The moment she had been anticipating all of her life was finally. . . the here and the now.  She dropped to her knees.

The evil things gathered around her, one by one, revealing themselves to their human creator. Suddenly, the awareness of her own comatose condition in earthly reality matched her current otherworldly dream. They were not evil things at all, she had created them as a means to keep her spirit alive. . . her body was being removed from life support.

She was dying and her finale thoughts had written a story of great importance to fight the forest creatures to save mankind, a reason to still be needed. It was a battle between the body and the mind, an unrelenting determination to continue on. “Brilliant!” she thought.

A beautiful calm overcame her and she whispered softy, “My fight has been in vain. Yet, all of you have tolerated my madness.” She smiled, then reached out and touched the white fur of one of her creatures. It was soft and smooth and filtered through her fingers like every wonderful human sensation she had ever known. She closed her eyes and realized there was only one breath left to use.


The Evil Things — 4 Comments

  1. Maybe I missed something, but I didn’t end up with the feeling that she was a horrid person. That final line was very powerful and wrapped the story up perfectly. Very well done, Steve.

    • Yes you missed something Marc. Before I posted this, Kristine had asked if it was about her. I said no (for obvious reasons.) but told her the woman in the story created evil things.

  2. should i just start calling u steven king? u never cease to amaze me with your words – descriptive, elaborate, witty and often dark! bravo! and u don’t mind if we repost these? if we do can our friends also get to this blog and read all your stories (and play with your bitch?) thanks for my daily dose – sue

    • Often dark?!!! lol I seem to be on a roll these days. Of course you can share my blog posts…to anyone, anywhere. What good is a story if no one reads it? 🙂

      Plus,my bitch likes attention.

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