"Mein Gott!"
"Lord Kraus! Wilhelm,
help me
!"
"Bernhardt, no!"
Wilhelm Kraus spun in the saddle, trying to keep a grip on his man's hand. The vines that had encircled Bernhardt and his other men-at-arms were grotesque and clinging. Diseased-looking, green flesh with thorns as long as Wilhelm's little finger were twining swiftly around their limbs. He watched in horror as one of the vines tangled around Bernhardt's upper arm and pulsed, then ripped away in a spiral of crimson. The creeper whipped back, thorns spraying the foliage with dark blood. Bernhardt was screaming, his ruined arm dangling horribly. Wilhelm was sure that he could see bone under the wash of streaming gore.
"What deviltry is this?" he cried at the silent forest.
His sword was in his hand, but there were no real targets. He tried to cut away at the vines already entangled in Bernhardt's bridle and legs, but whenever he got close enough to make a sure cut, the living plant would shift and pulse, ripping away at armor, wool and the flesh underneath. They had entered this bizarre wood just before twilight, and as soon as the glow of the evening sun disappeared from the branches, they had been assailed by animated vines. Wilhelm was screaming his hatred at the unholy forest, cutting at any vine that snapped closer to Bernhardt. He had given his other men up for dead. They were either too far away to help, or already gurgling on the loam. After seeing the abomination strip his arm to the bone, Bernhardt had slumped in the saddle.
"Come at me, you hellspawn!" Wilhelm screamed into the night.
The creepers had not even come close to him or his mount, who was growing increasingly harder to control. The stallion was battle-trained and experienced, but something unnatural and evil was about, permeating the night with malice. Wilhelm swung his sword crazily above his head, trying to intercept a streaming tendril heading for Bernhardt's unarmored face. Just then, his horse bucked in panic, throwing him wide-eyed into the air. Time slowed for Wilhelm as his mouth opened in a wide circle of shock. His arms pin wheeled as his steed sprinted away, churning up the dirt and fallen leaves underneath him. With a solid thunk that took the breath from his lungs, Wilhelm landed heavily on the ground. His head cracked against a rock, helm not able to fully absorb the blow. As the world grew black and hazy, Wilhelm saw four of the vines waving lazily above him, spiraling him sickly down into darkness.
§
He came to with a start, jerking upright suddenly. Wilhelm heard a roaring scream, the sound of a man being torn apart by ravenous wolves. When he shut his mouth with a click of teeth, he realized that the scream had been his own. Looking about, he saw devastation. Ruined corpses steamed in the cool night air, while the forest itself loomed over him, leaves and debris scattered chaotically around the tableau. The horses were barely recognizable, their flanks shredded and large chunks missing where there should have been muscle and bone and flesh. He couldn't bear to look at his men for long, their humanity stripped as much as themselves, grisly husks that had once been human. Wilhelm stood unsteadily, wishing he had a torch, a light, anything to push back the gloom.
In the distance, a keening wail issued, joined swiftly by another and another. This time, Wilhelm knew that those sounds were not his own, of his body or his mind. The depraved sound was something that rocked him to the core. In his life until now, he had been a strong and devout Christian knight, a man who feared no evil, no unholy menace. After watching his men torn apart around him by living vines, Wilhelm was scared in a way he never realized he could be. The wicked howling ceased abruptly, replaced by forlorn laughter, full of sadness and totally lacking in mirth. The sound reminded him of a woman he had come upon once, holding her dead son in her arms as she laughed and screamed, the sound so completely contrary to what Wilhelm knew. It was a horrible thing to bear witness to, and he had blocked that from his mind in subsequent years, until it came clawing to the surface of his thoughts in this forsaken wood.
He took stock of his body slowly, his brain accounting for and assessing each muscle and sinew. His armor was all in place still, helm a bit askew, but otherwise firmly attached. He was covered in dirt, dried blood and a black substance that seethed with wicked malevolence. Wilhelm lunged over to the nearest spot of loam that had not been affected by the slaughter and grabbed up huge handfuls of brush and leaves. He began frantically rubbing them against his armor, trying to get the cloying stains to leave the previously shining steel. When he finally calmed down, he realized that he had removed most of the gore and his armor had resumed a semi-normal sheen. Jerking in realization, he thrust the leaves away from him, dropping them to the ground where the seething blackness could no longer infect him.
Wilhelm looked around, gauging his chances in the eerie forest. The vines that had massacred his men had seemed to have no care for him, the first time they had even approached him was to wave over his body after he had been thrown from his horse. The trees were thick and jagged, limbs heavy with their summer greenery. As he snatched up his sword, he saw a wolf slink out of the tree line directly before him. The beast was huge, haunches heavy and muscular. Wilhelm crouched, brandishing his weapon as the animal's lips peeled back from jutting teeth. It snarled in fury, the sound like the crack of thunder following a blazing bolt of lightning. Wilhelm back away, watching warily as the wolf stalked closer. It paused near Bernhardt, sniffing at the man's body. Without another glance his way, the sharp teeth tore into his man's neck, ripping bits of flesh away from the already ruined corpse.
Wilhelm fell to his knees, heaving and choking. He didn't vomit, but his stomach felt like it was trying to leap through his throat. He stared at his hands, fists pressed into the forest floor.
"Dear God, my Lord in Heaven," he began, hardly able to force the words past his lips. "My God, please protect your servant from this profane place. I beseech you, deliver me from this evil!"
As he uttered the last word of his frantic prayer, Wilhelm saw an explosion of white in the sky, through the heavy branches. The wolf looked up, regarding him in the flash of light. As the brightness faded, the wolf went back to work, gnawing at Bernhardt's cheek. Wilhelm stood, feeling that the light was a sign, that God was with him, despite his terrible surroundings. From the north, he heard the keening begin again and this time, he set out toward it. He left the wolf, knowing that his men's souls were in Heaven, with the devout and virtuous. The husks of their flesh were just shells, no more their essence than a rock or a hare. He staggered through the trees, freeing a water skin from his belt and squirting the liquid in a stream into his mouth. The cool, soothing water was almost more of a balm than the flash of light had been.
Wilhelm pushed past gnarled branches and darkened hollows, his eyes straight ahead. He saw things moving on the edges of his vision, but resolutely refused to look directly at them. If something were to approach within striking distance, he would end it righteously, but he was content to dismiss the ungodly creatures if they did not attack. He felt that something was drawing him, pulling him forward, deeper into the thick trees. Wilhelm thought of his wife, Elise, and their young son. If he wasn't able to survive this test, who would take care of her? Her beautiful, dark face burst into his mind, like a vision of rapture. Bright, blue eyes set above high cheekbones and thin cheeks, her face forming a perfect heart shape. Her hair was lustrous and black, shining with health and vigor. He saw her lips, touched them with his thumb. As the digit made contact, the vision burst into fragmented pieces, blowing away the image.
His shoulders hitching with emotion, tears streamed silently down Wilhelm's cheeks. He pounded through the thick foliage, his sword slicing vines, branches and brush from his path. Just when his sword arm began to grow heavy and hard to lift, Wilhelm broke out of the dense woods. Before him, a moonlit clearing, acres in depth, spread out in a huge circle of rolling grass. In the center, there was a house, after a fashion. The building had once been large but now was a ruin, walls shattered by time and the elements. He could see that some of the compound had survived, lights beaconing him from the unkempt place. Wilhelm crossed himself and began his slow approach.
When the dismal laughter began again, he realized that he hadn't heard the wails or this unique sound for quite some time. He was halfway across the field when a figure burst from a gap in the wall. He couldn't tell if it was a man or woman, the body was hunched and held awkwardly, like it had been maimed and never fully recovered. Raven hair full of brambles and twigs covered the figure's face, accoutrements of various animal parts making up a weird costume. He stared at the open mouth of a disembodied wolf's head attached to the shoulder of the thing approaching him. Its hand shot out when it was mere yards away, spearing him with an accusatory index finger.
"Wilhelm Kraus, Lord Knight of Anhalt, Defender of God's Light," the shrill voice was that of a woman, more like a hag. He couldn't see her clearly, but felt that she must be ancient. "By what right do you trespass in this place?"
"As you yourself have stated, I am a Lord Knight of Anhalt, war leader of his Highness' armies and devout servant of our Lord God. I need no more right to go where I please," he responded, the zealousness of his belief present in his intonation.
"You are nothing!"
Wilhelm spun at this new voice, another hag had approached unseen on his left. He raised his sword, gripping the hilt with white knuckles.
