The Oak Tree

A mysterious tree with a hidden force.

The oak tree stood tall, its roots like rusty chains that haven’t been touched in decades. It isn’t nice to see such a beautiful piece of nature tied up by such a harsh object. Looking at the marks on the tree I can see the harsh winters it had been faced with and the battles it had watched.  Who would do such a thing to the source of life?

I grab the chains and pull in hope that it will come lose, I can’t bear to see this. As I’m pulling an odd smell stars to surround me. Metal. I can smell metal. It doesn’t seem to be coming from the metal chain, it’s coming from the tree.

Pulling harder and harder at the chain I notice that a form of red liquid was oozing out from the cracks in the tree. It’s thick and gloopy, the same texture as maple syrup. There’s something oddly satisfying with the way it looks. I almost want to play with it. 

I gradually move closer and closer to the tree. There are whispers, faint but very strong whispers trying to tell me something. I put my ear close, trying to fully grasp on what they’re trying to tell me. 

“Release us, help us”, they whisper. 

How I ask. 

“Touch, touch touch” they say, I feel almost obliged to do as they say. 

I can sense in the pit of my stomach that something’s not quite right. Standing here trying to save a tree is completely insane. I’m insane.

I can hear faint breathing in the distance and the crunching on leaves under a heavy foot, yet I can’t move myself away from the tree, I feel as if it has me under a compulsion. 

“Who’s there”, I shout, scared that I will get an unwelcoming answer. 

The breathing become louder and louder. 

I can’t look away from the tree, I’m stuck. 

“Someone help me, I can’t move” 

“Of course, you can’t” a mysterious voice says from behind me. 

“Who’s there”, I ask shakily. 

“The tree keeper. Hold on I’ll get you out of this mess” he says calmly. 

I can’t see what he’s doing but he’s playing around with the chain that’s engulfing the tree. I can hear the rattling of chains and the pop of a lock. I must have pulled at the chain so hard that the lock came undone. Whatever he done worked, I can finally look away from the tree. As I did I ran backwards stumbling over a log that laid perfectly on the woodland floor. 

“What was that”, I ask breathing heavily. 

“This tree is not at all what it seems to be”, he stares at me, emotionless. 

I try to reply but nothing came out of my mouth. 

“It will suck out all of the memories of the loved one you possess. It will tear apart your soul into thousands of pieces and take away any emotion that you feel. This tree isn’t just a tree, it is the gateway to hell itself”

“Sorry” I say, this is far too much information for a Monday morning. I wouldn’t have been here, stuck in the middle of this forest if it wasn’t for this darn school trip. 

“If you break the lock on the tree it will open itself to you. The smell fills the air around you and entices you in. First you can’t move, you will feel paralysed. Next your body will go cold and you will struggle to breath. After that you’re dead. The tree takes any living soul it can find.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. This man sounds completely bonkers. 

I stand up and look at the tree and then shake my head.

“Do you know the direction of Longhorn manor?” I ask, in hope I can get away from this nutty old man before he decides to murder me. 

He points left. 

I run.