The Grove: Where the Blue Flower Grows

 

THE GROVE:

Where the blue flower grows

I am not an old man, far from it in fact, but I have seen things in my short life that would make a twice older man cry like an infant. It is for many reasons that I have, for the past ten years of my life, sought solitude, far from the prying eyes of my so called “brethren”. Wondering about the countryside, I fancied myself a sort of modern day hermit. But one day I came upon a place so perfect, so filled with that same wonder I used to feel in the olden times, the times where my beloved and I were together on this earth, that I had to stay. Money not being a problem, my parents had left me a significant sum upon their deaths, money that until now lay in a bank vault somewhere back in civilization, I decided to construct a haunt, a reclusedom, if you will, where I could live out the rest of my life in peaceful solitude among those seemingly mystical trees.

With the necessary arrangements having been made, I watched as the house of my dreams, or so I thought, was constructed. The building and furnishing of the house took less than a year. The house was not big, as I was to be the only inhabitant. It had a small, but splendid atrium, leading on either side into a short glass hallway. The eastern of these two glass halls leads to the most splendid, but utterly useless large formal dining room, connected on its northern end to a slightly offset smaller, quainter dining area. To the west of this quainter dining area is attached a kitchen, slightly offset from the dining rooms, so that the three rooms create a sort of diagonal. The western glass hall leads directly into my bedroom, which I connected to the northern study. Ah’ what a magnificent study it is, the far wall is solid glass lattice, with the two parallel walls being divided equally between glass lattice and stone, the sun shines in brightly in the morrow, the stone walls are covered in book shelves, each one filled with books of every shape and size, vines grow up the glass lattice as if nature and civilization were at last at peace (in this room anyway). In the natural space between the western and eastern wings of the house, I had in mind to plant a spectacular garden.

It had to have been one of the first afternoons in the house that I found myself in need of fresh air, putting on my hat and grabbing my cane, I proceeded to walk into the interior garden. I made certain to watch my step, as not to crush any of the newly cultivated plants, as it would not be easy to replace them on account of the distance of the house from civilization. I walked from the cultivated landscape of the garden into the wildness of the dark forest.

Ancient trees overhung with heavy leaves obscured any sort of path, so I proceeded to wonder among them until I came to a small stream. The stream, full of crystal clear water, seemed to run partially above ground and partially underneath the ground. Here and there a small portion of the stream was visible. How curious this was, I bent down to examine the stream more closely. Then something caught my eye. A sprig of blue among the brown, gray, and green of the forest floor. I turned. Ah’ it was beautiful, a perfect blue flower. As I examined it further, it seemed to glow in the sylvan twilight. How strange and yet wonderful it was, I was resolved to run back to the house and return with a shovel, with which I would dig up the curious flower and transplant it into my garden.

Upon my return, I found the flower just as I left it, seemingly glowing in the darkness of the overhanging trees. I carefully dug the flower from its place of birth and carried it back to the interior garden where I replanted it in a place of prominence, for it was so spectacular to me, I felt it deserved a special place in the garden. 

By this time, the sun had become obscured by the trees and darkness was falling fast. I tugged on the chain that kept my watch in my waistcoat pocket and glanced at it. Resolving that it was time for supper, I walked through the garden and back inside my house.

I took my supper into my study, bypassing the two dining rooms, and sat down in a very comfortable arm chair. Placing my tray of food on a small table next to the chair, I rose, and found myself a crystal glass and poured myself some scotch. Glass in hand; I walked among the tall bookshelves looking for a good read for that evening. My eyes rested on several old favorites before I resolved to pull one from the shelf and set to reading.

 I read until nightfall, breaking intermittently to take a bit of food or a sip of scotch. Once night had fallen, I lit myself a candle to continue reading by. I read until my eyes were overcome with sleep. Taking my candle, I replaced the book on the shelve and walked the short distance to my bedroom.

Putting on my sleep clothes, I looked out the window into the garden. The crystalline blue of the flower was visible even in the pitch blackness of the night. What a curious little flower it was, I thought I a snuffed the candle and drifted off the sleep.

I awoke with a start; something had jostled me from the quiet sleep. I lay in bed, I could not move, as if a band of angry sprites was holding me down. The only part of me I could move were my eyes, they drifted back and forth across the ceiling, my ears straining to hear that noise again, the noise that had ripped me from my sleep so.

            And then, as if I had spoken my silent wish aloud, I heard something. It sounded like the padding of large feet in the interior garden. The sound thrilled me. My muscles tensed and I could not breathe. The sound came again, only this time it seemed louder than before. The darkness seemed to smother me as I listened. My eyes straining to see out the window and then, nothing.

 I could move again. The fear that had gripped me seemed to subside slightly as I got up slowly from my bed. I neglected to light a candle, for if there were someone, or something out in the interior garden, I did not want to attract its attention. I walked slowly to the window, my feet sliding across the icy floor. When I reached the window, I put my hand to it and peered into the darkness of the interior garden. I could see nothing.

There seemed to be nothing there, yet I could have sworn I had heard something moving about outside. The only sound I could hear now was my own breathing; it was heavy and fogged the glass. I retreated from the window and moved back to my bed. It was very late, that, or very early and my body demanded that I sleep. I drifted again.

The next morning rose and I, having not forgotten the events of the previous night, decided to examine the interior garden for any signs of the person or animal that made the noise in the dark. I wondered out with my sleep clothes still on. There was nothing strange about the place at first glance; everything seemed to be in order. There were neither pots over turned nor any tools missing. I was beginning to come to the conclusion that I had dreamt the entire event until I came to my mysterious glowing blue flower, there was something indented in the soft ground at the base of its stem. It looked like the impression of a fisted hand, that, or some sort of animal’s muzzle. I thought came to me that, just as I had seen the flower glowing in the dark, some local animal must too have saw it glowing and come in to investigate. Yes, that makes sense.

With my fears having been subsided, I ventured inside the house to make my breakfast.

            After breakfast, my desire to further explore the forest beyond that strange steam overpowered me. Taking my hat and cane, I packed myself a small amount of bread and cheese, and took to walking. The sun was still not at its height and as my watch told me, it was 10:30 in the morning.

I walked on through the ancient trees past that strange half subterranean stream. As I walked, the foliage seemed to grow denser. The heavy leaves obscured the sun, plunging the landscape into darkness. Never the less, I walked on.

I walked for about an hour, stooping occasionally to examine one of the many mushrooms that littered the forest floor, until I arrived in some sort of open grove. The tree here were massive, yet their leaves left a clear space in the canopy through which the sun’s light shown. The trees formed a rough circle, with a large bolder in the grass covered centre.

This bolder, I thought, would make a suitable table for my lunch. Sitting down atop it, I opened my pack and removed the bread and cheese. As I set to eating, I looked around the strange grove. It soon came to me that the sun’s light was not the only thing illuminating the grove. All about me grew those same strange glowing blue flowers, such as the one I had planted in the interior garden. How strange I thought. I took a piece of cheese into my mouth, but just as quickly if fell from my lips.

In my preoccupation with those strange blue flowers, I neglected to notice I was not alone in the grove. For a short distance from the bolder on which I sat, stood the most beautiful, pale girl I had ever seen. At first my heart gave a flutter, then the thought came to me that I must be dreaming, the hike to this strange grove must surely have taken a lot out of me, but as her face came well into the light, I was certain I was not mistaken in my hearts initial feeling. For there, in front of me, for the first time in ten years, I gazed upon the face of my long departed beloved.

I heart kept me frozen in that spot, my mouth hanging open, the piece of cheese lying somewhere on the ground, and my beloved standing in front of me. The shock of seeing her again wore off and I, forgetting my hunger entirely, ran to meet her.

“My beloved” said I “oh’ my sweet love, how I’ve missed you”

I reached out to embrace her, to make her feel the love I have felt from the past ten years, but when the bare flesh of my arms touched her, they felt neither cold nor heat. I stepped back a slight. Now that I was closer to her, I noticed how truly pale she looked, her once bright eyes were now overhung with shadow, her lips had lost the luster of life, she neither frowned nor smiled.

“Darling, what is going on? How have you escaped that forbidden prison we humans call death?”

She said nothing, but, looking straight into my eyes, gave me a long passionate kiss. Her lips had the same feeling as the rest of her, neither cold nor warm, but were as soft as the day she died in my arms those ten years ago. I must have had a quizzical look upon my face, for she spoke for the first time since I buried her long ago. Yet when she spoke, it was as if her voice came from all around me, emanating from the ancient trees in opposition to her lips.

“My sweet, it’s been so long” she said slowly, barely moving her lips at all.

“It has, oh my gosh, it has” I embraced her and put my head upon her shoulder “but how...how have you…?”

“Never mind that” she said placing her hand on my cheek

We talked for what seemed like ages, every once and a while stopping to kiss each other passionately. I had forgotten my hunger, the sun fell in the sky, and it had almost reached the tree tops.

It was at this point my beloved took her eyes from me for the first time since our reuniting in that strange grove illuminated by those strange blue flowers. She looked deep into the setting sun.

“I have to go now love” she said softly

“What” said I not wanting her to go “but darling, you’ve only just been here, you’ve only just seen me, I’ve waited ten years to see you again, and all the time you can spare is a few hours?”

“Understand love, it is not my choice, when I must go, I must go”

She dropped her arms from mine and started toward the place in the grove were she first appeared to me.

“Wait, please darling, wait” I clambered after her, as I reached her, I noticed her pale form starting to grow dim “will I ever see you again, here on this earth, before I cross over myself?”

She turned and looked deep into my soul, her form still drifting dimmer and dimmer “I will try and return to you love, if I can manage it”

With that, she was gone.

            I stood there where she had vanished, tears falling from my eyes. I felt as though I had lost her again to that reaper of souls, that evil thing that haunts the world, looking for those whose time has come, or in the case of my beloved, not. I stood there on that spot until the coldness and darkness of the night took its toll on me. I resolved that I should return to the house.

I had forgotten my pack of bread and cheese in the grove. But it was far too dark and my mind and heart far too filled with emotion for me to even consider returning to that place for the simple reason of retrieving my pack of food. I stumbled over rocks and tree roots on my way back to my house, I could see the faint glow of my strange blue flower ahead of me, I followed it.

I approached the house, but immediately noticed something standing in the garden, in front of the blue flower. I recognized, in the darkness of the night, what looked like a hind flank of a horse.

I had almost reached the door that lead from the interior garden into my study when the creature turned and looked straight at me. At this time, I noticed that it was not any kind of horse I had ever seen. Sure, its body looked like that of a horse, brown and bulky, but it was the head that convinced me otherwise. It was horribly deformed, with teeth jutting out in all directions, its eyes were small and appeared reddish in the darkness, and from its head, where its ears should have been but weren’t, two massive straight horns pointed up towards the heavens. I looked down at its hooves, only to find what looked like massive paws there instead. The thing looked at me, gave a horrid shriek toward the heavens and rushed towards me.

Fear flooded into me as I saw the thing charge. I immediately threw open the door and scrabbled inside, bolting it behind me. From there, I ran into my bedroom and too bolting the door. I looked out the window at the huge black mass of the creature; it looked like the horse the devil would have ridden into town.

In the darkness, the horse-creature must have lost me. I watched as it searched around for a bit until it retreated into the darkness of the forest. I fell back from the window onto my bed.

Sleep overlooked me that night. The terror of the memory of the horse-creature and the sorrow and misery of seeing my beloved again would have made it impossible for any man to sleep. I simple lied in bed, listening to every sound in the interior garden and praying, praying I would be able to see my beloved again.

For the next three days, I did little but sleep and read, I had not forgotten the events of the previous night, but my constant state of both fear and misery didn’t allow me to do much else. I scarily ate; instead I began taking larger and larger quantities of scotch. Eventually, hunger overpowered me and I left my room in search of the kitchen.

            I found myself some bread and gnawed at it hungrily. With my hunger having been subsided, I felt the double pangs of misery and fear begin to disappear; the chains that kept me immobile these past three days seemed to fall away from my body, being replaced with longing, longing for my beloved. I thought to myself, what if she had come to visit me each of these three days, but I, too filled with terror, neglected to meet her? I resolved to go in search of that mysterious grove once more.

            Leaving my hat and exchanging my cane for a shot gun (for added protection), I slowly opened the door to the interior garden. It was raining heavily. I didn’t believe I would find anything, but the sight of the empty garden relaxed me somewhat.

As I walked through the interior garden, my eye caught sight of a shimmer of blue, I turned, it was my strange blue flower, still in the same place it was when I planted it many days before, but there was something odd in addition to its strange glowing. The same large single flower that had attracted my eye so long ago in the dark forest had not faded nor fallen away; in fact, it looked exactly the same as it did when I first transplanted it, now splashed with rain. I knelt beside it on the rain soaked earth and touched it lightly, what a strange little flower it was, I thought.

Resolving to examine the flower with more prolonged scrutiny upon my return, I set off into the forest, the rain falling fast and hard upon my head. I allowed what little fear still clung to my heart take advantage of me at this point. Raising my shot gun, I allowed it to lead the way through those dark and ancient trees.

I crossed that same strange stream and walked on slowly, each sound sent a shiver down my spine. For every snap of a twig, every rustle of leaves, every raindrop falling, could be the sound of that horrible horse-creature approaching. Then I heard it, fear gripped my heart as I turn and fired my gun blinding into the surrounding foliage. The sound deafened me. As I looked there was something brown and red lying on the ground, upon further investigate, I determined it to be a squirrel not the monster.

My heart was pounding in my ears as I walked on until I found that mysterious and magical grove. As I entered the grove, the steady feeling of rain drops on my head changed slightly. The rain appeared as if it had gotten thicker. Then I felt something dripping down forehead, I reached up to wipe it off, it was sticky and scarlet, it was blood. How strange this was, I thought, I had neither cut nor scraped my head along my journey, then it hit me, the blood had not come from my head, oh no, the blood had come from the sky. Looking up I found, to my surprise, that clear raindrops had been replaced by scarlet drops of blood.

            The blood-rain covered everything. Never the less, I resolved to wait in the grove for my beloved. Sitting down on the blood soaked boulder, I waited until nightfall. The blood-rain had stopped falling; everything was still in the grove. The glowing blue flowers tinged with scarlet blood illuminated the grove with a strange light. Once darkness had fallen, I resolved that my beloved would not come to me.

            I left the grove that evening in a sort of daze, my mind full of confusion. Nothing made sense anymore, nothing did. All that I had been told, all I had been taught about the nature of the world was half decomposed in front of my eyes. Sure, my beloved had visited me only days before, but today, there was nothing. Had I dreamt the entire encounter? If I had, which seemed to make the most sense, then what about the strange glowing flower? And what about that horrible creature I had seen wondering about in the interior garden. The thought filled me with terror.

            I raised my shot gun as I wondered through the dark forest, I could see nothing, scarce the distant glow of my strange blue flower in the distance. Then, suddenly, I heard something; I stopped and turned slowly around. I could see nothing but my instinct told me there was something there in the darkness. I pointed my gun in the direction of the sound.

            In the darkness, something bumped me; I turned and fired the gun into the night. In the split second the forest was illuminated with the gun fire, I could see, in front of me, the dark bulky mass of the horse-creature.

            I took off running without a second thought, over the fallen trees and across the half subterranean stream, the horrible foot falls of the horse-creature racing after me, I ran, ran as fast as I could, following the soft blue glow of my strange flower, the soft blue light that illuminated my interior garden, safety, I could hear the creatures massive paws gaining ground on me as I ran though the ancient trees, once I cleared the last of the trees I made a mad dash to my study door, just before I reached it, I turned and looked behind me, to my unspeakable horror, not one, but some immeasurable number of horse-creatures were hot in pursuit. I threw open the door and bolted it, not stopping, I ran through the dark study and through the door to my bedroom, I bolted that.

I had no time to catch my breath, I could hear those horrible horse-creatures scratching and ramming at the glass walls of the study, then it happened, I heard that horrible sound of breaking glass, those things were breaking into the house. Before long I heard them scratching and ramming at the door to my bedroom. I knelt of the opposite side of the bed from the door, with my shot gun on the bed facing the door, when the first creature broke though; I fired at it, striking it in the face. To my horror, instead of falling to the ground dead, the horse-creature stayed upright, my shot had not been lethal.

            I ran from my bed to the door that lead into the short hallway, opened it, and ran through the atrium into that useless large formal dining room. There I stopped and bolted the door, I pushed the heavy oak table in front of the door and fell against the wall, my heart pounding with fear.

            It didn’t take long before I heard the sound of scratching and ramming from the other side of the room, those monsters were trying to enter through the kitchen. I ran to that door and bolted it, then pushed a heavy cabinet of plates and silverware in front of it.

            Before long the sound of scratching and ramming filled the room. I lit a candle and sat in the corner farthest from both entrance ways. In my hast to leave my bedroom, I had left my shot gun, the only protection I had was a large butchers knife I found in the cabinet.

            I sat there in the half light for what seemed like hours, the creatures ramming at the doors, trying to get in. I didn’t understand it, what were these monsters? What did they want with me?

            Then, to my horror, the door gave way and the torrent of horse-creatures flooded in. they surrounded me, in the light from my candle, I could see the one I shot, its face had been completely mangled. Chunks of flesh had been ripped from its face, one of its eyes was missing, and the other hung from its muscle from the socket. The bone had been blown away; I could see the mushy grey of the monsters brain.

            I fell to my knees and vomited, if the creature could not be killed with a shot gun blast to the face, what was my little knife going to do? Nothing. I had to do something, the horse creatures were closing in, and then the thought came to me. I lifted the heavy blade of the butchers’ knife to my throat.

            “I love you dear” I said.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Pester D. Finches]

thank you

[veronica.voodoo]

wow, the ending was not how i expected it at all, but that being said, i have to admit, this was a really great piece of work. your imagery is incredible and extremely vivid; the only criticism i have is that i have no idea what the horse like monsters are or what they may represent or anything at all. But maybe that's what you were going for when you wrote this; either way, this is an awesome story that is sure to give me nightmares now. :]