Samhain

the tangled wood is quiet in the dark of night; very little stirs. only distantly can you hear creatures stirring - monsters rousing to prowl the shadows miles away. the rumors you have heard, the horrific tales spread around campfires, whisper at the back of your mind, urging you to turn away and go home to the safety and warmth of your bed. perhaps it is foolishness that drives you to step toward the unspoken boundary between your village's edge and the monsters' realm. perhaps it is that sense of adventure you have never quite managed to shake.

nothing happens with your first footfall. apprehensive, you take another stride. this time, you feel the woods shift, tense. you can't see into the depths of the trees, but you know that you are being watched. you've caught their eye. you breathe in deep of the scent of autumn leaves, of rot, of spice. you hear a beast breathing in time. with a last exhale, you step forward again.

the moment your toes pass the invisible border, the tangled wood seems to explode in motion. a great and hulking thing cloaked in dying leaves and cobwebs and moth-eaten cloth springs at you; the impact of its paws upon your chest makes you cry out, but the breath is knocked from your lungs when you hit the ground. its breath rattles deep in its chest as it leans down, glaring at you with eyes that glow too bright for the shadows to dim. speechless, you go still.

"this is not your home," comes a hoarse voice, one that cracks and breaks with disuse, one that growls low and horrid in your ears. "i will kill you where you stand should you take another step."

you are helpless to do anything but nod - and pray that the beast will let you free.