by Olive Pea
It was August in a small English town, and the melancholy gray sky over the trees had ceased its weeping for just a moment. Four children pleaded to be let outside and their mothers finally shooed them through the doors to play for a while, but not without the usual warnings, “be safe, don’t ruin your clothes, and do not go near the woods”. Within minutes, the four young boys convened at the northern edge of town, gaping up at the wall of trees that seemed to erupt from the ground like knives.
The foolish four knew of the beast in the woods. The teachers and parents warned, the townsfolk whispered, and recently the paper brought news of three missing young men found dead in the woods. But never mind all that. Today these four children were, according to Adam, to become heroes, monster hunters, the stuff of legends. Adam, of course, was the leader, as always. He had gathered the other three around him, forming a sort of square.
“I shall defend you all, as your leader, with my mighty sword!” Adam declared, hoisting his fantastic sword, an old stick, to the gray sky, tossing back his hazel-brown hair with a flourish. Bertie looked up at him in awe, just as he always did. Bertie was Adam’s best friend, 10 years old like Adam but stalkier with fair hair. They were both best friends since before they could remember and spent every day after school at each other’s houses.
The other two boys were younger. Connor and Sean Wallace were 9 and 5 respectively. The brothers had flaming red hair and sparkling blue eyes. They had moved to the town in January from Ireland after their father died. They were mostly quiet, but when they did speak their voices rang with the melodious tones of their homeland.
“I don’t reckon you’re plannin’ on goin’ in there,” Connor said, his bright blue eyes nervously flitting across the forest line. “That’s where the beast is.”
Adam shot him an irritated glance. “That is the plan, we are monster hunters after all. We’re going to find that beast and kill it!”
“But–but they told us not to. It’s dangerous! We could get hurt—”
“Shut up. We’re monster hunters, don’t listen to the old people, they’re looney!!”
“I will go in,” Bertie said loyally.
“Alright then, in we go!” Adam declared.
So, in they went. Three excitedly skipping through the first trees, while one cautiously crept. With Adam leading, sword raised, they stormed through the forest like titans. Past a boulder. Around a pond. Over a fallen tree. Dusk had begun to seize the sky when they finally found the perfect cave. The walls dripped with moisture, leafless vines covered the entrance, and a decrepit tree stood on either side, bent and shriveled with death. Little Sean danced around in a circle and giggled, while Bertie looked at the cave with glee. Connor kept glancing over his shoulder; Adam had a stealed look painted on his face. He held up his mighty sword. Then the sky began to weep again, and they pulled their hoods over their heads.
“What is that?” Connor pointed at a muddy mark on the ground. It looked like a footprint. There were more, leading into the cave.
Adam investigated and announced, “Monster tracks. We’re going in my crew, heave ho!”
Conner did not like this, looked at Adam with a furrowed brow, and said with concern, “if we really have found monster tracks, then I say we should tell the grownups. It’s too dangerous. We could die Adam, we could die!”
Adam laughed. He laughed some more. Then Bertie joined in. Even Sean, aloof, began to giggle. When Adam had finally gained control over his outbursts, he shouted, “we are going in! We are monster hunters, and I shall kill the monster with my sword and rid these lands of this beast!!”
Conner didn’t look so sure of that and said warily, “I’m staying out here.”
“That’s right, you’ll be our guard’” Adam proclaimed. He then turned toward the cave and under his breath muttered, “looney.”
Bertie copied Adam and whispered stupidly, “looney.”
So in they went, except Connor who was stationed just outside the mouth of the cave. All flashlights clicked on at the same time, as was Adam’s orders.
Dark and brooding stood the thing. Its ghastly sunken face loomed 5 feet above their heads, suspended from an unnaturally tall and twisted body like a rotting tree. The thing opened its mouth, revealing a cavern of rows and rows of sharp teeth, and it inhaled with a raspy gurgling sound, sucking out the light of their flashlights. The shadow neared them, and footsteps thundered off of the cave walls. Then the noise abruptly stopped, the tall shadow right before them. Adam screamed and jumped forward, swinging his sword wildly in all directions. Then a piercing shriek came from Bertie, beside him. The monster growled and its footsteps boomed out of the cave. Sean started to cry as moans of agony came from Bertie’s hunched shadow. Adam rushed towards him and dragged him out of the cave, ordering Sean to follow.
Now he could see Bertie’s face; a slash ran across his left eye from his forehead to his left cheek. Adam looked at his mighty sword. Its tip was red with blood, and Adam smiled giddily.
“Look Bertie, I wounded the beast! I sliced at him like a true monster hunter, and scared him away. Now he shall have a great scar to remember me by. Hah!”
Bertie moaned, clutching his ruined eye with both hands.
Connor then rushed from his hiding spot in the bushes towards the three, a look of horror on his pale face.
“It’s comin’ back!! It’s comin’ back, run!!!”
They heard the crashing footsteps quickly nearing them once again. Adam grabbed Bertie’s arm and pulled him while Connor swooped up his little brother into his arms.
Then they became like all things hunted, running breathlessly and numbly; deer leaping over logs, hares bounding amongst the ferns, mice scurrying through the grass. But the thing was fast.
Tears in their eyes, hearts pounding vigorously, legs aching, the boys ran, Adam still pulling Bertie along and Conner carrying Sean. Their clothes tore as the branches and bushes snatched at them like gnarled hands and fingers; the rocks tripped them, making them stumble into muddy puddles that filled their boots; even the wind seemed to be fighting against them as it pelted raindrops in their faces at a slant; nevertheless, they sprinted as fast as they could. Over the fallen tree. Around the pond. Past the boulder. The footsteps subsided, but their fear had not and so they mindlessly continued to flee in panic.
The rain fell like arrows shot from heaven, the inky stain of death from the fallen sun had bled through all remaining daylight, making it difficult to see, but still they stumbled on.
The four finally reached the town. Though lamps were lit the streets were bare. They struggled toward the first house, and pounded on its vivid red door. Exhausted, panting, Adam released Bertie and Connor set Sean on the sheltered porch. The door opened and an elderly man, back bent with age, looked down upon the ragged boys. “You hunted it, didn’t you? Come in you fools! You should have heeded the warnings. You could have lost more than an eye!”
The End
The Lighthouse 