The Haunts

Because of his inexperience with both swords and other melee weapons, Levy was not an accurate shot. Instead of fleeing, he turned to mindless aggression by hacking as many tree roots as he could with his sword. Bursts of Hellfire and flaming ash exploded into the air as his blade knocked them down, lighting up his surroundings and allowing him to better anticipate the next strike. Almost two hours before sunrise, he arrived at the Hell-born tree’s base and began hacking at it like a furious lumberjack. The monster tree screamed in agony with every blow, lashing out with its roots and thorny branches to protect itself. Although he slashed at the roots or thorny branches, he kept moving on without stopping or slowing down.

And even though his choice of clothing for the fight wasn’t the best choice, he still had his Doc Martin boots and his leather jacket, which turned out to be the only things that offered him any protection against the tree’s counterattack.

Near the end, he drew close and, with his bare hands, tore away at the bark. He quickly noted the tree’s remarkable woody flesh. It was a creature that imitated a tree, but it had organs, and therefore, he quickly assessed, it must also have a heart. So Levy closed his eyes to listen for a heartbeat. Once he located it, he continued to hack away until he uncovered it.

He held the hot, acorn-shaped heart in his blessed hand and then let the light from his palm burn it to ashes.

He smiled, knowing that he had defeated it.

In utter exhaustion, Levy let the dragon-toothed sword slip from his hand and collapsed right where he stood. The sword clattered to the forest floor and reverted to a dagger. A local farmer a few miles away from the commotion had steered his horse-drawn wagon across his field to see what was happening. Once he saw Levy hack the Hell tree to bits, he hurried over to extract the exhausted young man so that he could help tend to the hero’s wounds. Meanwhile, some of the more brave and brazen folk from a nearby town heard such a ruckus, and they appeared with torches, burning oil, and axes just in case it was a lure from the ever-hungry Hell-born tree. But once they all saw what Levy had done, they moved in to destroy what was left of the accursed tree so that it would terrorize no one again.

“W-what’s happening? Where am I?” Levy felt hands loading him onto the back of a wooden wagon. It smelled of fresh-cut wood and straw.

“Hush now,” the farmer’s deep voice soothed Levy’s concern, “you’re in safe hands now; conserve your strength and sleep. You’ve earned it.”

“So that damnable tree...” Levy needed to know, “Is it?”

“You hacked it to pieces, son. But don’t worry about that anymore. The townsfolk will handle the rest from here.”

Levy gave in to his exhaustion and nodded off.

After the adrenaline died away, his body ached. More than he had expected. He had spent many hours hacking away at the monster tree and its offshoot of followers that tried to attack him. The thorns of the tree poked, stabbed, and slashed his body. In many places, Levy bled profusely, and the dark sap had entered his wounds. He could feel its darkness spreading through him.

Days passed, and many from all over the countryside travelled to the farm to see the one who had single-handedly defeated the mighty Marwolaeth. They had soothsayers, healers, and homeopaths nursing Levy’s wounds. But each time they tried to slow down the spread of the tree sap from spreading throughout the young man’s body, it only grew stronger. In time, Levy could move on his own accord. The dark roots had travelled up to the lad’s heart, and they covered parts of his soft, pale flesh like armour, so that whenever someone would try to poke or drain the devil out of him, the dark sap would prevent anyone from curing Levy of his affliction.

“Am I going to die?” Levy asked the farmer as he lifted his arms and watched how the dark roots weaved down his shoulder blades and down both arms. He sat on a large bale of hay. The surrounding area looked soiled and sullied down to the cracked earth. It was as if anything the bark touched rotted.

“Who can say?” The farmer at the door to the shed shrugged as his daughters dotingly cared for Levy. “No one has ever tried to destroy the Mighty Marwolaeth before.”

“Am I cursed, then?” Levy was strangely calm about the whole thing. He looked at the dragon-tooth dagger on his side and wondered what would happen if he grabbed for his blade and stuck it deep in his arm. Would he feel anything? Would it draw blood, or would more sap just drizzle out of his open wound?

Alright, you girls,” the farmer said, opening the shed door wider and gesturing for them to leave. “You have your chores to do; now get out of sight.”

The farmer understood his daughter’s curiosity about the young warrior, but the young man might’ve been a bit too hasty in destroying that cursed tree. He squatted in front of Levy and eyed his condition. Like the old ones, this brave one is slowly becoming another hell tree.

“You alone had the guts to defeat a monster that had been preying on folks throughout the land. So in my books, that makes you a hero. It seems to me that only you can decide what to do with this new predicament the Gods have placed on you. So you can sit here, take roots in my ground, and allow yourself to become whatever this black sap in your body wants to make you into, which, I don’t think, is something you want to be. Or you can take your roots up and go out there and continue to be the hero you are.”

“I’m no hero,” Levy lifted his leg and felt the roots that were stemming out of his body tearing out of the ground. He tried to stand, but his limbs felt a little stiff and heavy.

The farmer held his chin and chewed on his lip. “You say that the tree folk called you a witch blesser? Am I right?”

“Yeah, they gave me many names—so what?” Levy started to flex more and felt the root system meshing through his body organs to get limber. He looked at the glyph on his hand, and the area was dark, but the roots wouldn’t go any further.

“There is a group called the Lords of Light that travel throughout the world in search of evil to defeat. In the past, many of us tried and failed to get a message out for them to come here and put an end to the Mighty Marwolaeth. But since you came to defeat it, we could get the word out to them to come here and find a cure for you.”

“You seriously think that’s a good idea?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at me.” Levy held up his arm and flexed. “It’s obvious that I’m under some kind of curse, and who knows how long before they get here? By the time they arrive, they might mistake me for another monster to destroy.”

“Maybe they might, but then again, maybe they won’t. The fact remains that if you stay here and don’t fight it, you will become the evil you abhor. So you have to make damn sure that you’re in control of it. Only then will the Lords of the Light, the mighty hero they all heard about along the way, come riding in to help you.”

Levy smiled up at the farmer and said, “You remind me of a certain friend back in my world. You’re both wise, with a touch of presumptuousness. But I assure you, these Lords of the Light may not offer the solution I will agree upon. Even those with the most honourable of intentions often do the most harm. I can’t afford to stick around and find out there is no cure for me, and I’ll become that monster tree and a renewed threat for your family and the surrounding townsfolk.”

The farmer shrugged as he turned to leave the shed, saying, “I just would hate to burn down a perfectly wonderful home to keep whatever is growing in you from getting out. One Mighty Marwolaeth was disturbing enough, but a second one on my property?” He shook his head. “I’m getting too old to be starting over.”

“There’s just one thing I must add that bothers me about all of this,” Levy said. “I don’t know if it’s the tree sap talking in my head, but...” Levy held his hands in his head and said, “Those root-like people I fought; they were an offshoot of the Mighty Marwolaeth, right? So they were victims or human sacrifices. Tell me, farmer, you didn’t sacrifice anyone to that tree, did you?”

The farmer stopped and spoke over his shoulder: “All of us in the county had to do what it took to survive. By the time any of us knew what was happening in the forest, the monster tree was too strong to defeat, let alone approach. I lost many farm hands to that insatiable beast, some of my oldest children, and even my beloved wife fell prey to that accursed tree. It was an abomination that kept us all terrified of venturing out alone. So we always doubled up or went out in groups, just to be safe. But the tree’s roots spread deep, and they travelled far. Few came forth to battle this thing, but they had sacrificed many to try.”

“Why didn’t you do anything, then?”

“That’s a story for another time. Now, if you excuse me, I have some work to do while the sun is still up.” And at that, the farmer left, closing the shed door behind him.

That evening, Levy filled his belly with warm ale, a hearty slice of fried fish, and some pea porridge out of a clay bowl. He watched as the farm girls giggled around him and set down clean hay for him to rest on, then swept the shed and even went as far as providing a large drum of hot water for him to soak in. But because of the plant’s growth throughout his whole body, he found the new clothes he came into this world with no longer fit him like before. If it weren’t for the mass of dark, thick grey mesh of plant roots and bark all over his body, he would be stark naked.

“My sisters and I have made for you a cloak to help you go, among others.” One of the youngest girls in the group shyly presented Levy with it and knelt before him like he was of noble blood. This made Levy uncomfortable since he never thought of being seen this way, among others. He was still too accustomed to being beaten down, excluded, or just simply ignored as an outsider and a freak in his own world. But despite his curiosity to linger around until the Lords of the Light rode through, the potential possibility of staying wasn’t a good idea for everyone involved. He knew that the Farmer and his daughters would allow him to stay here for as long as he liked, but in his present state, that wouldn’t be wise. Saving the people from their blight was one thing, but settling in among them when there was the possibility of becoming the monster you defeated for them was utterly ludicrous. And although he wished he could stay, he knew he had to move on. The cloak the sisters had made would allow him to do just that.

On the off-beaten path, he would have to travel, keeping a safe distance from harming the innocent, or at least until he could find a cure for his predicament.

The farmer came into the shed and motioned for his girls to leave as he sucked away on an ornately carved pipe stuck between his lips.

Levy closed his eyes at the sweet smell of tobacco. It had been too long since he had smoked.

“So,” the farmer puffed away, “have you decided yet what you’re going to do?”

Levy eyed the pipe. “Huh? Uh, yeah, yeah, I think I should head west and keep going. I think I’ll be on my way here, and I doubt that the Lords of the Light will look lightly at a man cursed after defeating a monster tree. If history proves anything in my world, most times, people have an instant aversion to freaks, no matter how heroic they may be.”

“Where will you go? You said that you were not from this world. Where could you go?”

Levy took up his dagger and looked at it. “I could cut my way back into my world, but I’m not in a hurry since I look like this. The people there didn’t really accept me for the way I was, but now I think I should find a cure first for this while I’m here.”

“Then you will need some things to take with you. The world I heard is a vast place.”

“I suspected as much.”

“So,” he puffed, “how should we get started on preparing you for this journey of yours?”

“Well, for now, I could sure use some of that tobacco you’re puffing away on.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the farmer said, giving Levy a wink. “It’s the least I could do for a hero in these parts.”

Levy added with a smirk, “And do you have any more of that strong ale left?”