Test moss part 4

  Chapter 14

  The Birth of his Religion

  Willow was walking down the forest path, guided by the strange tug on her heart and root walls. She had been walking for a while but she could not shake the image of that girl turning into red moss.

  Willow was absolutely sure she knew who that little girl was, she knew they shared laughs with each-other and cried for one another but anytime she tried to picture her face more clearly she was just met with static that caused her head to hurt.

  Willow had to stop walking and rest against a root wall while holding her head trying to sooth the pain. “Who…?” Willow began saying before an eruption of tears poured from her eyes, a sudden twitch over took her nose and and lips causing uncontrollable crying just from the mere thought of trying to remember someone who might’ve been like a little sister.

  Willow sank against the wall until she was curled into a ball in the dirt. Hugging her knees she questioned if she could find the answer to who this girl was in heaven. Could someone who didn’t exist anymore go to heaven? Would even god forget this little child?

  Red moss started to descend from the sky. As if the heavens were bleeding for the loss of an angel, the loss of something unexplainable. “If heaven could allow someone so pure as a child to just vanish then how could it be trusted with your prayers?” Willow lips to match these words as they were whispered to her from behind the root walls as if she knew them before they were spoken. The red moss had blanketed the forest in a subtle shade of red, as if it were a child being prepared for church.

  Willow slowly sat up, realizing she had somewhere important to be. She wasn’t sure where it was anymore but the tug on her heart gently reminded her which way she needed to go.

  As she walked she heard sounds of an animal dying and men cheering coming from the other side of the root wall she was next to. She tried to peer through the wall to see what was happening but only caught a few glints on steel as some figures ran past.

  Willow had to stop for a little further down her straight path, the root walls began to bend inward making a ribbed tunnel that allowed only slivers of trembling, red moon light to pass through. Willow couldn’t see far enough inside the tunnel to see the other side. This sight of this tunnel sent shivers down her spine for the winds themselves were pulling her into it and a low chattering sound could be heard inside.

  Since this is where her heart was guiding her, she clenched her teeth and whipped her tears away. She started on her path once more but with the feeling that something was watching her from just the other side of the root walls.

  As soon as Willow took a step into the tunnel a whispering but demanding voice washed over her bringing with it the scent of myrrh. “Be not afraid, my child.” The voice wrapped itself around Willow’s wrist and gently lead her deeper into the tunnel. Willow wanted to scream but something about this felt biblical to her, like it was god calling her.

  Screaming came from the entrance of the tunnel, to muffled to tell what the words exactly so Willow paid them no attention thinking they were just part of a trick the forest was playing in her.

  A face so large that it filled the entire tunnel emerged from the darkness, it had thousands of eyes covering every inch of the face. Once one of the eyes would blink out of sync with the rest it would burst open, sending red moss forward leaving a space that the light had a hard time filling. Seconds later the eye would reform.

  The eyes moved chaotically in every direction until they all focused in unison on Willow. Even knowing that angels were always described to be horrifying Willow was still scared and overwhelmed. But the feeling this one gave her made her heart twist as if it were using its gaze alone to steal her soul. Willow’s feet moved on their on since she was to frozen to realize how much danger she was actually in, she began running back the way she came.

  Willow looked over her shoulder as she ran to see the face open its mouth revealing one final, giant eye ball that looked straight at her. The eye began trembling as if it were about to shed a tear, instead it burst open. A tall, shapeless man emerged from the giant face. The sound of laughing and bones breaking quickly caught up to Willow as the man hit the ground. The man was moving as if this were his first moments alive, he was tripping over his own feet. He began to run franticly at Willow, when he would lose his balance he would slam against the walls and scream then shortly after he would begin laughing before inevitably colliding with the wall again.

  Willow couldn’t look back anymore, the thought of that thing catching up was too much so she had to look forward towards the light at the end of the tunnel. But the sound was gaining on Willow and it was just inches behind her. She heard the crack of the wall as the man slammed against it right next to her. Willow looked back to see her inevitable doom but there was nothing there now. The silence was even more haunting than the chase.

  Once Willow looked back towards the exit she realized the light and her hope were snuffed out, blocked by the thing who now stood just feet away from her. The creatures chest inflated causing the sound of broken flutes to whisk past then Willow felt herself being pulled forward as if the beast was creating a negative space just from its exhale.

  “Get back demon!” A voice from outside of the tunnel yelled before a wall of fire consumed the creature, the scent of concentrated myrrh filled the air once more.

  Willow watched in horror, as the creature who wasn’t even reacting to the fire anymore still stare her down. With the sound of creaking wood, the creature slammed it’s hand against the wall next to Willow. The wall crumbled under the loose fist, shattering as if it were glass and soon the cracking and breaking stretched outwards in all directions. Echos from further down the tunnel signaled the walls shattering in on itself until the roots dissolved into red moss.

  “In the name of my father, I said get back!” The voice called again. The barrel of a gun pressed into the creatures side, sinking below its skin. Just like in her dreams a holy man had came to her rescue. The gun began to hiss as the monsters skin turned a bright red and flames erupted from beneath its skin and mouth. But there it stood, not phased by the attempts to fight it off. Just the sound of the broken flutes filled the dead air as all the hope from Willow and the holy man quickly died.

  Its head slowly turned towards the man holding the gun. With its claw raised once more, it slowly but surgically moved it through the air swiping at the space between the two. Willow watched in horror as seconds later the once brave hero with a gun was sliced into shreds from a delayed blade.

  The beast raised its hand above the would be hero and red vines shot out of its fingers and struck the dead body. The vines slithered in and out of each body part as if it were sowing the man back to life and in a matter of seconds it did just that as the man stood once more, red vines filling in the unsalvageable parts. Mike’s body twitched, his eyes were locked on the red moon above as if it were calling his name. Willow’s breathing staled, all of her strength went into making sense of this.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Mike!” A man yelled as Willow was yanked backward, away from this demon as more holy men appeared. Willow looked up to see her savior was one of those holy men who had screamed painfully for Mike, he was dragging her further back leaving three more holy men with guns between them and the demon.

  Hissing gave way and then it was the overwhelming presence of myrrh pouring from the holy mens guns before the liquid caught flame and barreled towards the demon. Flames poured from two of their guns while the third holy man kneeled in front of the beast and started to chant a prayer. “It’s not going to work!” Willow screamed, desperately trying to save the uniforms she looked up to all her life.

  The demon calmly walked up to the man praying and kneeled before him, taking a similar stance as if trying to mock him. However the words that were coming from the demons mouth weren’t human, they dug into everyone’s ear and pierced into their brains causing everyone to hold onto their own head and scream in pain.

  The man that used to be Mike stumbled behind the demon bowing behind it chanting its prayer.

  The pain forced memories Willow had repressed to surface, this thought alone forced tears to stream her face as her mind was being ripped apart by an invisible force. Disembodied screams, reminiscent of her parents fighting and echoes of doors being slammed filled her mind. The bruises she once had to hide came to surface once more.

  Willow used all of her might to turn her head to see one of the holy men was still kneeling, unaffected by the demons prayer. That holy man looked at the one who had pulled Willow away from the demon. “I’m sorry.” He said, the words barely audible over the demon. The man then stood up and raised his hand towards the demon and started to speak its own language back to it.

  The words seemed to have an effect on the demon for its body was twitching. The demon realized what was happening and stood up and charged at the chanting man. But before it could reach him, the demon had turned into red moss that fell slowly to the ground.

  Gasping for air is what caught everyone’s attention next. Mike was lying on his back, reaching towards the sky as his body seized violently. Mike reached up towards the moon. “Take me father…” He managed to say before his shaking became too much.

  One of the holy men rushed to Mike’s side and held him so he wouldn’t die alone. “It’s ok Mike… It’ll be ok! We will meet in heaven once more…” The man holding Mike said.

  Mike’s face became serious, the shaking stopping and blood poured slowly from behind his closed lips. “There is no more heaven brother.” Mike said with heavy eyes before he breathed his last breath. The wind and the forest had stopped to listen to these words as if all hope hinged on them and once they were delivered there was a moment of silence that not even Willow’s heart beat dared to interrupt.

  “Johnson! What the hell was that?” The man who had pulled Willow away said. From what Willow remembered from going to church this holy man was their squads leader, designated by the inverse colors of his uniform.

  “I…” Johnson had began to speak but the words couldn’t find their destination. His trembling hands hovered over his dead friend.

  “I did what I had to sir.” He finally said clenching his fists once before gently placing them over Mike’s still body.

  “That was not a prayer backed by the church! Where the hell did you learn that?!” The squad leader said grabbing Johnson by the collar of his uniform and lifted him off the ground.

  “Salter, the normal prayers weren’t working.” Johnson said, calmly placing his hands over the leaders. Johnson was surprisingly calm, it made Willow nervous because she knew talking back to a lead holy man like that would lead to a quick punishment.

  Salter gritted his teeth and raised one of his hands winding up a heavy hand that Willow recognized to well. “That was the language of the demons. Give me one reason to not strike you down in the name of the lord.” Salter’s threat didn’t land with Johnson, he just stood there and grinned.

  “I know your rank will make this hard to hear, but our lord has abandoned us brother.” Johnson’s word propelled Salter’s fist straight into his face. A blood trail formed under Johnson’s nose.

  A tongue slipped out of Johnson’s lips, desperately reaching for the blood. “His been gone for a while now. Think back to how many of our people died in this past week. It wasn’t even just our brothers in arm but our families to. Something has put a target on our back for choosing to bend our knee to the wrong god.” Johnson’s word hit Willow like a wave carrying her out to sea.

  Salter wound up another punch but, one of the other holy men standing idly by, grabbed his arm. “I think he has a point Salter.” The young faced holy man who was shaking in his boots said.

  “What did you say Sax?” The words came slow and sharp. Johnson was now off the hock and now all of Salter’s rage was pointed at Sax.

  Sax’s head immediately shoot down to stare at his own boots that seemed like they didn’t want to stop moving. “The prophets have said they haven’t heard from god in over two months… and… my little boy… he’s sick.” Sax was chocking on the words as if this part in particular brought him great pain.

  “He doesn’t have much longer to live sir… You tell me what type of god would take away the thing I value most?” He said swallowing the pain to stare Salter in the eyes.

  Willow’s mind began to spiral. She remembered firmly that the day of Jinar’s birthday that the prophets had said their message. That ‘All is good, there is no reason to fear.’ Was the title they put to their announcement. Thinking back she realized the moon had never moved, she began to wonder how long she has been in this forest now.

  Salter threw Sax to the ground and stood over him. “For the sake of your child I will pretend I didn’t hear that. You know our god has a divine plan for everything. He leaves some prayers unanswered because those prayers don’t align with his plan.” Salter said. It felt like he had to have this same talk many times before.

  Johnson pushed past Salter and helped Sax to his feet. He then stood face to face with Salter once more. “You mean he doesn’t have time for us anymore right? Our god, lord above, has to many children so he has to neglect some. He chooses his favorites like you or the prophets or anyone else high up in the church and answers all of your prayers… but us? Us ‘foot solider’s’ we pray and pray for our entire life and what do we get in return? We get crippling debt that keeps growing… we get countless nights where we have to choose if we have to starve or have power… we get dead sons and daughters…” Johnson said while physically pushing Salter with each point he had. Salter grabbed Johnsons arm on the final push and held it tightly.

  “It’s not as it seems brother. We all have our troubles. I’m not saying ours are any less important than yours but even I am struggling.” Salter said. As Salter slowly let go of Johnson’s arm he let his mask slip, a great sorrow took over Salter’s face.

  The third holy man stormed over and pushed Johnson away from Salter. “You need to stop this now! We cannot fight here for we have a child to save!” He said locking eyes with Willow who realized at the same tike as everyone else that she was still there.

  Sax stood next to Johnson now and pointed at Willow. “Don’t you get it Peterson? That is our point! A child of all things is here, in the jaws of hell! How could our god keep allowing children to be thrown into situations like this?” Sax yelled. Everyone one stoped and stared at Willow for a few seconds.

  The combination of all of their eyes was too much. Willow never had seen such fractures in the church, before the only fight she would hear from the holy men was whose turn it was to collect tithing. She wanted to scream at all of them that they were all being stupid but the teachings she received from her parents and the church reminded her the cost of speaking up like that. She ran her arms over her arms trying to cover her bruises that hadn’t faded.

  Seeing how Willow was on the verge of tears the holy men turned their attention towards each other again. “See! You’re making her cry!” Sax yelled pushing Peterson.

  “The devil is tempting you two with lies. I think we all need to just calm down and get our heads on straight again.” Salter said trying his best to get control of the situation and stood between Sax and Peterson but those words sparked more rage from Johnson.

  “The devil is tempting us? The devil is the only reason we are still here right now! The devil was the only one who answered our prayers during that fight! If anything your god is tempting you with sloth!” Johnson yelled pointing to Mike’s still body.

  Willow eyes fixated on Mike. She could see his lips were moving, forming the word Jinar. With a few snaps Mike’s limbs started to raise slowly until he was standing on his knees staring at his old friends fighting.

  “Mike…” Willow said softly. She pointed at the body struggling to get to it’s feet but the adults were to busy fighting to hear her warning.

  The mutilated body stumbled and tripped over its own feet while making its way towards the group.

  “Mike!” Willow found the courage to scream. She thought it was freeing to finally speak but she knew she was too late.

  The others turned to see Mike was now standing right beside Salter, their faces were just inches apart. Salter began screaming while reaching for the holy water hanging from his belt but Mike’s hand reached it first.

  Mike took the bottle of holy water and tore the cork off. “Your god has no power here.” Mike’s words caused Willow and Salter to reflexively flinch. He began to drink the holy water until it was gone and then dropped the empty bottle at their feet. The red spores began to swirl around Mike and red vines began to slither out from under his skin.

  “Run!” Willow screamed knowing all too well that when the red vines appear death is sure to follow. Her words hit Salter to slowly, for the vines started to wrap around his body.

  “Mike! I know you’re in there! Pray to god with me and we can cast this demon out!” Salter yelled franticly slapping his hands together and began chanting.

  Willow had noticed Johnson, Sax and Peterson were just idly by. Peterson’s and Sax’s faces were filled with horror but Johnson face had split from a devilish grin. Johnson had his arms out, holding the other two back.

  “You think there’s a prayer that could stop a god?” Mike said as his body was split down the middle and opened up like a blooming flower. A sickly light and red spores poured from Mike’s open body.

  Salter had now given up on praying and began to rip at the vines that bound him. “It’s time for my religion to truly start.” The voice began to twist and morph, going from Mike’s voice to many different ones.

  Screams filled the air as Salter’s eyes began to bleed. The vines violently bent Salter’s body, fitting it into the blooming flower before Mike’s body quietly closed up. The air went still.

  Mike looked at Willow and then Johnson. “Take her to my altar now.” Mike said before his body exploded into red moss that littered the floor. Johnson’s smile just kept growing as he now looked at Willow.