Divine Blood

Hues of dark green, brown, and blue were all she had seen for miles, dark and agonizingly dull. And black, of course. An unsettling inky black that strained her eyes, bringing with it a chill that seeped into her bones. She knows it’s here. It has to be. This is where her sister was last seen, still in her nightgown, walking barefoot into the dense forest. Just like so many others from town… 

Something is out here, and Macy knows it. Something the town had whispered of. Their words were always filled with awe, yet all she felt was dread. They called it many things… an angel, a blessing, holy and beautiful and utterly divine, even God itself. But she didn’t believe in such things, even if her sister did. All Macy knows is that her sister was lured into the forest by something pretending to be God.

Her boots crunch softly against the forest floor as she shines her flashlight, the shadows of the trees creating winding shapes that loom over her. Every step she takes, the colder she feels. She can feel it getting closer. The forest is quiet, too quiet, the silence more terrifying than any sound. All it would take is an owl hooting, a mouse rustling in a bush, the squeaking of a bat, anything to show that the forest is alive, but there’s nothing. She can’t help but wonder if they’re too scared to make noise, much like her.

Finally, she makes out the shape of something ahead. She can only see the silhouette, something large, like a boulder, floating about four inches above the ground. Unlike a boulder, however, it pulsates, making wet squishing sounds with each movement. She can smell it; rust and rot, mixed with the nauseating scent of decay. She stops in her tracks, her heart pounding. It simply throbs and oscillates, causing bile to rise in her throat. With shaking hands, she points her flashlight up to it. The pulsing mass of flesh, as it reveals to be, glistens with wriggling tendrils that wrap around its surface. The light illuminates it for only a moment before eyes, scattered across its form, shoot open. Macy drops the flashlight in horror, feeling sick.

In the back of her mind, she hears it. No, hearing isn’t right… it has no voice, yet she knows exactly what it is saying. It’s as if it is projecting itself into her mind, its thoughts clear as any spoken word. 

Be not afraid, my child.

She drops to her knees, her breathing ragged, the scent of rotting flesh causing tears to well in her eyes. It simply blinks, studying her. Once she overcomes the urge to vomit, she opens her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted.

There is no need for that here. Your voice is meaningless. I can hear you either way.

Macy closes her mouth, swallowing bile. She clenches her fists, thinking as clearly as she can.

Where is she? Where is my sister?

Its tendrils unwrap slightly.

She is with us. She is happy now.

Bullshit.

It narrows it’s many eyes.

What do you see when you look upon me?

A monster.

A beat passes.

You are a nonbeliever.

Yes, I am.

Another beat.

Your blood is devoted to me now, yet you choose to be faithless. Tell me why, mortal? Why do you defy me?

Because I see through you. Now give me my sister.

Its tendrils fully unfurl, touching the ground, allowing it to move freely.

She is happy. She does not wish to leave.

Macy snarls. 

I don’t care. Give her back, now!

Its tendrils slither over to her, climbing over her, curling around her. It feels disgusting, yet something makes the touch feel warm and comfortable, like a drug.

I can take you to her.

Her breath hitches as she finds herself unable to move.

I can make you my disciple, just like her…

Tears run down her cheeks as more of its flesh envelops her, its writhing form splitting.

Your unhappiness is fixable. If you simply submit, you will live in eternal bliss, just like her. A part of me, of us, forever safe and comforted.

Her limbs feel so weak, the pulsating flesh fully around her, making it hard to breathe.

Join me, and you will be safe from all the pain…

She sobs weakly as she conjures all of the strength she can bear, reaching into her pocket, barely able to move due to the pressure on all sides. She can feel a prick on the back of her neck as her fingers curl around cool metal.

Let me guide you, my lamb…

She screams out as she forces her drained muscles to push forward, taking the knife from her pocket and slicing at the flesh in front of her. The thing screeches, recoiling, tendrils flailing as a disgusting mix of blood and pus splatters and smears on her clothes. She keeps hacking, her muscles screaming in protest as she carves her way out, gasping for air as she reaches its surface.

It makes horrific screeching and wailing, multiple voices layered over each other, all screaming in pain. Macy coughs and sputters. Everything in her wants to collapse and sob, but she forces her legs forward, still gripping the knife as she runs through the woods, only vaguely aware of where she needs to go. Everything burns and aches, begging her to just die and end the suffering. Behind her, she can hear it as its tendrils wrap around trees and destroy shrubbery, destroying everything in its path to get to her. She keeps going, winding around trees.

It’s all a blur as she runs. She doesn’t dare stop, even as the screeching fades into the distance behind her. She keeps running until she gets to the edge of the forest, collapsing on the gravel of the side of the road where she parked.

The gravel digs into her skin, gashes on her arms from her collapse, but she hardly notices over the burning of her muscles. She sobs, bloody and broken, shaking on the ground.

It feels like years, laying there, sobbing and gasping for air, but, in reality, is only mere seconds before pain shoots through her aching body once again. She screams as she feels a sharp pain in the back of her neck.

She drags herself up, every inch of her body aching in protest as she gets in her car. She rips the rearview mirror off its mount, angling it to see the back of her neck.

She gags as she sees a small wound with a large, wriggling mass under the skin. It senses its host's realization, crawling down and around to the front of her neck. She screams in pain, feeling it separate skin from muscle to force its path. She scratches at her skin desperately, trying to get it out, causing its path to shift and change to avoid capture, slithering down her arm. She yanks up her sleeve, grabbing the knife that she had nearly left on the gravel. She watches as it moves under the surface of her skin, her eyes following its painful path to her wrist. 

Macy raises the blade, bringing it down on her wrist.