The Fall of Autumn

There is a stillness in the air. A blood moon rises over the tree line like a ruby that glimmers in the torch light. A man sat in his parked car at the side of a dirt road. This man is a solitary man, a hermit if you will. He ponders the great questions of life and writes down his dreams in the attempt to interpret their meaning. He has had a few lovers in his life, fewer friends, but that is a distant memory to him, although young. He was at a place called Deadwood by the locals. It is known for its sightings of Bigfoot in 1978 and has become yet another forgotten tourist attraction. Nathaniel, which is the name of this solitary man, is writing in his black journal. It is there he documents his travels. Curious about this tall tale, Nathaniel exited his vehicle and grabbed his flashlight that he had packed for the occasion. He then grabbed an old revolver. A weapon he had no serious intention of using, but even a pacifist like Nathaniel was wary of the various animals that lived in this part of the world. With everything he needed in hand, he walked into the dark Deadwood alone. 

Nathaniel traveled deep within the forest, following a trail that eventually eroded, making him climb over fallen branches and move through narrow dells. After some time, Nathaniel finally stopped at a marked tourist location, a sacrificial stone inside an enclosure. Fake blood was stained on the stone slab. Etched on the stone that the slab rested upon was an inscription written in Latin. Sadly, the inscription was lost upon Nathaniel. He squished his flashlight under his arm and pulled out his black book from his worn leather satchel that he purchased from a renaissance fair a few years back. He wrote down the inscription and etched a drawing of the stone. A calm breeze flew over him and the leaves rustled about, putting his mind into a deep relaxation. But the forest grew dark and Nathaniel could no longer see the blood moon. He stood there silently, staring at the altar and its surroundings adjusting his light where needed.  Unbeknownst to him, gleaming yellowish eyes with a reddish hue appeared behind him.

“Who is he,

Who comes before me?” said the beast. The beast then let out a low growl.

Nathaniel jumped around and anxiously tried to pull out his gun. He pointed his flashlight, but the light could not penetrate the darkness that now enveloped him.

“Draw your sword and see where it lands,

Strike true what you have at hand,

If you miss, I will laugh,

And you will see what big teeth I have,” said the beast with a menacing cackle.

“Who are you?” shrieked Nathaniel, waving his flashlight about, but to no avail. The beast was hidden.

It stared a while, thinking. Nathaniel held his light as still as possible. Not a sound could be heard. In fact, he could no longer feel the calm breeze that was a moment ago rustling the leaves on the trees. It is as if he had come under a spell. His right hand remained firmly grasped on the flashlight. At last the beast snarled and spoke, 

“I have been told in many tales from lands unknown

Yet I remain here in the lands that I roam.

Three little pigs go by and by

And in a ditch does the red rider lie,

And there she does, that bitch remains,

Her grandma too and not in vain

For she made for a great roast

And great wine

A bottle still I possess.

If I find

You are not narrow of mind

I shall share some with thyself

To this day I howl because of it

All for naught; all for pelf,

Some would say

Alas, I digress

Memories sway and I am stressed

People say I am to fear

Misunderstood I have guessed

And still they come

In daylight they go

Where light and sun shine through.

But none will listen 

none will hear

And still they frisson

When they near

And when they see me

Wielding their irons and shackles

Pitchforks and jackals

They cry out my name

It was all for naught,

For I am the Big. 

Bad. 

Wolf.” 

The Big Bad Wolf then let out a menacing howl. The darkness receded and the Blood Moon was revealed over his dark silhouette. His howl was like thunder. 

“The Big Bad Wolf! From the old fairy tales?!”

“Fairytales can come true

It can happen to you

Just like it happened to them,” said the Big Bad Wolf

“And what happened to the three little pigs?” asked Nathaniel in an attempt to prolong what seemed to be his inevitable demise.

“Safe and sound

From the hound.” The Big Bad Wolf’s eyes disappeared and Nathaniel could hear tree trunks rattled and shook. “Could this be it?” he thought to himself. His hand finally found his revolver. The beast's feet slammed against the earth like a boulder. Nathaniel waved the flashlight around trying desperately to follow it. The wolf’s eyes appeared on the other side of the enclosure. “Enough about me,” he snarled, scratching into the wood, 

“You never answered my first question, torch bearer,

Disrespectful indeed, and a grave error.

I will ask you again:

Who is he,

Who comes so pitifully unprepared,

Who comes before me?”

“I am Nathaniel Thornbrook, my father is Joseph Thornbrook. I come from a small town in Pennsylvania. I came here to see for myself the beast of Deadwood. You know, Bigfoot! But truth be told I did not expect to find such a beast, let alone find one that can speak and possess intelligence. I feel foolish now as I stand here surrounded by darkness. Your yellowish red eyes and stark consciousness makes you neither man nor beast.” 

“It has been the folly of many who have tread these paths

Who believe in years gone past

That they alone possess intelligence

When in fact it is negligence,” said the beast.

“I agree, I see that glimmer of humanity in you which means that it would be unworthy to even lay eyes upon you! Allow me to go and I shall never return!” said Nathaniel.

“There you go Nathaniel, with your sword in hand,

Speaking in ways that you do not understand,

But keep on talkin’

For you will end up in no coffin

The failure of Humanity is what brought you

And arrogance will undo you!”

The darkness that enveloped the enclosure had been somewhat relinquished. A ray of red moonlight shone on the wolf and he was revealed to Nathaniel. He stood menacingly between four trees, two on either side of him. His four ravenous claws hammered into the trunks of the trees and he stood suspended in the air as if it were a game. His claws were so sharp that it cut through the bark and the bleeding trees covered his long black nails with dark brown sap. His razor sharp teeth glimmered in the red moonlight. Hackled was the hair on his back.

“Tremble Human and Despair

For tonight I will turn water into wine

I will turn you into cutlery

And pick you apart like a grape from a vine

For Human bones are a luxury

But here is the best part

You have a head start!” a maniacal cackle burst forth from the beast's lips and the power of his howl came forth. 

Nathaniel turned around and ran in the direction from which he came. He looked back and the beast was there, dangling from the ancient pine, staring at him with wild intent. After a short distance, he looked back again and the beast was gone. He ran through the forest, crossing over narrow dells and traveling some distance, and the beast was nowhere to be seen or heard. He cried out in God’s name, but there was no reply. Not even a squirrel or an early bird. The breeze picked up again and he could hear a faint sound in the distance. His car was sounding the alarm like a horse spooked and neighing. Loud it was. Nathaniel, running for his life, found his car. Paw prints were marked in the surrounding gravel. His car looked fine at first glance. Nathaniel struggled to pull out his keys. His hands were trembling and his body shivered uncontrollably. The unbearably loud car alarm made it difficult for Nathaniel to focus. Suddenly, the alarm stopped. Nathaniel turned around and darkness surrounded him once again. In the silence a growl came forth. Nathaniel fired each round in his revolver. He screamed and dropped his flashlight, and it flickered and faded.