Forest of Spirits – S.J. Sanders Page 0,1

in the woods.

That didn’t stop hunters. Many of the young men saw it as a challenge to court the dangers of the woods and bring back food. It was a matter of survival. Though the community joined in their effort to toil on the farms, it never seemed to be enough. So, the hunters chanced the forests, whether out of bravado or need. People had to eat.

A lone huntress stood on a hill with her bow just outside the forest that bordered her town. Diana was wise enough to never trust the forest. When the mists came, enveloping the world in its impenetrable cloud, it let monsters loose upon the world. The people huddled in their houses, trembling at the sound of every terrible cry that came from within the unknown void of the white barrier, waiting for the day that it would leave. When it withdrew, it left behind an expansive, dark forest in its wake.

There had always been a small forested area that provided modest game, but nothing like what had come with the mist. During that time, it stretched out over the landscape, swallowing miles of highway and grass fields until it crept within a short distance of the town and finally stopped. She didn’t know why it didn’t just swallow the entire town and get it over with. The town was only a shadow of what it had once been as people clung desperately to what was familiar. They shunned the unnatural forest that stretched for miles in every direction.

The forest meant death for the towns bordering it.

All had the same rumors of disappearances. The rumors were what made “sensible people” stay well away from the woods and the game trails cut through the woods by some unknown force. Even most hunters spent as little time in the forest as possible, driving into the woods via that same mysterious path to fetch any game that they could find. Even the most reckless thrill-seeker among them was afraid of what had come with the forest. Fewer went by foot along smaller paths. It was a form of suicide to trust a forest where people went missing, no bodies recovered, no cries ever heard. It was as if they had disappeared off the face of the Earth. In response, all those who went to into the woods banded together to hunt in groups…

All except the huntress, who watched as a vehicle rushed from the town.

The jeep peeled up the dirt road and swung a sharp left, skidding and spraying dirt. The men inside let out excited shouts, their spirits high as they foolishly expended fuel. Diana huffed in amusement as she watched the vehicle disappear into the tree line. They were stupid for driving into the forest, but she still felt a little of their exuberance. She didn’t even mind that they excluded her from their hunting parties. She didn’t like relying on anything that she couldn’t control by her own hand. Technology hadn’t survived since the mist came. All that was left were flawed, dangerous remnants—gas-powered vehicles when there was fuel to spare, and guns, both with the habit of malfunctioning. She trusted neither with her safety.

Laying her bow across her shoulders, she hooked her arms over the ends of it and stretched as she took in the vision of the woods. It watched her, so she watched it back. It was only fair.

Despite the dangers, she could not hate the forest, nor did she fear it enough to stay away. Every breath brought with it the musky perfume of the wood, familiar and comforting. The secluded cabin at the lake that she inherited from her grandparents had been her sanctuary when madness struck the populace. She recalled childhood summers playing there, and then later, when she lived beside it after her parents died and her grandparents took her in.

Her grandfather had taught her to hunt and be self-sufficient in the woods near their home. To respect the woods. He often told tales of the fae folk, entertaining her during their treks. She had those memories to cling to when the world went dark, and the woods had encroached to gather at the edge of the lake like a protective sentinel watching over her.

She wasn’t a fool, however. She didn’t trust the forest—or rather, she didn’t trust the beings that had crossed over to inhabit its dark depths. Still, those beings had been more reliable in behavior than most people she knew. When the mists receded, Diana