It was a cold night close to the days of the harvest. The kind of night where most people stayed home watching movies drinking hot cocoa under a warm blanket. Betty Wong was home. but she wasn't watching tv.
She was having trouble falling asleep again. So she decided to try to light the sage that her friend Mungo the Grocer had given her for her troubles. Apprarently the smoke helped to soothe the mind and prepare the spirit for entry into the dream-world....
The smoke from the Sage was thick and pungent. It was a smell that made Betty think of the Country. She didn’t know why it made her think of the country, especially since she had never been there. But it did. You know what else it did? It made Betty relax. Slowly she stopped worrying about not sleeping and all her crazy visions that she had been having lately. Instead, she watched the smoke float around her bedroom, slowly making its way towards her open window and out into the night.
Maybe it was the sage or perhaps it was the mysterious glow of the moon that evening, but sure enough before long Betty wasn’t just sitting on her pillows relaxing, she was drifting... Drifting into the dream world of the Spirits.
Strange things had been happening
The smoke from the sage was thick and pungent. It was a smell that made betty think of the country. She didn't know why it made her think of the country, but it did. You know what else it did? It made Betty relax. She stopped worrying about not sleeping and all the crazy visions she had been having lately. Instead, she watched it make its way towards the open window cand out to the branches of the giant Sycamore tree behind her house and out into the cold night.
Maybe it was the sage, or perhaps it was the mysterious glow of the harvest moon. but sure enough, before long, Betty wasn't just sitting on her pillows relaxing, she was drifting...
Drifting into the spirit world.
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The streets of Sycamore Market are eerily quiet tonite. Only a few regulars listening to music down at Marley's bar near Cranberry Corner.
In the alleys something stirs. Through the cracks in the concrete, from the garbage and out of the darkness, they return. Thousands of little pixel creatures. Shadowy, shapeless things with jagged mouths for feeding. Always feeding. Always wanting more
Betty stirs. A breeze from the East. Whispers outside her window that feel they are from somewhere far far away.
The pixels scurry down the trees of Willow's Lane, feasting on anything in their path. They are drawing closer to the Park at the end of the Lane. Closer to the giant Sycamore that graces the park in the middle of the market.
They sense fresh nourishment. So green it is. So lush. Their mouths full of pointy points of drooling teethiness. Their eyes glow yellow with sinister delight.
For a moment they hesitate beneath the shadow of the immense tree. collectively they oogle the roots, the bark, the branches and the leaves.
A voice urges them on.
Yes, that's it, you are almost there my pets. It is for you. It is all for you!!
Suddenly from the branches, a caped figure lands blocking the gated entrance to park . The pixels jump back. The warrior is armed with a shaft and stands poised and ready.
"This sacred tree is protected. It has done you no harm and no harm shall be done onto it. Go back from where you came!"
The creatures hiss and pace unsure of what to do next.
The dark voice from the shadows will have not of that.
"Foul critters. You dare listen to any other but me! "
Instantly, a flock of creatures attack the lone warrior attempting to enter the park. But the figure is ready and strikes down all that attack. The attack is relentless, as creatures from every crack in the darkness emerge as they attempt to overwhelm their solitary opponent.
The warrior is determined and with staff in hand, appears to be fending them off.
The hint of dawn breaking is the final straw. The creatures sense tonite is not their night. The pack begins to retreat and within a few seconds just as quickly as they appeared, they flee into the shadows.
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Betty's eyes open. The sage is all but burnt out. A strong scent remains in the room.
She feels like she is still asleep. Her eyes hazy but alert. Something has happened. she is not sure what exactly, just that something has definitely happened.
Something draws her to the window. The branches of the Sycamore tree behind her house rustle in the night. She looks out into the darkness. Looking for something, listening, though not sure for what.
"aoooooooooooooooooooooiiiiiiiiii"
What's that? Who said that? Betty rubs her eyes again to make sure she Is really awake.
Betty searches the darkness for movement. Nothing. Only stillness.
"saaaaaaaatttttttooooooooooooooooooooorrrriiiiiiiiii"
Betty takes a deep breathe to calm herself. With her eyes close, she begins to see.
There isn't anyone out there. That sound was not coming from any person. That sound was not coming from any animal. That sound was coming from the tree itself.
Most people go their whole lives without believing in spirits. But Betty wasn't live most other people. High above the great Sycamore Tree of Cranberry corner, beneath the eerie glow of the harvest moon, the spirits were returning.
