Prologue

31 0 0
                                    


The main thing Kendra Hathaway hated about living downtown, was that there was never any parking. She usually found luck near the cheese deli two blocks from her beaten down apartment, but even that was filled now. She ended up paralleling into a spot on Kite Street at a little slab of road tucked behind Walker Reese Cemetery.

She took the short cut through the cemetery rather than walking around it. The neighborhood was a bit rough in this area. Kendra figured she was safer among the dead and the trees.

The click-clacking of her heels on the cobblestone accompanied the sound of the rustling leaves over head. A few of the trees were already bald of leaves, standing shorter than others in the distant dark. Autumn was finally rearing its head. 

Crack! 

Kendra stopped. Her grip tightened on her purse. She spun around.

"Hello?" she called.

There was nothing. Only gravestones and the rustling of leaves. As quickly as she stopped, she started walking again, but with hastened steps. 

Leaving the cemetery, Kendra spilled out into the street, a straight shot from her apartment. The street was empty. 

Darkness cloaked the windows of the apartments. Even this late, Kendra expected to see at least a few lights on. Reaching into her purse, she removed her keys and positioned her keys into her hand as makeshift brass-knuckles. It wasn't much, but it helped her nerves.

A cold feeling trickled up her spine. Someone was watching her. A strange sound moved behind her. Kendra's knees grew numb as she walked. She could barely feel the ground. Her hands tightened around her keys until her knuckles turned white.

Breathing heavily, she said, "I have a gun and I will blow a hole in your ass if someone is following me!" It was a lie of course. Kendra held onto her purse with the keyed hand inside. 

 Crack!

Kendra jumped in fright, so violently that she dropped her purse and keys. "Fuck," she muttered, gathering her belongings with shaky hands. The last thing she wanted to do was turn around and look. Right now, her fear felt more in her head than anything. If someone was behind her, it would make this fear real. 

But she couldn't help it. Kendra turned around. 

A tree. It was only a tree. She almost sighed in relief, but a second dose of fear caught her lungs.

Surely at first glance it was a tree, bald and white. Probably about six feet tall. But this tree stood in the middle of the road, about fifteen feet away from her. Surely Kendra would have noticed walking past a tree, even at her current level of terror.

There was something else too.

A large black oily spot on the bark, near its crown of long jagged branches. It looked almost like... an eye. Suddenly, the tree moved. The branches jerked, all of them. No amount of wind could push them in such a sharp manner. Some of them now stuck straight out, towards her, almost reaching.

Kendra backed away.

Its roots bent and shifted in a thick sharp manner like knuckles cracking. And there was the sound again. Crack! Crack! The sound of it moving was the sound of bones breaking, over and over. 

Kendra broke into a full run, a desperate scream bellowing from her lungs. That tree. That thing chased after her. 

Within several steps, it caught her, ensnaring her in its branches. Her flesh tore instantly as her body was lifted off the ground. The branches acted more as vines, coiling around her throat and arms and over her mouth. 

The bark was coarse. Before she could even think to scream, it rubbed her  lips from her gums. Pain blinded her mind. Her body convulsed and thrashed around wildly. Blood poured onto the street. 

A slit opened along the trunk, straight down almost to the roots, revealing dozens of rows of teeth. The branches squeezed Kendra's body until her bones broke. First her legs snapped, then her hips flattened. Her skull crunched inwards. The tree contorted her body into itself, crunching her bones until every one broke. It then ate her whole. The slit closed up around her broken body as it chewed on her, erupting the night with the sounds of sloshing blood and crunching bone. 

This happened in a matter of seconds, no more then four. Nothing but her purse and keys were left. 

A scream erupted into the air, followed by shouts of alarm. Her screams awoke the neighborhood.

Crack! Crack! Crack!  The tree's long shadow under the street lights was accompanied by a collection of others. More had come.

And Then the Trees Came KnockingWhere stories live. Discover now