A Lost Night In The Woods

He walked under the oak tree, nervously checking behind him as he brushed the dirt off of his knees and straightened his jacket. He had been in these woods many times, but this wasn’t like all the other times he came here. There was no way around it: he was scared, completely scared. He checked his phone. The clock read 9:00 p.m., but it felt like it was midnight. Had he only been here an hour, he asked himself. He rubbed his knuckles. The fresh cuts on them stung as his sweat-laden fingers ran over them. He winced in pain, shaking his hand to relieve the pain. As he did this, something wet ran down his head and stung his eye. He rubbed it out with his sleeve, and touched his face above his eye. “When was I cut?” he asked aloud to himself. He couldn’t tell. A memory flashed in his mind. He saw himself bringing his fist down, punching the other man in the face. His head throbbed as he thought of this. Bury those thoughts, he reminded himself. This would be nothing but a bad dream sooner or later. He just needed to be cool. Don’t think about this ever again. He wasn’t a bad person. He just was dealt a bad hand. That’s all he needed to keep telling himself. 
He pushed back the branches of a nearby bush, trying not to prick himself on the thorns of its leaves. He took a step, but then forced himself back when he heard the all to familiar hiss of a snake. He jumped back, tripping over a root of the tree and falling backwards. The snake slithered in front of him and curled up, hissing. He stared into its glowing eyes. Sssss, it sounded. He sat still, too nervous to move. Sssssinner!, it suddenly said. His heart jumped upon hearing this. “W-what do you mean?” he asked the coldblooded reptile. It hissed again. He shook his head, laughing nervously. “What am I saying? You can’t talk,” he told the snake. Sssssinner!, it said again. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself backwards. He got up on his knees and looked back at the snake. “I-I did what I had to do! You can’t judge me for that. It had to be done.” The snake began to slink away, then turned back and hissed at him again. Sssssinner! The man gritted his teeth again, this time in anger. He reached over and grabbed a branch from the tree and charged the snake. “Don’t you judge me!” he said, and began to beat the snake with the branch. The snake curled up again, taking the hit he brought down savagely on his head. It drew back its head, ready to strike him, and hissed again. Sssssinner! It hissed angrily, as it wrapped its jaw around his leg, driving his poisonous teeth into his leg. The man winced and fell back. He cried aloud in pain, and snatched the venomous viper from him. He threw it into the dark of the woods, breathing heavily as he let go. He heard it hit something: a tree or a rock, but definitely something hard. The woods, which had been sounding with the chirping of crickets and other creatures of the night, suddenly became quiet. He looked around, stopping himself from gasping for air, then let out a sigh of relief. He had stop that judgmental snake. Suddenly, from somewhere in the dark, he heard it, the familiar hissing of that foul snake. Ssssssssinner!, it called out again and again as he heard it disappearing somewhere in this wood, leaving him to his torturous thoughts. He put his head down into the dirt, a tear flowing from his eye, trying to bury the thoughts again. 
Finally, he got up and on the move again, making his way back to his car. Or at least to where he thought he left his car. He was all turned around now. He winced in pain as he walked, but at this point, he could do nothing about it. The snake had done a number on him. He looked at his phone again. The clock read 10:15 p.m. He had wasted over an hour in this wood, and he couldn’t afford to let anymore time be wasted. He made his way down the path, stumbling over a rock or two before he stopped to rest. He looked around, trying to get a bearing for where he was. He looked down by his feet, and noticed something moving by his feet. He jumped, only to notice that it was a mouse, just a small mouse scurrying around. He sighed in relief, and stooped to look at him closely. He smiled, petting the top of the little creature’s head. “Where are you headed, little one?” he asked the mouse. The mouse looked up at him. Why are you running, Peter?, he heard her ask. He jumped backward, pressing his back against the tree behind him. “H-how do you know my name?” he asked hoarsely. The mouse slowly moved in his direction causing him to press harder against the tree. Why are you running?, she asked him again. “I’m not running! I’ve done nothing wrong!”, he yelled, trying to convince himself more than this terrifying mouse. She scurried over to the tree, crawling up and staring him right in the eye. Why are you running?, she asked, more firmly than she had before. “I’m not,” he breathed out, barely able to form the words. 
You lie!, heard said behind him. He turned barely able to keep his heart in his chest. There before him was a fox, a sly old fox, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. His eyes glowed a dreadful orange, and it smiled, mocking him, tempting him, begging him to run. He wanted to run, to escape the horror of this sight, but he couldn’t. His feet felt like they were glued to the floor, and his legs felt like noodles. He looked down at his feet. Move feet!, he told them. They looked like they were miles away. He grew dizzy looking at them. He rubbed his eyes, and told himself that this wasn’t real. You lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me!, the fox bellowed out angrily. He stared at the white teeth of the foxe's dastardly grin. His smile taunted him, toyed with him. He gritted his teeth angrily, chipping the edge. “I’m not lying! You leave me alone!”, he yelled at the top of his lungs. But you are running, aren’t you, Peter?, the mouse beside him asked. He looked down at her face, her cute, innocent, questioning face. He began to cry. “Why do you think I’m running, innocent mouse? Why question me so?” he asked the furry creature. “Why aren’t my answers good enough for you? I promise I’m not running.” The tears blurred his vision. He fell to his knees and leaned over on his knuckles. Liars like you should run!, the fox cackled at him. He looked up, bitterness flowing through the tears. “You don’t know me, stupid fox,” he said through his teeth. But you’re running away, Pete, the cute little mouse said. You’re running and you know why, but you won’t be honest with yourself. Why not, Pete? Why not? 
Suddenly, Pete’s eyes began to clear, and in his line of sight, right under him, was a rock, a rock that had some decent size to it. He stared at it, as the mouse’s words stun in his mind. Be honest with yourself. That wasn’t something that he could allow. He grabbed the rock, and leaned back. He looked over at the mouse, his eyes full of murderous intent. The mouse didn’t move. NO, Pete, that’s not what you wanna do! He paused for a second, then the mouse kept going. Or is it?, it asked. Anger poured into his heart. Angrily, he rushed the tree, and with all his might, he smashed the rock onto the mouse. He heard a slight squish as the bones crushed together, and blood spurted out from underneath the rock. He pulled the rock back, and let the smashed body of the mouse fall down to the forest floor. He stared at it, fear etched in his face. He stared at the dead body, which was illuminated by the moon. He chuckled nervously, only to have his fears doubled when the corpse spoke out. Why did you kill me, Pete?, she called to him. There was no sound of pain or distress in her voice, only the calm innocence that tortured him. He rubbed his forehead slowly. The fox scowled at him. You fool! He stepped closer to Pete, his wicked cackle sounding like a woman in distress. You killed her because of your lies! Pete stepped back, looking for a rock to throw at this mocking fox. He finally remembered the rock he had used on the innocent mouse. He grabbed it, and with all his might, he hurled it at the fox. He dodged. How dare you, liar!, he yelled at him, darting through the shadowy night towards him. It opened its mouth and latched onto his leg, tearing into his flesh. Peter yelled out in pain, kicking the fox off of him while he did. The fox rolled on the forest floor, then darted away into the night. Go away, liar! Go away, he called as he disappeared, leaving his words to torture Peter for the night.