Three days, that’s how long it’s been since this nightmare began. What will this maniac have me do next? First there was the goat dissection. I shudder to think what he plans on doing with those organs. Then there was the fresh, steaming piles of animal manure I was forced to sift through. Why does Mr. Winston have so large a supply of feces? When I imagined this position, I was under the impression I would be unlocking the secrets of the cosmos, not trying to determine what kind of animal passed what kind of object.
A knocking jerked me from my homesick haze. It was Dr. Winston, ready to scold me.
“Mr. Taylor, as my apprentice I expect you to rise at the cock’s crow. You’ll never become a true man of science lazing about in bed. Besides, I have need of your…assistance.”
Dear lord, what inane project will this madman conjure next? Perhaps he desires me to unclog his drain with my naked hand.
Throwing on my stained coat, I shuffled down the creaky stairs, fearfully awaiting my next assignment. “Yes Mr. Winston, how may I assist you?”
He turned to face me. Thankfully, his task was not as repulsive as I feared. “Ah yes, thank you for finally showing up. I dare say I’m having trouble tying this infernal thing around my neck!” Throwing a tie into my hands, he motioned for me to fasten it around his neck.
“Ah, no problem Mr. Winston. I’ll just stand behind you thusly and get you set.” I watched his body language as I looped the fabric, he was shaking from anxiety, his nerves getting the better of him.
“To what occasion do we owe this fine manner of dress?” I asked, eager to hurry him along.
“Good news my chap! I will be meeting with the good lady Mrs. Dupont, a very wealthy, and well-connected socialite. If all goes well, she will be our newest source of funding, allowing our work to continue unimpeded.”
What joy, now I can sift through waste until I’m grey and feeble. “That’s wonderful news Mr. Winston. Does this mean you will be stepping out?”
Grabbing his hat off the rack, he slammed a button jutting from the wall, causing the front door to open. “I’m afraid so my loyal apprentice. But have no fear, I shall return before sundown.”
Take your time you mumbling cove. “I shall eagerly await your return,” more like dreadfully.
Just as he passed through the doorway, he pivoted around and said, “You know my good man, perhaps this would be a choice opportunity to introduce yourself to some of the folks in town. They are an…interesting, simple people, but it may do you good to socialize. And while you’re in town, pick up some salt from the general store. I have an experiment that requires several pounds.”
Waving goodbye as he walked into the forest, I shouted, “Why of course Mr. Winston, what an excellent idea. Perhaps a walk about town is just what I need to brighten my spirits.”
Slam!
“Or deaden my already atrophied brain.”
Alone at least! An entire day with no lunatic to lord over me, punishing me with trivial grunt work. What to do what to do? Ah! Perhaps I will tinker with a few of my own inventions.
Practically running up the stairs, I burst into my quarters and got to work on one of my latest designs. Anyone can own a gun, but not everyone can own a gun that need not be cocked before each round is fired. Once I complete the automated mechanism, I will posses one of the only, if not the only, automatic pistols in the world. I could stay like this forever, peering through a magnifying glass, tweaking the gears and cylinders until they move in perfect harmony. Hours did indeed go by, so engrossed in my work was I that I completely forgot to head into town for salt.
Putting the pistol back in it casing, I cleaned up to the best of my abilities and began the trek to the general store. A favorite pastime of mine was identifying the various plants growing among the trees. Raspberry Bush, Wild Garlic, White Aster, Wormwood, so many species of flora with so many uses it was a wonder the peoples of this town get sick. I suppose without my vast botanical knowledge they don’t know any bett-
Woah...What kind of track is that?
In the mud, just besides my foot, was an animal track I had never seen before. Not in any of the university textbooks, nor in any tracker journal. Hmm, four toes…and a knuckle print? No, no, that can’t be right. No creature in the entire world has a print such as this, not even a gorilla. Still, the tracks exist, leading out into the river. If the gape is accurate than this animal is at least nine feet tall! Could there be some truth to the legends of these woodlands? That a horrific beast lurks within?
No! I don’t think so sir! This could very easily be a hoax! The work of an overeager prankster no doubt. Well nice try adolescent fool. It will take much more than phony footprints to shake my faith in science.
Now in town, I made my way over to the storefront, hoping to get in and out without more contact with the townsfolk than necessary. As I approached the swinging doors, an argument came into earshot, emanating from inside. Continuing in, I eavesdropped as I walked about the store.
“I saw it, swear on my grandmother’s grave!” One of the gentlemen was crying aloud, his hands waving in the air.
“You been drinking again Harold?” The man beside him inquired, looking him over and smelling his breath.
Harold shook his head side to side and continued with his ranting. “I was sober as a babe when I saw that beast swaying through the trees! So big was the creature, its outline was still visible from one end of the river down on to the other.”
“Sure, it was your lecherous fool.” His friend mocked, unconvinced by his tale.
I listened intently as Harold insisted the truth of his encounter.
“Down by the river the beast was walking, its torso still visible as it passed through the deeps. Turning around, it looked at me with its green, glowing eyes, snarling as I looked on. No sooner did it appear than did it disappear on the other side.”
“I’ve heard enough of your drunken exploits!” His companion shouted. “Clean yourself up and stay off the bottle!” Storming out of the store, he cursed to himself, his groanings fading into the background as he moved behind the building.
Curious, I made my way to dirty old man. “Mr. Harold, is it?” I asked, second guessing just how much I cared to learn about this strange man.
His bloodshot eyes met mine, a sweaty hand extended. “Harold Balasko, pleased to meet you good sir.” He looked down at his hand, waiting for me to grab it.
I did, wincing as the sweat from his palms coated mine. “Nice to meet you Mr. Balasko, my name is Benjamin Taylor. I say, I was intrigued by your supposed encounter with this…Forest Walker, as I have heard it called. Care to recount it to me?”
His face lit up; he must have been shocked another person cared to speak with him. I may regret this decision yet.
“Well, it’s as I said young sir, the beast was walking among the waters of the river when it looked back at me and nearly scared me to death. Rumor has it the creature is a man eater, and I was almost certain I was next!”
Taking out a notepad, I began to record his testimony. “Right, right, and could you describe the creature’s appearance for me?”
“Well, it was eight, maybe nine feet tall, ink black fur with two massive, clawed arms. Eyes a piecing green and breath so fowl it could burn a hole in a ship’s hull.”
Hmph, that’s a bit unnerving. The description he’s giving is compatible with what I deduced from the tracks I saw earlier. Id better get some more specific information before moving this case’s status from unlikely to possible.
“Now Mr. Balasko, this creatures’ hands…how many digits would you say it contained?”
He began to squint his eyes, a look of uncertainty growing on his face. “I’m sorry sir but, I don’t quite recall. It was dark and I was in complete shock.”
Closing my notepad, I ran through the facts in my mind. Mr. Balasko claims he saw the beast by the river, his muddy shoes and pantlegs confirm his presence. He also claims the beast walked across the river, much like the tracks I found earlier. However, it also appears he is a chronic drunk, as well as a lonely outcast. While I can’t say for sure, all signs point to him as the prankster.
As I grabbed the salt from the shelf, he latched onto my arm in a panic. “You believe me, don’t ya mister?”
“Please unhand me Mr. Balasko, I almost dropped the bag.”
A voice called out from behind, a commanding one at that.
“Harold, leave my customer be!”
“I was just telling him what I saw is all!”
“I don’t want to hear it you kook! Get on back to your run down shed and drink yourself stupid like you do every day.”
With a sullen look, Harold shuffled out of the store, swearing up and down he wasn’t lying.
“Sorry about that sir. He doesn’t mean no harm.”
“Its quite all right Miss?”
“Mary… just Mary. No need for all the mister and misses stuff round here.”
“As you wish Mary. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Salts gonna be a dollar,” she stated, pointing to the bag in my hand.
“Yes, of course, here you are.”
“Thank you kindly,” she quipped.
“So does Harold come up with a lot of stories?” I asked, hoping to determine a pattern of behavior.
She let out a long sigh before saying, “Harold’s a drunk, no doubt about it. But this so-called Forest Walker, well I wish I could say it’s a myth. Thing is, so many people round town have claimed to have seen it that it’s getting harder for me to stay a skeptic.”
“So, you’ve never seen it?”
Shaking her head, she replied, “No, I’ve never seen it but, late at night, when the winds are silent and not a mouse is stirring, I swear I hear strange howls echoing out through the forest, howls that ain’t come from no animal I’ve ever heard before.”
A tingle ran down my spine, the walk back home will far less relaxing with all this monster talk.
As I stepped outside the store, Mary cackled and shouted, “Stick to the path city boy, or you may just find yourself to be its next victim.”
Great…What a soothing reassurance as I venture back alone. Now on the dirt path leading back to the lab, the feeling of being watched took hold.
Don’t panic Benjamin, its all just crazy country talk. The only monster out here is the one in your imagination. If you don’t panic everything will be okay.”
Snap!
“AH!”
Now in a sprint, I leaped and slid under the fallen trees that blocked the path, eager to make it back to the lab and slam the door behind me. Was that the sound of a broken twig, crushed under foot by a giant monster? Who cares! Just keep running and don’t look back!
Hurdling up the stairs, I jiggled the door handle, panicking as it struggled to open.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, got it!”
Slam!
Heaving deep, heavy breaths, I slid down the door and onto the floor, fighting the embarrassment of my panic induced triathlon.
Bang, bang, bang!
“Ah!” I shouted as a pounding shook the door.
“Benjamin old boy, its Dr. Winston! Do open the door if you could be so kind.”
“Sorry doctor, please come in, let me help you with your bags.”
“Many thanks young apprentice. Did you happen to get the salt I requested?”
Picking the bag off the floor I replied, “Yes indeed.”
“Good! Now, follow me to the common space Mr. Taylor, we have much to discuss.”
ns18.232.179.5da2
