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Savages Of The Forest

I

Trust is part of a bond in friendship that should be established at a pace with another overtime. My first friend, a female lioness tomboy named Key, had met me in kindergarten, and to put it short, she didn't warm up to me until we started sharing the same building blocks. Then there's my second friend, the class clown husky, Marks. He helped make the lonely two, Key and me, become three when we were all assigned a class project together for grade three. I dubbed our friendship internally as The Backwards Trio because of how we always made some error in our group for an important task. The task could be a forgotten piece to a class project to tardiness to hanging out together. Yes, us, The Backwards Trio, always goofed, but we didn't point fingers.

I can recall a time when my friend and I were working in third grade on a book project display and we accidentally forgot to put in a crucial part. The book was Freak The Mighty, and for our project, we had spent nights putting together a papier-mâch? representation of the tall main character to pretend he was holding our board with information to go with the book, but, we forgot to bring the figure we'd made. Needless to say we got a passing grade for our in-depth look into the characters background and character's mind, but, I think we'd have done better if the one who had it at their house would've made a reminder note to bring it to class.

None of my friends, or myself were completely high on the genius scale, but then again no one is really. For all those that have friends, we need to stop, breathe in, and exhale, and thank that we've got said others in such tight bonds. Being able to have pals in today's world is rare for everyone is sadly really insecure. It's poor because life wasn't always like that. Pain snowballs.

II

In my late elementary school years my friends' parents and my own parents, along with many other children's parents, had become overprotective. This was due to the fact that our small town had been hit with a vicious plague of a nightmare. Our townies were vanishing left and right without one trace for police to figure out as to where they went. Our citizen population was 500 then and the number drop by one-fourth. Yes, that was scary for us. One may not see it that way, but to us, that was a big decrease and vanishment that had hit like a big punch to the face. It made none of us young happy, but, it was something we had to put up with, despite feeling blue.

The disappearances spanned all ages from little ones, to middl, even the elderly. This added even more shock and had security setup everywhere to attempt to capture the abductor(s) that had infected our home with fear and fierce beating hearts. Banks for example had multiple security cameras and two security guards instead of one. Schools had two added security guards, many security cameras, and a police car with a cop stationed in the parking lot to keep an eye on the youths that went there. Police cruisers patrolled the streets more during the day and night hoping to catch who was terrorizing this quiet little land of theirs. It was depressing to be honest.

The terror did seem to come to an end, though the security and protection did not. The law still circled like sharks waiting for a swimmer to jump in, so as to dive towards prey and tear him, or her, limb from limb. From the recesses of my memory I recall my friends and me at the play ground when I was in fourth grade talking about what we thought fifth grade would be like to avoid talking just about the abductions. We heard shouting and a howl that made us snap our heads. Our eyes caught the cops arresting a hooded wolf with high eyes who struggled against the officers. An example of our town's hell. My friends and I left to do something else.

III

Back in the early days various circles of friends did activities that suited to the seasons. Here's an example of what I mean: In summer friends would more than likely play outside partaking in catch, baseball, football, soccer etc. In winter there would be more playing board games, or perhaps going out into the snow, if there was any, and then coming in for a nice cup of cocoa. Now during our time, we did little sports or playing in the snow. It's not that we didn't like indulging in such mindless joy, but it just wasn't something we really had a care about. In fact we just didn't think of it often. Our minds really were different growing up.

My friends had an activity that would be considered odd by today's standards, but back during our era, it might be considered something quite cool. It'd really depend on the judge and juror at the time if the point can be seen. My friends had a hobby, or liked to indulge in old fashion puppetry. I mean, they sculpted, formed string puppets out of their own materials they saved up with their own money by allowance from their parents. Sometimes they'd put on shows for me to watch and to be honest they were quite good. In all honesty, my friends could do performances better than something like Howdy Doody. My friends had better class to me.

Now, I have a confession to make. They one time offered to teach me how to make a puppet and to control it, but, my brain had me turn them down. To be honest, the shows they did were good, but to actually go through the process to make one myself like them and then do a show like them, it just wasn't for me. My tastes were much different than theirs and when this good friend of theirs first told them they were a bit heart broken. However, they understood, and told me that not everyone gets into the kick of puppetry. It really is an acquired taste that has to happen early on in one's life. I thanked both for getting it and asked if I could have another show.

IV

There's a forest outside our town that's vast and wide. It has hundreds of trees that are mainly oak, but there are some apple and maple. It makes going to the forest sometimes fun if one is going out with the family on a picnic. Just have to watch out for the poisonous mushrooms, ivy, and deadly insects. The listed has killed, or seriously harmed citizens that have come across it whether it be the past, or now. Still, it's good to go in the forest just for the apples and syrup alone. No parent in their right mind, especially during the vanishment of other citizens, would let their kids go to the outside woods without their supervision. Thank goodness for smart thinking parents, or else our stated population would be even less. Ah, but I'm rambling, sorry.

In this forest though, to add and process my recollected memory, is a house in ruins. It's a standard ranch style house, or one level home in layman's terms, even though some have a basement, or cellar. Despite that tad bit of spewing at the end of my last sentence, this home, it's been abandoned for years. And long ago, my friends and I were traveling late at night, and stumbled across this home. Sure, we were going against our parents wishes, but by this time, we were in fifth grade and having a snippet of a rebellious attitude. We weren't teens, but pre-ones, and my brain sends me a visual in my head. We entered the home, were a bit sick at the smell of something awful. We spotted a turned on television and saw a tape on the floor in front of it. I picked it up and put it in for them. The television went black and after a second came back on.

"What the hell?" Marks had gone white with the display on the video. "What is this?"

"I..." Key turned away and ran outside. Everyone's ears caught her vomiting. "Stop it!"

On screen familiars wasted one another in dark woods. It was savagery. Eyes got ripped out, heads smashed, and some killers were hung by their own intestine. No one screamed at all.

V

My friends and I stared at the static television. The tape of the horrific events our eyes and ears had caught to be stored on our movie selection brain recesses left us sick temporarily. It was as if all the joy had left us inside and out. This video had shown us the depravity of all those that had ever lived. It's scary to think that by catching one visually, scent, sound, taste, or touch of something unappealing can turn into a downright horrible fear that'll never leave. If it pops up again we'll just cower and rock in a circle attempting to tell ourselves it's ok when it really isn't.

"Hey, what's this?" Marks and I turned to see that of all of us Key had been the first to come back to existence. She was over by a chain that had been caught in the T.V.'s light. "I wonder where this leads to."

Both us boys followed her, who in turn followed the chain to a trap door. She lifted up the trap door and found it led down into a passageway. The curiosity scale rose and though it was probably not the best idea we traveled down the steps, which spiraled down, they kept going down, down, deeper, and deeper until we arrived at a brown wooden door that had a marionette symbol carved onto a metal plaque that was posted on the door. Key opened the door and we stepped inside to find the place was fully lit by lamp light. However, our skin fell off us.

"Dear sweet heavens!" My friends screamed. "What gore have we found?"

I backed up and closed the door quietly behind them. They walked up to an altar while I reached behind a chair that was next to a door and grabbed a crowbar. They were examining a piece of blue paper, blue prints that were for something special. My feet moved my body quietly and with a quick heavy swing both friends were killed. To recall right, like present, a smile came to me, for in the under part of this house, were my own puppets made out of machine and flesh.