The Girl with no Name
In the middle of the Deadwoods, in the middle of a pouring rain, a young girl came crawling out from the middle of a hole. She was soaking wet, winded, and hadn’t the slightest recollection as to how she had ended up in that hole to begin with, or even what her name might have been, if ever she had one. More peculiar still, as she tumbled out of the hole and onto the soggy ground, was the fact that when she turned back to examine the hole, there was nothing there except for mud and sticks. She wondered, among the uproar of new thoughts, if she might have imagined it entirely.
Among the dead trees, the ravens cawed in mounting cries that seemed to herald her arrival as either cause for celebration or dire warning. Either way the ravens had meant it, she preferred they keep quiet. She preferred they give her a moment to sort through her racing thoughts, working frantically to make sense of the vacant corners and missing memories that seemed to occupy her ever-reeling mind with nothing. The forest began to twirl, and the rains that fell on every inch of her exposed skin felt like freezing needles, while the rest found refuge in the thirsty fibers of her thick, gray cloak. It grew heavier with each new drop it drank.
When first she had climbed out of the hole, her breath had come in hard, heaving gulps and her heartbeat to match it, but that was no longer the case. Her heavy breaths turned shallow and quick, struggling to keep up with her furiously pumping heart. She fell to her knees, into shallow pools of frigid mud, wrapped her trembling arms around herself, and rocked forward.
She screamed.
She screamed until her heart stopped racing and her mind stopped wandering. She screamed until her muscles were seized by it, and her breath came out in little more than a trickle. Lightning cut through the darkness, followed close by thunder. The ravens fell silent, and in the silence, a not-too-distant shriek clawed its way through the rains.
Her breathing stopped, as did her racing heart, if only for a beat. Her body trembled under the cold rain, arrested by dread. Around her, the ravens resumed their irritating cawing and stirred once more, slowly at first, fidgeting about along the dead branches, and then more frantic as the girl tentatively turned her head to catch a glimpse of what might have made the unnerving sound. The beating of rain on the soggy ground and the flutter of restless ravens were the only things she could hear, but through the misty veil of rain, among the densely packed trees, she saw something stir.
Between the twisted trunks, a shadow shambled unnaturally. She didn’t know what it was or how it should have been moving, but how it was moving made her uneasy. She moved slowly as she stood and the commotion among the ravens swelled. The thing stopped; its body as rigid as the trees that surrounded it. The girl could scarcely make out the shape, save for branches that grew from what she assumed to be its head. The head jerked. It looked right at her.
The ravens cawed.
The girl ran.
She ran as quickly as her freezing cold feet would allow her, her steps uneven on the soaked ground. Stones pounded at her feet and roots scratched at her ankles. The ravens followed alongside her. Behind, where she dared not to look, she could hear the ragged breath and splashing steps of her pursuer. The ravens fluttered in front of her, and their raising caws felt angry. She lost her footing and screamed as she fell forward into a puddle.
Amidst fluttering wings and raucous caws, she clambered to her feet. Behind her, the cry of that thing came screeching through the chaos. Left with only one direction to run, she veered left and sprinted away. The ravens took to the trees once again, trailing along her right.
Her thick cloak, which felt heavier with each step, had become ensnared on the dead branches, reaching out like skeletal hands desperate to stop her, each snapping free, too weak to hold her, as she ran. Until one didn’t snap at all.
The stubborn branch held firm, sending her tumbling to the ground. The ravens flew past her, cawed at one another, and then circled back. The girl rolled onto her back and sat up. The thing that was chasing her was still there, among the trees, charging.
Lightning lit the night.
The beast had four legs, antlers, and eyes that reflected the sudden flash of light, as though shining from the beast itself. A word came into her mind.
Buck.
She wasn’t sure how she knew, perhaps in the same way she knew that the birds were ravens and the trees were trees, but the word came to her much like lighting from the storm; illuminating up the turbulent darkness in her mind.
Ravens poured in around her, their wings a flurry of blackened feathers. She screamed in terror, closed her eyes, and held her head. It wasn’t until she heard the disturbing sound of the buck mixed with the fluttering of ravens that she opened her eyes again. Ravens pecked at the buck in a barrage of attacks. It reared up on its hind legs and swung its broken antlers wildly, while batting away with its hooves. She kept staring until another bolt of lightning and a clap of thunder finally freed the girl from her paralysis.
As if the lighting had struck her directly, she sprung to her feet and fled. The ravens raced to catch up, leaving the disoriented buck behind. To her left this time, the ravens flowed along through the trees like a dark river. It was then, like the suddenness of the lightning, that another thought snapped into her head.
Are they helping me? she wondered, not daring to look back.
Further and further, she pushed herself through the dark, dead woods that seemed to never break. A labyrinth of twisted shapes and shadows surrounded her without end. Her legs quivered and her heart pounded. Despite the cold, wet air, her chest burned more with each breath. She kept going until she could no longer hear the buck behind her and then let herself come to a rest. The ravens cawed in protest. She didn’t care. She was tired and, as far as she could tell, the danger had passed. It was only her, the ravens, and the rain left in these woods.
The tree against which she braced herself was filled with ravens, while those that could not fit took their leave. In that moment of stillness, among the persistent rain, she looked up, still not sure what to make of them. She thought to ask them what they wanted, why they were following her. She wanted to know what they seemed to know already. Where was she? How did she get in that hole? Did they know who she was?
Pointless.
Ravens couldn’t speak, she knew that. It was then she realized that she knew quite a bit more about the frightening world she’d found herself thrust into than she initially thought. Though her first memories were of her crawling out of that hole, there hid within her a deep knowledge just beyond her reach. She couldn’t explain it; she didn’t understand it, but she felt it. Yet she couldn’t begin to describe what lay beyond this graveyard of trees, only that she knew a great world existed just out of her reach.
The ravens stirred.
The girl pushed herself off the tree and sharpened her senses, filtering out the heavy rains and the mounting cries of the birds. The sound of rapid splashing approached from the dark. From where she had just come.
She turned sharply to face it, the ravens flocked between her and the sound with little warning. They batted her with their wings and cawed angrily, as if screaming, Why are you still here?
A bolt of lightning revealed why. Beyond the unkindness, the buck had found her and locked its lifeless gaze upon her once again. The thunder crashed in, as if the very storm was urging her to take flight with the ravens that had already begun to flee.
She did.
The buck closed in with little effort, disregarding any attempts the ravens made to impede its nocturnal hunt. Exhaustion weighed further upon the girl, her breath consumed, muscles faltering, and her heart threatening to burst.
A glimmer of hope arose within her.
Just as despair had threatened to engulf her, she glimpsed a break amidst the trees ahead. A surge of energy coursed through her body. Her numb feet splashed through puddles, she leaped over errant roots, and pushed herself harder as the edge of the woods drew nearer with each arduous step. Even the skies above seemed to rejoice upon her approach to the forest’s end, as the rains eased and the moonlight trickled through small gaps in the clouds above. A sliver of a smile formed on her face. Just as it did, she felt something graze her back.
She screamed as she pushed herself to run faster, instinctively glancing back over her shoulder. Relief filled her terrified heart as she witnessed the buck tumbling across the increasingly sparse forest floor, ensnared by one of the many roots she had skillfully dodged. The ravens burst forth from the woods ahead of her and within seconds, she joined them.
She nearly tripped over her own wearied steps as she put the tree line behind her. Any hint of a smile that might have graced her face only moments before had all but vanished. Greeting her now were row upon row of headstones. Without hesitation, she searched for a place to take refuge.
Across the graveyard sat a large structure.
Manor, was the name her mind placed with it. It was tall and hauntingly beautiful.
Among the headstones, ravens had found perch, most of them sitting idly atop a mausoleum. It struck in her a familiar chord. Like the manor, it was not frightening but not entirely comforting. A pale glow was cast over the night as clouds parted and the full might of the bright moon shone through. Its light revealed her surroundings with a new clarity, during which her attention was drawn back to the manor. In the large window facing her, she could make out three faces shrouded in darkness. They were looking at her, and she wondered whether they might be friend or foe. Before she could decide, the buck’s haunting cry ripped through the trees.
She chose the ravens.
She chose the mausoleum.
As she entered the stone structure, she couldn’t help but notice the word engraved above the doorway, lit clearly by the pale moonlight, its letters large and ornate, carved neatly into the stone. The gate to which had been left open.
Ophelia. She read it as easily as she crossed the threshold. She made sure to carefully close the gate behind her. To her dismay, the latch appeared to be broken.
The air inside was just as cold as outside, and the musty smell of stone, dirt, and rain came with it. The floor, however, was dry. A small thing for which she found herself immensely grateful. The tomb felt nearly inviting. In the center of it was a rectangular stone that was capped with a decorative slab. Ornate filigree swept around its borders, and in the center was the stone an image of a woman. She knew it was a grave, but the thought of what lay within did not bother her at all. Instead, a great sorrow came bubbling up from somewhere deep within her, as though she were mourning someone she knew dearly. Someone she couldn’t remember.
Ophelia. The name came to her again. It felt warm, like home.
She hid behind the stone sarcophagus and let the name swirl around in her mind. It swept through the empty corners for a connection, a memory, something to make sense of the hidden meaning in it that stirred feelings within her. There was nothing. Nothing but silence.
Silence. Where are the ravens?
The ravens had gone silent. Eerily so. The only sounds to be heard outside of her own breath were the gentle dripping remains of a rain come and gone and the faint stirring of soggy grass under hoof.
The buck. Her eyes widened.
It crept toward the mausoleum’s entrance, and with it came the sound of rapidly moving breaths. The decaying animal was searching for her scent. The girl held her breath as though it was the only thing of value in her possession. As though the beast, just a short distance from her, was coming to steal it away. The only thought that brought her comfort was the gate between them.
A sudden gust of wind blew it open.
No.
And just a few moments later, the sound of a hard hoof on harder stone reverberated throughout the small room as the buck entered, and sent a shiver rolling through the girl’s body.
She tensed, desperately trying to still herself, but she only trembled more. Her slow, shallow breaths slipped out shaky. To her, they sounded as loud as the thunder. She hoped that wasn’t true.
Another step by the undead buck, followed by another one of its shrill, gurgling cries. She jumped, then clasped her hands over her mouth. It stepped forward, around to the left of the stone island, it’s hooves lightly tapping on the stone floor. Tears formed in her eyes with the thought that she would meet her end so soon after only having just begun.
