Elanor

A man searches for his lover. He uncovers a darkness. Does he live or die?

Heart hammering, Daryl stepped toward the woods, the trees groaning as the wind pushed against them. An image of his wife, Elanor, filled his mind. He sighed, and his eyes began to water. The last time he had seen or heard from Elanor, she was taking the dog for a walk in the woods, only she had never returned.
With another sigh, he took a small step into the woods, when someone moved behind him. He turned to see his daughter, Selma, watching him.
‘Why are you not in bed? It’s freezing out here,’ he said. ‘You could catch a cold.’
As if to prove his point, Selma shivered and wrapped her gown tight about her. ‘I want to help you find mummy and Nellie,’ she said.
‘No, it’s too dangerous,’
‘But you’re going,’ Selma looked at Daryl, her bright blue eyes shining in the moonlight.
‘I need to find your mother. Now go inside,’
‘But-’
‘I’ve already told you Selma. You’re not coming,’ He glanced at the woods then turned back to his daughter. ‘I’m not going to say it again.’
Selma opened her mouth to protest further, but Daryl held up a hand, stopping her from speaking.
‘Go,’ he said sternly.
Selma hung her head then turned around, and with a final glance at her dad, ran to the house. Then she was gone, the door closing behind her. Daryl turned, and looked about at his surroundings, remembering when he and Elanor had first brought the house. Selma had been nothing more than a baby then.
He looked at the willow standing tall before his home, a swing tied to one of the lower branches. It swayed as though someone had recently been on it, and Daryl turned away.
Then, pulling his phone from inside his pocket, he stepped into the woods.

*
Daryl followed the path, thankful for the light that guided him. Then his heart began to sink as he thought of his wife. What if I don’t find her? he thought as he glanced about, feeling eyes on him. He knew he was not alone.
Suddenly, something moved in the bushes, and his heart skipped a beat. He paused and shone his torch into the darkness. At first, all he saw were the shadows receding from the light, then he saw a black figure move deeper into the trees.
‘Elanor? Is that you?’ he called. A tree groaned somewhere to his left, the only answer he got. Then something moved in the bushes, and he took an involuntary step back, twigs snapping beneath his weight.
Suddenly, a fox emerged from the underbrush, darting into the shadows. His phone dropped from his hand, landing on the ground with a crack.
‘Shit,’ he said as he crouched to retrieve his phone. He picked it up, his hand shaking. He thought about his wife, stumbling around in the dark, scared. Then it changed to an image of his wife lying lifeless on the ground, and he took a deep breath, the image vanishing from his mind.
He began walking again, when he heard the bloodcurdling scream of foxes. His skin crawled, and his hair stood on end as he looked about, wary. There’s nothing to be scared of, he thought, trying to compose himself. It’s only a fox. But he wasn’t so sure as the sound came again, sounding less animal and more…human.
Without thinking, he began to run, crashing through the underbrush that over hanged the path. The ground was hard at first, then gradually became spongy with wet pine needles. His breathing came out in sharp gasps as he sped up, his lungs screaming in protest as they burned.
Suddenly, pain shot up his leg, and the ground rushed up to meet him. He grunted as he hit the floor, his body aching from the impact. Groaning, he slowly hoisted himself upright when something warm trickled down his face. He lifted a hand to his head, prodding at the cut hidden in the fringes of his hair. He sighed, then stood, wiping his hands on his trousers. He took a step forward and froze. The screaming had stopped, he was well aware of that as he stared into the clearing before him.
Bushes and trees ringed the outskirts of the clearing, and beyond them the impenetrable darkness. He shivered as he stared ahead, the feeling of something or someone watching him, becoming too unbearable. He shone his light about the area, the beam lighting up the ground where forest litter sat, trampled and broken.
‘Elanor? Are you here?’ he called, expecting his wife to appear. She didn’t. ‘Elanor?’ He stepped further into the clearing, when he noticed a huge form lying on the ground at the edge of his light. He cautiously moved toward it, his feet moving on their own accord. Finally, the thing lay before him, and his blood ran cold.
It was Selma, her arms wrapped tightly around an animal, whose fur was coated with what looked to be blood. Daryl bent to the ground and touched his daughter’s arm. She made a small sound and looked up at her father, her eyes red and puffy, tears still drying on her face.
‘What are you doing here?’ Daryl asked, glancing at the blackness beyond his light.
Selma sniffled, then answered. ‘I tried to follow you, but I didn’t know which way you’d gone,’
‘But I told you that you couldn’t come because it’s too dangerous. What if I lost you as well? What would I do then?’
Selma stared at him, biting her lower lip, then she began to sob. Daryl sighed and shook his head. He held his daughter tight against him as she cried. ‘I told you to stay inside while I find your mother,’ he muttered. ‘Why didn’t you listen?’
‘I was scared you would never come back,’ she snivelled and pulled away, her expression changing to concern as she stared at her father. ‘What happened to your head?’
‘I fell,’ he said. Selma nodded, then turned to look at the animal once more, fresh tears falling.
Daryl followed her gaze, feeling as though a cold hand had wrapped itself around his heart, squeezing. The animal on the ground was their pet, Nellie, blood and dirt coating her usually golden fur. No, no, no… he thought as he stared at the dog. Where was Elanor if Nellie was here…dead?
He buried his hand into Nellie’s fur thinking back to the days when she had been alive. He remembered when she had come to him for belly rubs, her tongue lolling from her mouth.
He slowly pulled back, staring at the dead animal, when he saw movement at the edge of his vision. He stood, and pointed his light toward it, but the thing was faster. It moved to another part of the trees, staying away from the light. Daryl grabbed Selma, pulling her to her feet as he watched the darkness. He knew the thing was watching them as he started to drag Selma away from the dead animal.
‘We have to go,’ he whispered.
‘But what about mummy? We need to find her,’ Selma tried to break free, lashing out at Daryl, but he tightened his grip on her arm.
Elanor’s gone, he thought as tears began to form in his eyes. Then he heard something crash through the bushes either side of them, and he froze. He stared ahead at the thing stood, just shy of the light. It was staring right at them.
Daryl watched it a moment longer, then began to pull Selma in the opposite direction. ‘Come on Selma,’ he muttered, but the younger girl wouldn’t budge as she stared at the figure before them. Daryl yanked harder on his daughter’s arm, and she staggered with a small cry of pain.
‘That hurt,’ she whimpered.
‘We need to leave, Selma,’ Daryl replied, and began walking backward. He wasn’t letting this thing out of his sight.
Suddenly, it was standing in the light, and he stopped. His heart raced, and he took a step back, staring.
‘Elanor,’ he whispered, but his wife only stared, her expression flat. Blood covered her face and clothes, and it matted her hair, mixing with the dirt and leaves. Her clothing was torn, exposing the skin beneath. Her right leg was covered in blood, her skin ripped and flayed. The white of her bone was visible from the wound, and he took another step back.
‘What …?’ his voice trailed as his mind went blank. How can she still be alive?
Elanor cocked her head to the side and smiled, although it never reached her eyes. She opened her arms, as though expecting a hug, and Selma broke free of Daryl’s grip, running toward her mother. She jumped into Elanor’s outstretched arms and buried her face into her mother’s chest.
‘Selma,’ Daryl said, taking a step forward. ‘Please move away from her.’
Selma didn’t reply.
‘Please Selma,’
Elanor was watching him, her eyes narrowed into slits. Then she smiled as she pulled away from Selma, staring into the young girl’s eyes. Her smile widened as she stared at her husband.
She grabbed either side of Selma’s head, and with a sickening crunch, twisted it. She held Selma’s lifeless form a moment, then she dropped the body.
A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the wood, but the sound never came from Elanor, it was coming from Daryl. He fell to his knees, the wetness of the pines seeping into his jeans as he grabbed his daughter, her neck hanging limply. He buried his face into his daughter’s hair and cried out once more, the sound muffled. Then he looked up to see Elanor watching him, the smile gone from her face, replaced with a flat look once more.
‘Kill me,’ he whispered, and Elanor stared. ‘Just kill me.’ He begged. He didn’t have anything left to live for.