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Rated: E · Fiction · Contest Entry · #2268589
The Woodland Of Weir for Whatever Contest
The Woodland Of Weir Word Count 696

Reed Rubensalmen woke up cold, freezing cold, lost and confused. He had woken up that morning to find himself in a howling wilderness of tall dense trees, covered with dense fog. Reed did not know how he got there, wherever there was, nor did Reed remember much of his prior life. All Reed knew was he was Reed Rubensalmen, late of Berkeley, California where he ran a restaurant.

Reed got up off the damp forest floor and stood up to survey his situation. Frankly, it was not good. He had the clothes on his back, a backpack containing a coat, a book of Poe’s poetry, a pen, and a bottle of water. He had nothing else he would need to survive in a hostile wilderness, - no matches, no weapons and most importantly no food.

Reed looked around the woods and saw that he was in the middle of a dense grove of tall trees, of a strange species he had never seen before. As far as he could see in the dense fog the forest went on and on.

Reed decided that the only thing to do was to walk to the end of the forest and see if he can find any signs of civilization, or at least get some food and water somewhere.

Reed started walking and walking and the forest seem to go on and on. After an hour of walking he heard a noise. He came up to a Clift and saw through the fog that there was a stream running down at the bottom of the steep canyon.

He was contemplating whether to try to walk down the canyon when he heard a noise. He looked up and saw two big ravens staring at him. Reed yelled at them, “Say, bird, do you know where I am?”

The birds laughed at Reed. One then says, “Reed, you are in the Ghoul haunted Woods of Weir.”

Reed said, “Where?”

The bird said, “Precisely, where. The ghoul haunted woods of weir. There is no escape from here. All who enter die. So sad, we’ve seen it all before. Love to help but there is no escape. You are doomed to die here all alone except for the ghouls who will hunting you soon for their evening meal.”

Reed looked at the birds, and said “am I dreaming or on drugs? Is this real?”

The birds laughed and laughed and assured him that it was as real as any nightmare but he would never wake up. They advised him to give up and wait for the end to come. The ghouls haunted in the early night they said. But there was one trick Reed could try – get down to the river and sail away to the town at the bottom of the canyon. If he managed to get out there he might survive. But probably not. The birds concluded, “Human, probably you are going to die. Well, nice talking to you, best of luck all of that.”

Reed looked down at the canyon wall and saw a faint outline of a path that led down to the river and at the bottom of the river he saw some logs – perhaps he could fashion some sort of raft from the logs and make his way down stream. Reed had no idea what a ghoul was but did not want to wait to find out either. Reed did not trust the birds were telling him the truth, for some reason these birds seemed to omens of bad luck. Reed got to work and slowly picked his way down the steep path towards the bottom of the canyon and finally made it down. It was mid day then and the fog was starting to lift.

Reed looked up at the cliff above and thought he saw something moving through the trees. Something large, and vaguely wolf like. He stared but did not see anything more. Then he heard the howling of the wolves and saw them – a pack of them on top of the cliff. The ravens flew overhead and landed next to the wolves. Reed also heard the ravens and the wolf like things talking.

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