Original Flash Fiction: Into the Woods

The clouds rolled in as Sharon parked in her driveway. She sat there for a few minutes before going inside, pondering the immensely bad day she’d had.
It started off with her being late for work, the first time in nine years. Her boss had been waiting for her reports, and her lateness made him late which made him unhappy. No, unhappy wasn’t the word. Unhinged fit better. She’d left his office feeling assaulted and ashamed at having performed so poorly, even though she had been the top sales manager for five years running. Walking back to her office she thought it all felt a bit off - too intense for being a mere ten minutes late.

But before she could think about it for long, she was hit by a cart full of old desktop computers the IT guy was taking to recycle. The metal cart had ripped her nylons and left her with a bloody gash on her left calf and bruising on her thigh and hip. He hadn’t even apologized but instead glared at her as he picked up the equipment that had fallen to the ground.

The rest of the day continued like that. Everything went wrong from the vending machine taking her money without dispensing her granola bar to the afternoon coffee burning her hand. The harrowing drive home topped it off, and she considered herself lucky to have just lost a fender to a drunk, uninsured motorist.

Finally opening the car door, she glanced up at the sky. The clouds looked thick, but WeatherBug had said the rain would hold off until tomorrow. Not that she cared. She needed to run and shake off the day even if it poured and even if she was bruised and sore.

She changed into her workout clothes and grabbed her headphones before going back outside to the road. Her usual playlist blasting a little louder than usual, she headed north to the trail. It was her usual 10 km route she ran when she needed to think - or de-stress. Her body would move on autopilot while her brain sorted everything out so that by the time she returned home she’d feel normal and relaxed.

The trail into the woods looked a little darker than usual, but she thought it should with the clouds coming in. She didn’t even pause as she went from pavement to forest floor. Another half kilometer and the trees opened up onto a large pond, a swamp really except for the beavers that had built their dams to fill it up. She always slowed a little on this part of the trail to see if she could catch them working. She admired their persistence and ingenuity.

The mound that made their lodge wasn’t too far from the trail, but she had difficulty seeing it. She slowed even more but was unable to focus on it - as if it were twilight when the shapes and shadows blended together. But it wasn’t that late. She looked behind her, and she could see everything just fine.

Stopping, she stared at the beaver lodge and thought she could see a black haze swirling around it. Then she noticed the water. It too was black and seemed to have a dark fog floating just above the surface. Concerned more than worried, she started running again along the trail that continued into the woods. She thought she'd get a better view from the other side of the pond.

She pulled her headphones off her ears, letting them rest on her neck. She stopped running to listen. Nothing stirred in the forest, and she suddenly felt very alone. She squinted at the location of the beaver dam, trying to make sense of her vision lapses, and walked closer slowly. Every dry leaf she stepped on sounded like a death rattle, and she realized her hands were clenched, knuckles white. The blackness seemed to grow larger, a ravenous beast consuming the light into its depths. She heard a twig snap behind her, and spun around. 5 children with pale waxy skin approached her, eyes devoid of color. Her scream echoed through the forest, but the children closed in on her and seized her arms and legs, lifting her into the air. She struggled to break free, but they marched her relentlessly towards the black haze.

"Please! why are you doing this?" Sharon gasped hysterically. A white eyed girl responded tonelessly, "the void demands a sacrifice". Sharon felt faint, the inky blackness seemed to envelop the group, and she saw the glint of a raised knife descending towards her heart. She screamed again as the knife struck home.

"Cut! Marvelous work everyone, that scream was worth every penny. The children set her down and Sharon felt her chest. There was no blood. Sharon's relief turned to white hot fury. She stood up, screaming "You! what do you think you are doing?" A man in a White Sox ball cap replied, "Please Sharon, I understand how upset you are, but let me explain". Sharon flailed her arms helplessly, tears streaming down her cheeks. The director continued, you signed a contract 10 years ago to be in a talent pool for this. It clearly states that if you are selected for a scene you will not be given advance notice. We get some really authentic terror this way. Look at the bright side, its all over now, we have what you need, and you will be paid $25,000 per your contract.

Sharon saw men in scuba gear coming up to the surface of the pond, and lugging a fog machine to shore. The children were sitting on a log drinking from water bottles. The director continued. "It was all set up, we changed the clocks at your office to make you think you were late, the vending machine was rigged, even the guy who hit your car was an actor. We made sure he hit you when the car was stopped. Too risky otherwise. It should be fixed by now."

Sharon was visibly shaking, hugging herself. She felt used, violated to her very soul. She finally spoke, sticking her finger in the director's chest, "I was unemployed and desperate, I signed up for the $20 advance to make rent. You dirtbag! How could you? The director shrugged. "Listen Sharon, I'm just trying to make a living, we'll call you a cab OK? Be careful what you sign up for."