Whimsy

[dragonyphoenix]

Title: Whimsy
Rating: PG-13
Concrit: In comments, please
Category: My universe (not fanfic); somewhat dark
Summary: Carved into a tree strides a woman, horned with antlers. Flowers bloom in her footsteps. On the other side is a door knocker. The knocker stands out shiny and golden against the blue metal with the face of a demon, or an ancient god.  Of course, sooner or later, someone would knock.

Whimsy

Whimsy can destroy order.
 

In the foothills of the mountains, near the Pennsylvania-Maryland border, is a campground: Sacred Stones Sanctuary. Tent camping mostly although people have set up more or less permanent camps, unwilling to tear down and pack up between festivals. With a sense of permanence, comes a sense of ownership. Neo-pagan hippies are going to decorate their camps.
 

Carved into a tree strides a woman, horned with antlers. Flowers bloom in her footsteps. On the other side is a door knocker. The knocker stands out shiny and golden against the blue metal with the face of a demon, or an ancient god.
 

Of course, sooner or later, someone would knock.
 

* * *
 

Ariel, looking as flighty as her name, her young, barely nineteen, lean form covered by a tank top with a sarong wrapped around as a skirt, turned down the path that led to the swimming hole. While almost everybody else was up the hill, in the high meadow, enjoying the festival, Ariel was down below, walking through the woods and past the tents, looking for her necklace.
 

She and her friends had tried to go swimming the day before but, in late May, the water was just too cold. Only Rhiannon and Dougie were insane enough to stay in the water for any length of time. Ariel had tried, twice, to join them, each time only making it up to her hips before scrambling back to the shore.
 

As she approached the stream, Ariel saw the bench that Dougie had brought over from the Fairy Cairn so they could have a place to sit while undressing. None of them had bothered to take it back after they were done in the water. What she did not see was her necklace. She didn't bother looking past the small sandy area. If she had left it here, her necklace would have been by the bench and not in the surrounding underbrush.
 

Thinking the fairies might be hiding her necklace, she picked up the bench and carried it back. She had to go that way in any case since she'd left an offering, glittery glass beads, by the cairn the previous day while her friends were still in the water. The cairn itself was a ring of gray stone, a couple of feet across. It was cluttered with offerings: assorted plastic statues of fairies, of course; a multitude of glittery things, such as colored glass stones strewn across the base and walls of the cairn; a couple of busts, looking like ivory but actually also plastic, that wouldn't have looked out of place on Mozart's piano, at least to Ariel's modern eyes; a walking stick adorned with crystals held on by copper wire.
 

Still not spotting her necklace, Ariel directed her steps back towards the main road, also dirt but covered in gravel so cars wouldn't get stuck in the mud. In the middle of a campsite, Ariel saw a tree, lightning struck, dead but still taller than her by a good four feet. The tree was carved, on the side closer to Ariel, with the figure of a woman walking among flowers. Brushing her hand across the carving, Ariel felt a pain and drew her hand back. She removed the splinter from her finger and, sucking out the pain, she dropped the splinter at the base of the tree. Continuing on her way, she stopped at the other side of the tree. There was a door knocker, a head of a demon with curled horns. Smiling at the unexpected sight, Ariel lifted the knocker. Knock, knock, knock echoed through the woods. Amused at her whimsy, Ariel continued on her way, leaving the tree behind her.
 

The carved patterns seemed to move as the breeze picked up. It might have been the shifting of the light as the leaves were swayed about by the breeze. It wasn't. Patterns shifted. Moved. An arm reached out of the tree. A foot, shod in a deerskin boot, stepped onto the splinter; a touch of blood sparkled and then was gone. Antlers flashed as a lady's head shook itself out of the tree.
 

The earth trembled beneath her feet. The wind was suddenly still, as if afraid of her presence. Where her feet tread, a mushroom grew taller, its cap turning downward to face forward. Two slits broadened and expanded into glowing blue eyes while another, lower down, gaped out long and thin, looking more like a cut than a mouth until, with a zap, a tongue flashed out, catching a fly midair. As if following its example, another mushroom, and then another, started to grow until an army of malevolent glowing eyes follow behind the lady.
 

As her feet splashed upon the water, toads writhed in agony, growing wings, scaled tails, and sharp, poisoned teeth. They flew off, looking for something to bite. A fox screamed from the far side of the bank after they had vanished into the brush.
 

A great mass of ivy, hanging heavy on a tree, rustled with her passing. Branches thinned down into flowing hair, green and unearthly. Mottled skin peered out beneath. A face peeked out and, out of its open mouth came a mist, scented like jasmine, that left madness in the minds of man.
 

And in the lady's wake, bluebells rustled, tolling a death knell for humankind.