Foliage 

Warning: this story contains a bit of horror

October 25th

I first noticed the black leaves on the last Friday of October. 

“Hey, have you ever seen leaves that colour?” 

Russell looked up from his phone. “Dunno,” he said after a second. “Maybe it’s just the type of tree.”

Looking up, the trees looked no different than they had any other year. Most were mixed with soft oranges, bold yellows, and dull browns. But there seemed to be, scattered randomly, a few trees with leaves so black they could have been dipped in ink. Some were losing foliage, but so many still had blackened leaves still clinging to their branches.

“I’ve walked past Manlock Wood every day for the last two years, and I’ve never noticed anything unusual,” I puzzled. “Why do only a few have black leaves?”

“Maybe they’re diseased?” Upon saying that, Russ took a step back from the nearest tree, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 

“No, that’s not it.” I’d researched diseased trees before for a science class. Typically when leaves turned black it was because they had become infected with bacteria that left patches of black rot. This was different. I turned toward the nearest tree, and leaned in to examine its leaves. It seemed less like it was rotting, but rather almost animated. I drew closer to the tree, captivated with curiosity. 

“Ow!” I retracted as my foot stumbled on a root. It was curvy and nearly as dark as the soil it sprang from. Scanning the area, I noticed that the roots of the other trees with ink-coloured leaves were somewhat twistier, and protruded out of the ground in an odd way. 

“Nicole,” Russ gave me an annoyed look. “Are you coming or not?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Ugh, fine.” 

Russ changed the subject, going on to talk about something that happened in History. We walked for another 10 minutes before parting ways towards our respective streets.

“Nic, it’s nothing. Don’t worry. You do this to yourself too much.” 

I sighed. He was right. It was nothing. It wasn’t my business what happened in Manlock Woods. 

November 1st

I hadn’t seen Russ today. We usually walked home together, due to us living within five minutes of each other. I looked over his text from this morning, reading:

Had to run back to the Wood. Dropped my AirPods last night. 

I knew he passed through Manlock while he was out on Halloween. I also knew that Russ treated his AirPods like children, so how the hell he dropped them baffled me. 

Out of boredom, I reach for my phone, and open Instagram to kill the time, and go to my Stories. My thumb tapped past happy birthday messages, cat videos, and photos of classmates posing at Halloween parties. Then I reached Rachel Pace’s story. Bright red font caught my eye. The word Missing: Please Read was written above a mirror photo of a blonde girl in a red tank top, leggings, and a silver necklace. I held down. The post read:

Mackenzie was last seen Tuesday. She left school and didn't come home. If you have any information, please contact…

I scrolled on. I didn’t know Mackenzie personally, but I’ve heard about her from Rachel, who used to go to school with her at Greenfield, the school near Manlock. For some reason, knowing that made me feel uneasy. The image of the inky black trees with twisting roots flashed in my mind. I looked at the clock. It was almost 5. With or without Russ, I needed to get home before it got dark. 

Despite the early hour, the sky was already beginning to darken, going from a clear blue, to a glowing shade of deep periwinkle, indicating the start of the evening. As I began my lonely walk home, I thought about Russ. It was odd without his casual presence. We had only begun to walk home together the last few months, but seeing him had become a high point in my day. I smiled thinking of him. I even thought I heard his voice in the wind. 

“Nicole.” I stopped dead in my tracks. That didn't sound like the wind. “Nicole, help…” I snapped my head, towards the woods, only to find no one there. Just keep walking Nicole, you’re just hearing things- 

“Nic, please…” Someone rasped. That was definitely not the wind. 

I ran into the trees, screaming “Russ, RUSS WHERE ARE YOU?” 

“Nicole, I-”  a choking sound cut off the voice. I shot around, and my heart dropped. A shadow stood by one of the random black trees about 10 metres away. I couldn’t see his face, but I could see the twisting roots slowly squeezing its limbs and torso. 

“Nic-,” the wind screamed, as if on its own, one of the twisted roots snaked itself around the figure’s neck.

My heart pounded with fear. I looked up at the tree nearest to the shadow, and noticed something odd. Towards the top of the tree, the leaves were a golden yellow. But on the branches closer to the roots, the leaves were as black as night. I turned to sprint away, and I fell over onto my hands, my foot caught on a root. Caught on a long, curvy black root I could have sworn wasn’t there a second ago. I peeked back to see if the shadow was still there. And when I saw that it wasn’t, I didn’t look back.

November 2th

I didn’t sleep a lot last night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the shadow, wrapped in roots, slowly strangling him down into the ground. I swore to myself I must have just seen something. 

I tried to call  Russ at least a dozen times. No answer. His absence from school put me on edge. I began to walk home without anyone beside me for the second day in a row, when I eventually reached the point where I passed Manlock Wood. I picked up the pace.

“Nicole, NICOLE…” I heard again. Just keep walking, just keep walking…

“HELP…ME…”  in Russ’s voice, followed by a choking sound rang in the wind. A rush of panic burst in my veins. I looked between the road and the entrance to the woods, debating my course of action. "HELP… ME…:" And upon hearing the cry, I did something I probably would regret later: I took off into Manlock Woods.

“Russ?” My voice echoed past the surrounding trees, as my feet pounded against the ground. "RUSS?"

Surveying my surroundings, I noticed that a significant number of the trees with leaves remaining had begun to change to black. That’s when in the darkness, a shiny piece of silver caught the corner of my eye, near another tree with inky leaves. Upon looking closer, I noticed a small chain. Gingerly reaching for the treasure, I lifted a nameplate necklace, and ran my thumb over the plaque to remove the dirt. The chain felt cold and a chill went down my spine. In pretty cursive script, the name Mackenzie was engraved within it. My breath stopped, as the clearly obvious presumption ran through my head. It could be a different Mackenzie, it’s not necessarily the one Rachel posted about. The phone screen wasn’t steady in my shaking hands as I reopened Rachel’s story about her missing friend. In her mirror selfie, Mackenzie was wearing an identical nameplate to the one in my hand.

“No, no, no,” I stammered, panic filling my voice. Then I heard it again.

“Nicole?” That echo sounded eerily like Russ. Slowly, I turned around to see the same figure as yesterday, near the same tree, except now, almost every leaf was the colour of obsidian. I clearly saw his face, as the roots pulled Russ further down into the soil. Another root snaked out of the tree, wrapping around his torso. A scream left my mouth.

“RUSS!” I ran towards my friend. Up close, the scene was even more terrifying, with creeping vines and soil covering my friend almost completely. He was pale, from lack of circulation, with his skin scraped from the cold and rough branches. I yanked and pulled at the roots, but no matter the strength my adrenaline provided, they wouldn’t budge, seeming to grow tighter with each pull.

“Nic,” he whispered heavily, gasping for air. “You need to-”

That’s when I felt something squeeze my right leg. Another dark root was curling up around my ankle, and onto my shin, tightening every second. Another climbed up around my left arm, another wrapped around my ribs, constricting my lungs. I could feel my circulation begin to falter as the roots pried my hands away from Russ’s binds, dragging me to the ground, towards a tree a metre away. 

"NIC!" I heard him scream breathlessly as the sprigs of root ripped me away from him. I pulled away with every force of my being, and yet, the roots held strong. Adrenaline pounded through my veins, as more and more thick, twisted roots curved around my clothing, tearing through the fabric. My skin burned as I felt the rough bark scraping against it, wearing it down. 

“No,” I croaked, as I noticed the vine reaching up towards my throat. I wouldn’t die here. I couldn’t. I looked up at the tree above me, to a branch with a few scattered leaves still remaining. And I watched as the vibrant leaves above me began to turn to black.

By Chase Godfrey