Work Text:
The woods were quiet. Not much life running around this time of year. The trees had shed their leaves months ago and their remains lay on the ground: a hiding place for insects, a food source for the path of fungus he was following. Reds, whites, greens, yellows, most of them poisonous, probably. He didn’t know enough about them to risk eating one.
He remembered the stories about the forest-dwellers, how they marked their territory with mushrooms. He had taken precautions: iron and salt. He knew the rules: don’t eat, don’t drink, don’t kill. He kept an ear and an eye out, watched the whispers, listened to the shadows.
"Young hero.”
He started, spun, his hand slipped to the wooden baseball bat that hung off his side. Don’t kill. He scanned his surroundings, they were unfamiliar, and he knew where he was. The trees seemed to dance, their old trunks winding around shadows.
“Young hero,” the voice repeated. “Young hero, aren’t you tired? Come and rest; the world can wait a moment or two.”
The trees stopped dancing to form a path, deeper into the woods. He’d have to leave his patch of mushrooms. Before he could make a choice, he had already left them behind him. Something pushed him, from inside. It was as if someone had strung a string around his heart, and was now reeling it in.
“Come and rest, come and rest,” the voice repeated.
He passed a clear mountain stream and was suddenly very aware of the way his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. Don’t drink.
He moved along, and he thought he saw someone, darting ahead of him. Twirling, dancing, skipping. He quickened his pace, trying to catch up with the mysterious figure.
He burst out of the trees into an open field. Tall trees walled him in from all sides.
“Take a seat,” the voice said.
He tried to find the source but saw no-one.
“Down here,” the voice purred. “Can you see me now?”
A row of teeth appeared out of nowhere, forming a waxing moon. Two big green eyes opened up above them, and a body materialised. A white, majestic cat, was sat on a tree stump.
“You can speak?”
“Oh, don’t act so surprised, human. You came prepared, did you not? Take a seat, have a snack,” the cat purred, gesturing to a covered basket with his paw.
Don’t eat . “No,” he wanted to thank the cat but retreated his words at the last second.
"Hmm, no? That’s a shame. May I at least have your name?”
Beware the words that come out of your mouth. Think twice, speak once. Advice from the old and wise echoed through his head.
“You can call me Jackie,” said the hero. “May I now have yours?"
“Hmm, very well. You may call me Marvin.” They fell quiet for a while before the cat opened its maw again. “Do you know why you are here, hero?”
“My family has inherited a debt, and I’ve been summoned to pay it,” Jackie answered.
“Interesting,” Marvin hummed, “I think I’ll stick around you for a while.”
“These are free woods. Do what you can’t resist,” the string around his heart strained again, motivating him to step out of the open, through the wall of trees.
The cat followed him in silence, in and out of sight.
“Say, hero, do you know where you are going?”
“Why do you care?”
“I have a healthy will to live, is all. Do you know whose woods these are?”
“The fae folk?”
“Not just any fae folk, hero. I don’t know any fae who would go here willingly. And I know a lot of fae.”
“Yet here you are, annoying me with your questions.”
And with that, the white cat vanished. Jackie immediately regretted his words. Not many fae I know would go here willingly. What could be so terrible that it scares off the fae? He had halted to look around for the cat, but his heartstrings were tugged again, and he moved.
He caught a glimpse of white in his peripheral and knew that the cat Marvin was still following him. Why, he did not know.
It was getting dark quick, partly because the sun was setting, partly because the trees were getting taller, denser, older. He saw lights, trying to lure him, distract him, but he ignored them. He stumbled over tree roots a few times, they seemed to move into his way, as if they wanted him to fall, to rest his head on the soft moss-covered rocks.
The forest called for him to rest, but his heart refused.
There was a draft of air behind him. It was warm, moist, and smelled rotten. His heart jerked him around, and he understood what Marvin had hinted at.
The beast was huge. Drool dripped from its yellowed teeth as it panted in his face. Two big yellow eyes studied him, unblinking. There was blood under its nails and in its fur.
It growled, and Jackie understood. “Debtor. My name is Anti, and what is yours is now mine.”