Sinner's Wood: Part 9 – Life's a Beach

[Saint]

Can you escape from Sinner's wood?

I suppose when someone comes to your door on a Sunday afternoon in a cheap suit, with a fat man holding a camera, most normal people would have given him the boot.

Stanley Lucy Middriff, like everyone else, needs money.  But when it's offered to him in the shape of a phoney reality T.V. show, he makes the wrong choice.  Quickly, he finds himself in a wood, armed with only a knife, and when he stumbles upon the body of a woman, killed in a way no animal could manage, he realises something bigger is going on.

It's up to you how- or if -he survives.


Not suitable for squeamish, young, or easily offended readers.  I'm experimenting with styles, and this particular one contains lots of blood, gore, sexual references, and dark humour.

[Saint]

As I stand in the middle of the mass of trees, I wonder how it is that I always manage to get myself into this sort of crap.  I suppose when someone comes to your door on a Sunday afternoon in a cheap suit, with a fat man holding a camera, most normal people would have given him the boot.  But try as I might, I can’t deny to myself that his offer appealed to me.

“Stanley Lucy Middriff, you’ve been selected to take part in BBC1’s new reality T.V. show; Stranded!”

I see now that I was an idiot, but he promised me money.  I needed money.

Four sunsets.  That’s how long I’ve been here, and this damned place seems to have no end.  I’ve stumbled into hell, but it’s cold, lonely, and smells of animal droppings.  Why does life continue to mock me?

Day is lingering overhead, and though I can’t be sure, I guess it’s about five o’clock.  The sun has disappeared behind the range of  blue I can make out through the trees, but the sky is still alight, so it hasn’t set yet.  I begin to walk, not to find a way out- I realised long ago that there isn’t one –but to find food.  So far, I’ve survived on the two bags of crisps they gave me, but that’s something I’d eat in the two or thee hours between breakfast and lunch normally, not ration over four days.

My chest screams at me as I move.  I pass a bush which boasts fine, juicy-looking berries, but I don’t risk it; my luck would guarantee that they’re poisonous.  I hear protests from the predator that is my stomach, growling as a lion would at its prey, but I punch it lightly to shut it up.  I want to find an animal; get some meat in me.

Time ticks on and still I find nothing.  The creatures who’ve done nought but hoot and holler at me since my arrival have vanished, as if they can tell that I’m out to get them.  I don’t blame them, really; if someone were trying to eat me, I’d run for the hills too.  Not that there are any hills in this forgotten patch of the Earth.

Just as I’m about to give up, Lady Luck finally decides to throw me a bone- or a badger, in this case.  I see him in a patch of bushes: he is sticking his nose in, leaving most of the body outside of them.  I reach into my back pocket and extract the hunting knife that the man in the cheap suit gave me, just before he let the helicopter’s rope ladder down for me to abandon civilisation.  It’s long for a knife: about the length of my forearm, and the blade is black, but silver where it’s been sharpened.

The badger hasn’t moved, and I guess it’s found some prey of its own, which I resolve to cook alongside it for twice the meal.  As I approach my target, though, I know something is wrong.  Stepping towards it shifts my view of the bush, and thus, my view of what it is exactly that the badger is feasting upon.

It’s a human foot.

I stop and stare, unable to control the jaw which seems to have developed a distaste for the roof of my mouth.  Quickly, I realise that the human must be the last person that the guy in the cheap suit conned into coming here.  I step again, landing on a twig which causes the badger to flee, but he no longer interests me.

Move away from there, I tell myself, but don’t listen.  Instead I stand over the bush.  I see now that the person is female, and naked.  Any desire that would have passed over me isn’t present though, as she’s very much dead.  If the badger gnawing on her foot wasn’t enough of a clue, then the two long gashes across her chest- one slicing both breasts in half and one exposing her innards –are.  In life, I see, she was attractive.  Blonde, slim, with a layer of makeup that has been ruined by the habitat; she was the sort of person you’d expect to see in those top shelf magazines.

It is here that I realise I’m not going to get out of here.  No animal could have done this.  Accenting my thoughts, there is a loud crack nearby, and before I realise it, I’m running.  Trees pass by me, and though I’ve eaten barely anything for four days, fear keeps the adrenaline pumping.  Another crack, and my guess is confirmed; it is unmistakably a gun.

I have been brought here to die.

Decisions then!  Stanley is on the run, and armed with only a knife!  How does he survive?

Also, open questions, to be revealed during the course of the story:
Any ideas on who the woman may be, and what she may have done to deserve a death so brutal?
Or what Stanley may have done to deserve a trip to Sinner's wood?
Who is the guy in cheap suit, and what are his motivations?

[NicTei]

I'd say he makes an instinctual dash for a dark cave, forgetting that he has no light and his hunter probably does (which could be advantageous for Stanley).

As for the open questions, I'd guess the place is aptly named Sinner's Wood, as the overzealous Manny Nasoot thinks he should be the one to punish people for their sins, oddly enough tempting them into such grievous acts and such.  Of course, the woman was someone he lured into a Sin Trap, either 'Murder,' 'Lust,' or 'Gluttony.'  Stanley's mistake was going for the money without questioning it (somehow a sin in the killer's mind).

[Saint]

Interesting suggestions there.  I thought of the whole 'punish for their sins' thing, but then thought it may be a bit of a cliche.  Still, it's a god suggestion.  And I may just use Manny Nasoot.

[Chinaren]

Perhaps the gun isn't aimed at him!  He should dive for cover first, then peer out and establish if they are shooting at him or some other poor bastard.

If it's another person, try and wait until they are done for, and try and get a look at the hunters (whilst staying hidden of course).

Also, I'd check out my body to ensure they hadn't planted a tracking device on me.

If they're after him, keep running like buggery!!  

Nice start there Saint.

[Saint]

I'll leave this open for suggestions until Tuesday, then, when I've failed NaNWriMo.

And that's inteesting, China.  Initially, I thought this would be a one person at a time thing, but I guess there could be other people there, too.  *considers*

[Phang]

Sounds like the sort of thing posh crazies would do now there's a ban on hunting. Manny's just the middle-man to gather up a bunch of dudes in the middle of nowhere so hunters can chase them down. And hey, when he said 'reality TV show' maybe he was half-true...

...Anyway, if a guy with a gun was after me I'd leg it with no thought to if anyone else was there. And hope I don't trip over another body.

[Saint]

Poll is up!

Flee from the gunmen of voting!

Wait a minute, that's not right.

[Chinaren]

I've fled, and winning! 

 

[Saint]

I'll get to this once Tatter's initial editing is done.  You have until then to break the tie.

[Saint]

Great, now we have a three way tie...  Anyone to break it?

Still working on Tatter, but once that's done, I'll have to hit the dice if this is still a tie.

[Chinaren]

Well, it strikes me that you could probably merge all three of these!

[NicTei]

You mean he runs like hell towards cover, finds the cave, and puts up a fight there?

Preposterous.

[Chinaren]

Well, obviously he doesn't put up a fight.  As no one's voted for that. Duh! 

[Saint]

1 - Head for cover!
2 - Hey, a dark cave!  I wonder what's in there?
3 - Run like hell!

Rolled 1d3 : 2, total 2

[Saint]

So it's 'Hey!  A dark cave!'

Coming up now, people!

[Thunderbird]

Broke the tie.

This was quite good... immersive immediately.  I would be looking for a long stick in the near future and something to suffice as twine... a spear is better than a knife!

[Saint]

Ah, thank's muchly Thunder!

[Burningplain]

I vote for him attempting to fight back.

[Saint]

I'm still to write this...  It hasn't died, I promise.

[Chinaren]

Woo!  Eight votes!  I think that's a record for Tome! 

I look forward to seeing what you do with this Saint.

[Saint]

New chapter in the works finally.  Almost done; should be up during my lunch break.

[Saint]

   My choices are obvious.  1) I can run for cover, or 2) I can fight.  Of course, a knife is no use against a gun, and I'm not sure how many there are- or if there even are any -plus, I've already started running.  Well, there go my choices.  Another bullet screams past me, and I thank the God I don't even believe in that whoever is chasing me doesn't seem to be able to aim well.

   While I run, the scenery doesn't change at all.  Trees here, trees there, patch of soil behind that tree, bushes around this tree, bullet impacting another tree-'Fuck, that was close!  My attacker is gaining on me, obviously, and from the fact that I haven't been hit yet, I can assume that he's alone, has only one gun, and not very many bullets.  At least I have an advantage- if you could really call it one.

   I sneak a look behind me and, sure enough, there's only one pursuer: tall, muscled, fast, and waving a handgun at me frantically.  He takes another shot- which I swear almost hits me -and I snap my head forward, resolving not to look back again.  Quickly, I turn a sharp left, and for a second it feels as if I've been shot in the leg, but there was no crack of a gun, and a brief look down shows a long cut in my left trouser leg; a branch must have torn into me.  No blood yet, but it still stung when I stepped on it, and exhaustion was starting to kick in; my hunting was cut short.  Ha, the irony of it.

   If I didn't lose him soon, there was no way I'd live another day- and he was catching up fast.  The trees started to thin out here, too, so there was less for me to hide amongst.  One more bullet, and this one would have hit me, had I not been swinging my arms back and forth as I ran.

   Just as I was about to give up, I saw something in the distance, or rather, saw nothing in the distance.  Just at the edge of my vision, as the trees grew even thinner, I could see them end temporarily.  I kept running; sure, the trees gave more cover, but I couldn't turn around with a gunman catching me up.

   I reached the gap in the tree- and stopped.  It wasn't a gap in the trees; it was a gap in the ground.  About fourteen feet below me was the bottom of a collosally wide hole; I could only barely see the rest of the wood at the other end.  Two bullets this time, and some instinct pulled me in a dive to my left, out of their path, and into the hole.

   Strictly speaking, I didn't land in the hole; I hit the ground and couldn't control my roll, then bam, I'm falling.  Them ground meets me with a firm punch in the gut- I've landed on a rock -and I try to stand.  It takes a while for me to recover my breath, but I manage it.  As soon as I'm up though, I'm back on my knees, trying to hurl an empty stomach.

   All I feel is my chest trying to crawl out of my neck and onto the ground in front of me, and a wretching pain tears apart my insides.  Finally, some watery substance comes out- about as much as I could spit -and my body seems satisfied that it's got rid of anything benificiary inside it, just in time to have a bullet hit the rock I landed on.

   When I look up, I can see him perching on the edge of the ledge I fell off of, holding the gun towards me and looking like a mortal grim reaper.  That's what he's wearing, a long black cloak.  He fires one more bullet, which tunnels into the ground right next to me, then swears loudly and throws the gun at me.  I find it strange how he can miss me nine times, and then hit me square in the forehead with the gun.

   On a whim, I check the clip, and find the reason he discarded it: Out of bullets.

"I'll get you, Redwhistle!" he bellows at me.

   For a brief second, I think he's going to climb down and get me, but he disappears from my sight.  After a few minutes wait confirm he's gone, I push the gun into my pocket and inspect where the tree clipped my leg.  It wasn't a deep wound, but it was about the length of my index finger, and bleeding nontheless.

Alright, Stanley, now what?

Yes, now what indeed?  Stanley's escaped the gunman, but there may be more!  He's also got a cut in his leg which could easily become infected if he doesn't find some way to heal it, and absolutely nothing in his stomach now.  I'm also pointing out that he needs a way out of the hole, which he may or may not be alone inside.  So, dps:

1)  What now?  Look for food?  Fix his leg?
2)  What could 'Redwhistle' mean?  A mistake?  A codename?
3)  What else is in the hole with him?  Other people?  A monster?

[Angel]

Fix his leg. Tear of some of his shirt or trouser and stem the bleeding by tying a knot above it.
Redwhistle...erm mistook him for an estranged cousin who tried to stab him in the back. Name from when they were kids.
Pack of rabbits or foxes appear out of a hole somewhere but they're suspiciously calm but he doesn't realise it. Kills them eats them and then becomes calm himself. Drugged perhaps?

[NicTei]

SKELETON GOLEM!!  SKELETON GOLEM!!!

~cough~  Er...right.  I mean, there's a skeleton golem in the hole, and it wants to be the only one there.  Obviously, he needs to fix his leg, too.  And as for 'Redwhistle,' the gunman has some sort of brain virus that's causing him to see the one person that wronged him the most any time he looks at living being.  This guy was named Redwhistle, and was on of Manny Nasoot's cohorts.  Perhaps the man with the gun is also a victim of Sinner's Wood?

[Chinaren]

   Nice!!

Mmm, tough SP too.

Okay, I agree with Prain, wrap his leg up first, try and find water needs to be a priority some point soon as well, stream etc.

I like the idea of a skeleton, though I don't think this is a fantasy, so maybe just a regular version rather than golem.  Maybe it's a previous victim.  Could have some useful stuff on!

Redwhistle.  I like the previous idea.  The gunman is crazy, maybe drugged, and he thinks people who he sees are all an old enemy, whom he calls Redwhistle.  The drug/crazy idea may account for his lack of aiming too.

[Panda-Brain]

Okay, I agree with Prain, wrap his leg up first, try and find water needs to be a priority some point soon as well, stream etc.

You mean Angel, right?

He fixes his leg, but has no water to clean the wound with. He really needs water.
Redwhistle could be the name of his brother who abandoned/betrayed him. Hmm. If Stanley is young, the crazy-gun-guy could think that Stanley is his brother because he looks so much like CGG's brother when he left CGG. I hope that makes sense =P
As for something in the hole/cave thing, there could a snake or a bear or something man eating in it. Oh oh oh! Or another human, but they turned somewhat cannibalistic after being in the forest for so long and they try to eat him!

PS: I like it. It's gooood

[Saint]

Right, new part coming soon.  Should be up by the end of today.

  Also, I'll say this here:  Updates on my stories will be scarce over the next week or so, as I'm working on a compilation of my work to self publuish and bring in a little money, and this requires a lot of editing and two new short stories.  I also have to search feverishly fo anything I can find from the 'Ideas' topic which vanished into thin air, as I wanted to include three Prologues from there in the compilation.

[Chinaren]

Rockin' I'll read it later.  Super busy today. 

[Chinaren]