Nature's Gallows

The crunching of dead leaves and twigs underfoot echoed in the otherwise eerily quiet autumnal woods.  After only 15 minutes of walking, the originally refreshing crisp cool air had morphed into a biting chill as the wind lashed out its tongue and stung the faces of the explorers.

“Where is this stupid tree?”

“I don’t know why you’re annoyed, Aster.  This is all your fault.”
         
“Oh, Jesus, please stop whining, Vincent.  It’s all I’ve heard during our trek through these woods.  I get it: you’re pissed that you’re here.”
         
Vincent raised the zipper of his hoody as far it would go and tucked as much of his face inside as he could to block the wind.  The unsettling nature of the staunch silence around them began to plague his mind.
         
“It’s not normal for the woods to be this quiet.  Where are the birds?  The squirrels?  Something alive besides us should be making noise.  Or maybe they just know to stay away from this area.  Animals can always sense things humans can’t.  You wouldn’t see a dog challenge his buddies about finding the Hanging Tree, or a cat shoot his mouth off about how the legend is bullshit.”
         
At that, Aster stopped and turned directly to Vincent with a look drenched in irascibility.
         
“I’m not even going to comment on how ridiculous those statements are.”  Aster pulled her hat lower in hopes that it would stop the whipping wind from ringing in her ears.  With a glance down at the yellow, orange, and brown leaves at varying stages of decay that blanketed the ground, she attempted to stop the bickering.  “Listen, I’m sorry you got pulled into this Hanging Tree expedition.  I just can’t stand it when Brandon goes on about these silly urban legends.  So, I wanted to prove him wrong and shut him up, and that’s why I said I would come out here and show that this whole ‘ghost of a murdered woman’ tale is nonsense.  And if you hadn’t piped up and tried to defend me, you wouldn’t be stuck here.”
         
“Yeah, I know, but little brothers have to defend their big sisters, even when those sisters are thick-headed.”
         
Aster smiled and turned back around to survey the surrounding area.  Just ahead, she noticed a slight clearing around a single tree.  “There, is that it?” she asked raising her arm and pointing.
         
The two college students stuffed their cold hands into their pockets and forged ahead to the clearing.  There before them stood an ancient tree with gnarled and twisted branches that conveyed a lifetime of agony and distress.  One branch, thick and sturdy, jutted out almost perfectly perpendicular to the trunk, poised for a public hanging.
         
“Holy shit, this is the tree.  It has to be.”  Aster walked up and touched the rough bark. 
         
“Aster, don’t!  You’re going to incite the wrath of a three-hundred-year-old dead witch!”
         
“She wasn’t a witch, Vincent.  She was just a poor woman who didn’t perfectly conform to the norms of her society and so the religious zealots of her village decided to hang her in the name of their all-loving God.”
         
“How do you know?  Maybe she was a Satan-worshipping witch who was poisoning villagers or something.”
         
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Vincent.  First off, real witches don’t even believe in Satan, because Satan doesn’t exist in their religion; he is a creation of the Christians.  And second, for someone who doesn’t want to incite the wrath of a dead woman, you’re certainly hurling enough accusations and insults about her.”
         
As the chilling wind began to intensify and course through the trees, a macabre  screeching sound reverberated through the clearing and momentarily panicked both students. 
         
“It’s just the wind,” Aster said in an effort to convince herself as much as her brother. 
         
“Aster, I don’t like this.  I think we should go.  I suddenly feel really nauseous, and I’m so cold I can’t feel my toes or my hands.”
         
“OK.  I mean, I came out to the Hanging Tree like I said I would.  I’m just going to tie this ribbon around the trunk to prove we were here, and then off we go.”
         
Vincent felt a blanket of relief envelop him as they left the sinister tree.  Ignoring the surrounding beauty of fall’s colors, they steadfastly walked back towards where their car was parked on the side of the road.  After about ten minutes of brisk walking, the two came upon a slight clearing and stared in disbelief at a gnarled tree with a ribbon tied around the trunk.
         
“It can't be.” 
         
While Vincent stood perfectly still with fear, Aster walked forward to touch the ribbon as if willing it to be a mirage.
         
“It can’t be,” Aster repeated.  “We walked back the way we came.  We walked in the opposite direction of this spot.”
         
The same macabre screeching sound that had made itself heard before now barreled through the woods with such intensity that Vincent covered his ears.  Aster brusquely grabbed her brother’s hand and led him away from the Hanging Tree, away from the clearing.
         
“Come on, let’s run back to the car.”
         
With fear and determination pumping into their veins with each rapid heart beat, Aster and Vincent sprinted through the darkening woods, droplets of sweat collecting on their foreheads despite the increasing cold.  It was not long before the screech pierced through the silent woods and the siblings once again came upon the Hanging Tree with its ribbon so neatly tied, but now a rope also hung from its large perpendicular branch.  Aster screamed in frustration and terror as the tempestuous wind increased its assault.  Vincent simply stood helplessly as the realization of their situation began to clarify in his mind.
         
“This is not fucking happening!  This cannot be happening!”
         
Aster now violently grabbed her brother’s hand, dragging him back through the woods towards their parked car, as a woman’s vengeful screech pursued them with each gust of wind.

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Tied for First Place in "The Writer's Cramp" Contest for 31 October 2014