Darkwood: A Fan Fiction

All roads lead home. For Joseph, the road to his home was quiet, darkened by the setting sun and thick clouds that smothered the moon. He sat contentedly on his wooden porch, pipe in hand, the ember of tobacco glowing steadily. His old friend Suqy lay sleeping at his feet. She was an elderly mutt—kind and loyal. They had been together since she was a pup, and these quiet evenings were their greatest joy after long days of feeding the cows and tending the small farm Joseph had inherited from his father.

His father had passed in his sleep years ago, leaving Joseph as his sole heir. The next day, he buried him beside his mother, a woman he had never known. She had labored for almost a full day, his father once told him, before finally giving birth—only to succumb to a hemorrhage. "The saddest and happiest day of my life," his father used to say, always hugging Joseph close. He was a strong man, gentle no matter how many buttons Joseph had pushed as a boy. Their life had been peaceful until his father’s passing five years prior. Now, Joseph found he lived a good life—him, his dog, the farm, and the quiet of the woods. For now, all was at peace.

Joseph stood from his chair, stretching his arms with a loud crack from his spine. Suqy lifted her head, her cloudy eyes watching him.

“Yep, time for bed, girl,” he said, rolling his shoulders. “Gotta get up early, as always. Come on.”

As he turned toward the house, Suqy let out a low growl. Joseph froze, glancing back. She was staring into the blackness of the forest, ears rigid.

He stepped closer, patting her back to reassure her. She didn’t flinch. Her growl deepened.

“What is it, girl?” He squinted into the dark, straining to see. No glimmering eyes of a coyote or bear. No snapping twigs. No howling wolves. For a moment, he wondered if age had finally taken its toll on Suqy—if she was seeing things that weren’t there.

“It ain’t nothing,” he muttered. “Let’s go ins—Jesus Christ!”

A brilliant white streak tore across the sky, illuminating the farm as if it were midday. The impact struck behind him, shaking the earth. Joseph’s legs buckled. Suqy yelped and bolted into the trees. Windows shattered into a thousand pieces. The tremor was gone as quickly as it had come, but the silence it left behind felt heavier than the quake itself.

Joseph pushed himself up, grabbing his shotgun—the one he kept only for emergencies and restocking the meat freezer. Heart pounding, he crept around the house toward whatever had just fallen from the sky.

Thick plumes of vapor curled over the newly upturned soil. He didn’t want to move forward, but he had no choice. Between the rising mist stood a meteor—small, black, glittering. It was beautiful despite the destruction. Something about it pulled at him, a strange allure he couldn’t place.

Dark liquid, thick and viscous, clung to its surface. The air around it soured, turning putrid, the stench burning into his sinuses. A voice, soft and insidious, slithered into his mind.

"Come to me."

It was not a request.

Joseph stiffened. His foot twitched forward.

"Please, Lord, hear me now. I will not take a step."

His right foot immediately felt crushed beneath an unbearable weight, yanked forward by an unseen force.

“No,” he whispered, resisting. He wanted to run—to find Suqy, who was barking somewhere in the distance.

"COME TO ME."

The voice erupted through his skull, reverberating in his bones. His body obeyed. He stumbled forward, step by step, until his palm pressed against the meteor’s surface.

It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t even hard. It was warm. Soft. Alive.

Heat seeped into his fingers, creeping up his arm, curling around his chest, flooding his body. It was… soothing. Heavy. His aches melted away, his joints renewed. The years of toil vanished from his hands and feet.

He smiled. His eyelids drooped.

He did not feel himself crumple to the ground.

He did not feel the vapor curling over his face, sliding into his lungs.

He slept.

He dreamed.

And he never woke up.