I was going to have a “Fantasy Friday” yesterday and post some fiction writing, but it’s been such a crazy week I never found any spare time to write anything.
So here is a story I wrote a couple of years ago for someone wanting to get an online collection of stories.
Nothing ever came of it, but I did enjoy writing it, so I thought I would post it.
I think I’ll try and finish writing the other ones I had planned and post them over the coming weeks.

Oh and I’ll just stick this in here:

I am 80% Evil Genius

I am pure evil. I lie awake at night devising schemes of world domination, and I will not rest until all living souls bend to my will.

Take the Evil Genius Test at fuali.com

Snarfed, snaffled and yoinked from blulady and deadcase

Jungle Fever

It was much darker here in the swamps than it had been in the forest but that for which they searched was still ahead of them.

They pressed on slowly. The mists surrounded them making it harder to see in the gloom.

There were six of them, four men and two women; marines called in to hunt the hunter. It had all began a week ago in a small village on the outskirts of the known territories. People had begun to disappear without a trace. Fear began to set in so the elders called for assistance from High Command. It came in the form of these six Marines, but they came too late. By the time they arrived two days ago there wasn’t a soul left to be found. No life of any kind, and yet strangely there were no bodies either.

They had searched the village and the surrounding forest, but there were no signs of what had happened to the villagers. Then they found it. Signs of a fight and blood splattered across the surrounding rock surface.

Carl and Reese followed the trail as it led deeper into the forest west, towards the swamps; Drake and Varla scouted the higher reaches on the East Side of the village. Meanwhile Randel and the team Captain, Vetch tried to reactivate the comlink to the mothership so they could use the ships’ computers to trace any movement. They were not having much luck.

By nightfall they had all returned to the village, Drake and Varla had found nothing in the Reaches to indicate anything had passed through there, Randel and Vetch had been unable to establish a communication signal to the mothership, so the only good news they had was Reese and Carl’s report of the trail leading into the swamp. They sat around a small fire and ate cold rations in silence, waiting for the horrors they were each sure the morning would bring.
They started early the next morning, breaking camp as soon as the sun had risen, they had a long way to go today and a lot to do. They went through the forest without incident until they reached the edge of the swamp. Here and there they found small drops of blood on the reeds that grew there, and signs that something big had passed by not long ago.

Vetch signalled them to be on their guard, it was time.
They kept together as they entered the swamp, the trees overhead crowding together, cutting off the light that had, up until then trickled through the leaves overhead lighting everything with a green glow. But no longer, even this dimmed in the swamp, trees pushed in on each other fighting for space. The perfect place for an ambush.
None of them could be certain when they first felt it, but as they progressed deeper into the swamp, they were all certain, they were being watched. It was hostile; they could feel it burning into them, a nameless horror in a darkened world.

They checked their laser guns, checking the trigger was loose enough, they were fully charged, and that their personal energy shields were working correctly. They were. They always did. But that did nothing to help the nervousness they could all feel.

Yet they were trained soldiers, they faced this type of thing everyday. But the difference this time was they felt fear. Undiluted. Unexplainable. Fear. They pressed closer together in response, knowing something out there wanted to destroy them, yet having no idea what it was. They moved on, deeper into the swamp. This was what they were trained to do, fear was unnecessary, it was irrelevant, it was beneath them.

But it was still there; they could still feel it gnawing deep within them. Run, run escape, they could feel it, but they must ignore it. They had to find the answer; they couldn’t afford to stop now because there was no one else to find the answers.

What had happened to the villagers, where had they gone? What had done this?

Then they found the first body, beyond the next bend they saw it. A body standing in the swamp, a man, he was impaled on a tree limb that speared into the middle of the trail. When they got closer they could see the branch; it was sharpened into a point at the end, and angled across the trail where you could walk into it, if you didn’t see it. Or run onto it as this man obviously had, pursued by some nameless terror, escape was all that he had in his mind. He had run, straight onto the branch, which would have killed him instantly.

There was still terror in his unseeing eyes, what ever it was, he was more afraid of it than he was of dying. What could do that to someone, he must have been scared to death to try and run through the swamp like that?

They kept going, still no signs of what had chased him there, or why he had just been left suspended on the branch. The trees changed here. They became packed closer together, crushing all who tried to pass. The trees themselves also changed, these had spikes all over them, long sharp strong spikes, they grew out of every branch, surrounding each delicate red flower, hiding it, protecting it, nothing could reach those flowers without dealing with those spikes. And the dried blood told the truth of that, as did the remains of small creatures impaled on some of the lower branches.
Then they found the next villager, as the walked around a clump of trees they found their way barred. A huge tree grew up in the middle of the trail, which split and went around it on both sides. The tree was covered with the red flowers, and of course the spikes. Here lay the next victim, he hadn’t seen the tree, he was still twisted around trying to see what was following him. He never saw the tree he crashed into, even as he died, he still didn’t see it, the branches were so low, he was held fast, he couldn’t even turn back around.

The six shuddered as one. The fear growing inside each of them, without explanation. Then it began, noises all around them, things screaming, crying and howling. The swamp was coming alive, and none of them wanted to see anything that lived there. They ran.

They ran deeper into the swamp, and the sounds followed them, they couldn’t get away from them no matter how hard they ran. Their armour protected them from the trees they passed, but it didn’t protect them completely. By the time they slowed down they were bruised and scratched across both their hands and faces.

But the sounds had died down by now. Then they saw him. Ahead of them, a young boy, he was about 13 at the most, though under the dirt and grime he was probably younger. He stood in a small clearing up ahead of them without a care in the world; didn’t he know what was out there?

Then he saw them. His small face twisted into a look of pure hatred. They felt it; there was no mistake. Fear, burning into them ripping at their insides. It came from the boy, none of them could explain it, they just knew. He was an Empath. It explained everything. The unexplained fear, why all the villagers had been running, and why there were no signs of any fighting. He had done it all; he had terrified them all into running into the swamp, running from the fear they felt. There was no way of knowing why he did it; they were never likely to find out. They could hardly think now, the fear pounding inside their heads, there was no escape and nothing they could do. They were his now just like the rest of them. Then they ran, not caring where, as long as they could get away from the terror, the fear. The further they ran from the clearing the less they felt. They were numb of mind and body. Hardly surprising when they had been so close to an Empath who was pouring out everything he had at them. Still they ran. Hardened Marines, terrified beyond their ability to endure. Then it happened, they ran out of swamp. They came to the cliffs, and kept going, not seeing and not caring. They went the way all had gone who had faced him. Far above he walked out of the forest, and looked at their bodies strewn far below, at the base of the cliff. He smiled. Like the rest of them, when it came down to it fear was a powerful weapon. They were scared to death.

Written March 1998 Posted online 6th September 1998
Copyright � 1998
All Rights Reserved