"Sam, wake up; we need to go."
I jolted awake at the sound of my dad's voice, then immediately groaned and rubbed my eyes.
"What time is it?" I asked groggily.
"Four-thirty," came the reply. I could hear him stomping around my room, pulling my boots from the closet, "hurry up and get dressed."
"Why? What's going on?"
I heard him take a deep breath before he answered,
"The Leshy; it's just been spotted again near the edge of town."
A cold sense of dread seized my chest.
If you don't know what a Leshy is, well - consider yourself lucky.
The Leshy is a spirit of the forest, but if good and evil is a spectrum, their pretty far on the evil side. Not only can they change size and shape at will, but they're masters of manipulating reality - making you believe that you're seeing things that aren't there, confusing you, or imitating voices of people you know.
Maybe the Leshy weren't always angry, but the destruction of the forests hasn't helped. Now, most of them have one goal - to help deplete the human population as much as possible.
"I'm up," I said, flinging the covers off, "I'll be downstairs in two minutes."
Dad nodded and headed out the door. I could hear doors shutting as he gathered our supplies and weapons while I threw on my clothes. My hands were shaking as I zipped up my hoodie; partly from being woken up so early, partly from nerves. I've always known the danger in what my dad and I do, but some days it hits me harder than others.
Oh, well. Nothing I could do but suck it up.
I met my dad downstairs and helped him pack up the truck; then we were on our way.
It was still dark out, the sky just changing from navy to dark gray. It was a damp morning, and white fog pooled across the road as we headed to the edge of town. We drove in silence, both of us mentally preparing for the fight that lay ahead.
I had known this would be happening soon. Just last month, two hunters had gone missing seemingly out of the blue. The cops had searched the woods in vain, finding no clues. It was a mystery, for most everyone in town; my dad and I knew what had had happened.
Eventually we made it to the far side of town, and Dad brought the truck to a halt. We both got out, and my dad began to unload everything we would need.
I looked into the mist forest and shuddered. The trees grew together close here, making the woods look like some dark, tangled nightmare. Somewhere deep within the trees, an owl hooted, and another shiver ran up my spine.
"Are you going to be alright?" Dad asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. I nodded quickly.
"Yeah; absolutely."
Dad nodded tightly and handed me my weapon; a large iron blade, sharpened to a deadly point, and a small hatchet. The last item I carried wasn't a weapon but an amulet; an amber stone with a hole in the center that would glow when any sort of faery creature is near. The Leshy are members of the Fae family, meaning it's iron - not silver - that can injure them. Dad's arsenal consisted of a crossbow with iron-tipped arrows, a hatchet similar to mine, and a shotgun. He notched an arrow in preparation as we readied ourselves to enter the woods.
"Same rules as last time," Dad said, "stay close behind me and watch my back. Don't step away for any reason; and don't follow the voices, no matter what they say."
"I got it," I assured him.
"Alright, then. Let's go."
With that, we plunged into the forest.
The light had just come up enough that we could see the path before us, though dark shadows still lurked in every corner. A stayed close behind Dad like he'd told me, making sure not to lag behind as I scanned the trees for any sign of the monster. The birds were beginning to chirp, and squirrels scuttled through the branches above us. Every fallen branch that snapped underfoot made me jump just a little.
Dad stopped suddenly, spooking me. He nodded to the right, and I followed his gaze. There, cut across the trunk of a large dead tree, were three deep gashes cut into the bark. The marks were too deep and widely spaced to be any kind of animal - the Leshy had been here.
We continued making our way through the woods. I saw Dad's tensed shoulders sink lower and lower the longer we walked. Maybe it was a false alarm. Leshys tended not to stay in one place for very long, covering vast areas of forested places in a day. Although we'd already seen one sign of the Leshy, it may have moved on already.
I was beginning to think this trip may have been a waste of time - then I felt a heat on my chest.
I glanced down at my amulet; the amber stone was now glowing with a golden light, and felt as hot as though it had just been taken out of a fire. I grabbed my dad's sleeve, stopping him. He turned around to see me holding up the glowing amulet, and his face tightened. It was then that we realized how silent the forest had become - there was no more birdsong, no scuttling of squirrels.
It was then we heard the voice come from the trees.
It's hard for me to describe a leshy's voice.
Imagine the sound of dry leaves scraping together, the low growl of a wild animal, and the howling of the wind in a storm; it's like all of those together. That was the voice that I heard when the leshy spoke.
"Thomas!" it called from the depths of the woods, "Help me, Thomas! I'm over here!"
A look of anger that I rarely saw flashed across my dad's face. He snarled, cocking his arrow on his bow and scanning the trees for any sight of the creature.
"Thomas, please! I need you!" The voice shouted again, and the rage in my dad's eyes was now equally mixed with grief. Because it wasn't the leshy's voice that my dad heard coming from the trees.
It was my mother's.
*****
I've told you about how leshy's can imitate anything, right?
Well, one thing they're great at is imitating the voice of someone you love. But they're not really changing their voice; they're just changing the way you hear it. Which means that since I didn't know what my mom's voice sounded like, I only heard the voice of the leshy; but my dad heard his dead wife calling from the woods. I could only imagine what that must have felt like.
"I know you're out there, Morovik!" my dad shouted back, calling the creature by its name, "come out and face me!"
The shouting was replaced by laughter, which was almost more haunting than the call. I spun around, pressing myself back-to-back against my dad, holding my hatchet out in front of me.
There was a rustling in the trees, a rushing of wind and a swirling of dead leaves - then suddenly, out of the forest, the monster appeared.
I felt him before I saw him - an intense gust of wind that knocked me off my feet, flinging me forward onto the forest floor. I heard my dad yell, as I scrambled to stand again, and I heard an arrow whizzing through the air.
Morovik's laughter followed; obviously the arrow hadn't found its mark. I got to my feet, turning to face the monster.
The leshy stood over seven feet tall, a humanoid shape of mossy bark and twisting branches. He spun towards me as I stood, his green-moss beard swinging from his woody face as his glowing blue eyes flashed. More cruel laughter echoed from deep in his throat.
"Oh, Thomas-son; look how brave you are!" it said, mockingly, "Don't worry, I'll make quick work of you after I've reunited your parents."
Dad let another arrow fly, which the leshy dodged with surprising alacrity. It balled its fists which cracked with the sound of dozens of tiny branches snapping. Then it lunged towards my dad.
I don't know how I crossed the space between us as quickly as I did. One minute I was struggling to regain my footing, and the next I was flying towards the monster. I felt like a fire had been lit inside me, igniting in my veins and propelling me forward.
I leaped into the air, gaining enough height to grab the monster by the back of the throat. As I crashed back to the ground, he came with me.
We both hit the ground hard, but I barely felt it. My nails dug into the wood of his neck and left grooves. My mind barely had time to register that that shouldn't be possible before I slammed him into the ground. I had never felt that kind of strength before - it must have been the adrenaline.
The leshy was not so easily defeated, though. He shook himself like a dog, loosening my grip and sending me flying. I landed on my back, the wind knocked out of me. As I tried to catch my breath, I saw the monster approaching, rage burning in his eyes as he stalked on his trunk-like legs towards me. My heart hammered as I realized I was about to get the crap beaten out of me. I shut my eyes and flung my arms over my face, when an explosion of sound shook the forest.
The leshy let out a horrible scream, and I opened my eyes to see the monster standing before me, cradling what used to be its right arm. My father stood behind him, his face slightly obscured by the smoke of his shotgun. The leshy glowered at me, its eyes like two bright burning coals. It leaned close, and fear froze me in place.
"We'll meet again, son-of-Thomas," he growled, gritting his teeth as he held what was left of his arm, "and when we do, I will show you no mercy."
And then he was gone, disappearing into the trees like he had never been there.
*****
The forest was silent again, except for the ringing in my ears. A few leaves drifted down through the fog where the leshy had been, but otherwise it was as if he'd never existed.
I pushed myself upright, my whole body shaking now that the fire inside me was gone. My hands were raw from gripping bark, and when I looked down, I realized they were streaked with sap and dark blood that wasn't mine.
Dad lowered his shotgun slowly, eyes never leaving the dark wall of trees where Morovik had vanished. For a moment he just stood there, breathing hard, shoulders tight. Then he turned toward me.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice rough.
"Y-yeah." My throat was dry. I tried to sound steady, but it came out more like a whisper. "Just winded."
He stooped down beside me, his eyes sweeping over me, checking for wounds. He reached out to put a hand on my shoulder - but he hesitated. There was a tightness in his expression that I rarely saw, but I knew what it was - fear. Was it me he was afraid of?
"I'm fine," I said, getting to my feet and brushing myself off.
"Ok," he said, "we should get home then."
He turned and started towards the truck. The birds had started singing again, and I heard the eerie hooting of the owl from somewhere deep in the fog-laden trees. I hugged my arms around myself, the air of the early morning somehow chiller now.
The trek back through the woods seemed longer than the walk in. Neither of us spoke, both of us lost in our thoughts. When we finally broke out of the tree line, dawn had begun to stain the horizon a pale gray-blue, the last of the stars blinking out high in the sky.
Dad packed the weapons in silence. I helped, though my hands wouldn't stop shaking.
We climbed into the truck and the engine roared to life, breaking the silence. We drove home without a word, the tires hissing on damp pavement. I watched the fog roll by outside the window and prayed he wouldn't ask the questions I wasn't ready to answer.
When we finally pulled into the driveway, Dad killed the engine and sat there for a while, hands resting heavy on the steering wheel. His face was unreadable in the dim morning light.
"I'm gonna go take a shower," I said, unbuckling my seatbelt.
"Ok," Dad said, "and Sam-?"
I pretended not to hear whatever he was about to say as I hurried back to the house.
I went in the shower and cranked the water on hot. I lathered on a stupid amount of soap, trying to scrub off every last remnant of sticky sap. I scrubbed until my arms turned red, but still I didn't feel clean enough. I couldn't scrub away the anxiety, or the feeling of bark cracking under my fingers.
Dad stayed outside a long time.
I tried not to think too much about what he'd seen in the forest.