It stood the test of time and survived the cruelty of mankind as they advanced in the hierarchy of life. Now it lay undisturbed, protected by fences and wooden barricades taken within its midst. Wild, overgrown vines crawled and claimed the tree trunks within, hugging them in an octopus-like grip, shedding barks as they intrude and possessed their existence. Branches hang low near the earth, looming like claws and jaws waiting for the right prey to come their way. The ground—dark, dingy, moldy, and carpeted in verdant. Humongous roots protruded from the earth. Like an invisible and silent trap, they lay await, still, and grabbing unsuspected feet without effort.

On that lonely night, its white blanket came once more, descending from the atmosphere in haste, encompassing every inch, shrouding every crevice and even those that hid in its darkest abyss. The leaves in its hundred-year-old oaks shivered as the wind bellowed towards them, mangling the fog that wrapped the tree in a tight embrace.

Then came the silence. Despite the whistle of the wind, there was stillness within its midst. A quiet that felt deafening to all those who stupidly found their way into its belly. Perhaps the silence was caused by the lack of life. For it is only life that could break silence. The ragged breaths and the beating of a heart, the scurrying and shuffle of padded feet, or perhaps, the gurgling of voices—only those... only those could perhaps break the silence.

But it knew the breaking would never come to pass. Because you see, nothing truly lived or survived inside it. Because whatever breathed within; breathed, not air.

***

Paranormal enthusiast Ingrid Brady just got out of work and as always, she parked her car ten meters away from the entrance of the Suffolk woodland—a thing she does whenever she passed by it—then stepped out and just stared at the intriguing and thought-provoking magnificence before her.

Suffolk Woods was known to many and popular with paranormal enthusiasts such as her. However, the eerie forest is protected by the government so no paranormal investigators ever had an opportunity to peruse its virgin belly.

The forest is home to many mysterious happenings. In the past ninety years, the forest's entrance had produced at least 2,875 dead bodies. Some would say it was chosen as a dumping ground for murdered people, but paranormal researchers believe that those people had ventured inside the forest and were killed by the forest itself or by what it sheltered within, then thrown out to serve as a warning to others. Their mangled remains and unexplainable cause of death were what sparked that theory. Not to mention, the forest was too silent. No bird had ever been seen flying above its verdant canopy. No animal had ever been spotted lurking in and out of it.

But there were also stories from the natives of the land. According to them, the forest is home to a creature no man had ever set eyes on. An intelligent existence that was born from the blood of the thousands of native warriors who died during a battle known as the Woodland massacre of Suffolk. The story goes, the forest was where warriors trained to protect their land from the colonizers. But one day, they were ambushed and gunned to death.

From their blood rose their will. That is what the creature is. The will of those warriors. It lurks in the forest with only one thing in mind—protect the land from invaders. Out of all the theories about the forest, that story was what Ingrid believed. The natives, before the colonizing of their land, had a deep understanding of nature. They acknowledged that nature had a mind of its own. Perhaps, the forest harnessed their will as they slowly succumbed to death, turning it into an immortal protector.

The usual sight of uniformed officers roaming the ground was nowhere at that moment, so Ingrid took a chance and stepped closer. The law dictated that one can look and approach the forest but one must keep a five-meter distance from it. So when she was certain that she had achieved the allowable distance, she stopped in her tracks and once more stared at the oddity that was Suffolk Woods.

A few minutes later, she had her fill. She turned to her heels and was about to return to her vehicle when from behind her, she heard someone cry for help. Whirling to look back, she caught sight of a man in a police uniform being dragged toward the forest. She knew she shouldn't, but her feet took a life of their own and she ran—she ran forward; towards the entrance.

What first greeted her upon entry was a cold snipping fog. Odd, it was barely nightfall yet the forest was already at the mercy of a thick mist. "Hello," she yelled, eyes scanning her surroundings, turning wide as saucers hoping to see beyond the fog. "Officer," she added as she took a step forward.

When no one replied, she pulled out her cell phone from her pocket and used it to light her path. It was perhaps crazy to have known the history of the forest yet continue to enter its belly, but Ingrid couldn't just leave. Besides, something in her had always wanted to venture into its midst. Now that an opportunity had presented itself she couldn't turn the other cheek.

Glancing back for a second, taking in the image of the entrance, memorizing every root and branch around it to ascertain she'd find it again upon her return, Ingrid took a step forward. As she went deeper, yelling, officer, time and again, she suddenly felt hazy. She couldn't tell what it was, but she felt like something keen to a boulder had nestled itself upon her chest. She took a long drag of breath but still, she couldn't get enough air in her lungs.

"You shouldn't have come."

Ingrid steeled. The voice sounded deep and there was an undertone to it that instantly had the hairs on the back of her head rising. Whoever spoke the words was behind her and though she wanted nothing more but to turn and look, she couldn't. Her body was frozen in place.

"I rarely have visitors."

The voice sounded nearer. Feet, move! Ingrid commanded mentally.

"The one before you wasn't as amusing as I thought he'd be. But perhaps, you'd be different."

After those words were spoken the next thing Ingrid knew was something had curled around her ankles, knocked her out of balance and she was dragged across the ground. She screamed as her body collided with protruding roots and had twigs grazing her skin. Soon, the scent of blood wafted by her nose. It was her blood, she was certain.

When whoever it was that took her, gave the other end of her bind a strong tug, her head hit a tree bark, and she lost consciousness.

When Ingrid came to, she felt like the air was almost knocked out her lungs when in front of her was a man, but he hadn't all the features of an actual human being, no, there was something else encompassing his countenance. In place of the hand were long stick-like appendages covered in tree barks. Where the fingers were supposed to dangle was a mass of green molds with tiny twigs sticking out from them, and from where the fingers were supposed to be were claws, more like sharpened twigs. His lower half was a tree trunk with roots below that served as his feet. Then there was his face. He looked like a normal human being. He had a pair of ears, a nose, and supple-looking skin, except for his eyes which is lone and had a shade of green. Instantly, an ear-splitting cry erupted from Ingrid's mouth. She scooted away from the creature but had to grimace when her left leg grazed itself on a sharp stone, tearing her skin, and allowing blood to ooze out from it.

The creature laughed and then murmured, "Let us begin—again,"

Scurrying to her feet, she ignored the pain that came from her injury and ran like crazy. She heard the being come after her. His laughter echoed from every direction turning Ingrid's strides faster. The path before her was covered in a thick fog, obscuring her sight of whatever lay before her. But Ingrid felt determined to keep a distance from the creature.

Every footfall she made felt like Christmas morning, a gift, an action that confirmed she had a chance to escape. Soon, the fog ascended and her path cleared. Rivulets of tears dripped from her eyes when she saw the familiar oak that bent 60 degrees to one side and the arch of the forest's entrance that lay before it.

Her heart swelled in triumph as she covered the distance between her and the arch. And just when she passed by the oak, she felt something warped around her waist. It curled around her torso in a phyton-grip and not long after, she felt the being behind her, breath ghosting on her nape. Ingrid screamed and struggled against her captor but steeled once more when it spoke. "Do you wish to be freed?"

Unable to speak, Ingrid swallowed. Her chest tightened like a thousand hooves were trotting on it.

"Alright, if you happen to convince any passerby to acknowledge you. Then you're free to go."

His words sounded familiar and Ingrid felt like she heard them before but couldn't figure out when.

"I shall leave you to your devices then."

After he said those, he vanished.

Ingrid stood frozen, confused, and near collapsing when from the gate she saw a man. Smiling to herself, she called out to him. But the man didn't seem to have heard her. He was looking straight at her but his gaze seemed to move past her.

Frowning, Ingrid called out again, she screamed "help me," over and over, but still, the man across the entrance didn't acknowledge her. Frustrated, Ingrid took a step forward, but when she reached the entrance, she froze. Her legs seemed to have been glued to the ground, preventing her stride.

Instantly, her heart thumped uncontrollably. Amidst tears, she called out to the man again, but still, there was no answer. So she tried again, and again and again, but it was futile.

"Why can't you hear me," she whispered.

"Because they can't."

After she heard those words, memories, ones that she couldn't tell had happened or not flooded her head. She remembers herself being thrown viciously against boulders and dying. Then she recalled being shoved down a murky-looking lake and drowning. All of them happened inside the forest.

Confused, she looked behind her. There, the being stood menacingly with a bunch of other people.

"What... What the hell is happening," Ingrid asked.

A man in a police uniform approached her and then whispered, "You've been here for quite some time. You were killed by the being, but every twenty-four hours, we re-live our last moments on earth.different ways, but somehow the same. It ends with no hope. Sometimes we are visible to others, like when you saw me when I was sucked in.

"B-but," she murmured.

The being within the crowd screamed, "Intruders aren't welcome. What you came here with, I have thrown out. What I cannot throw, remains."

"You're dead, accept it. You have been since twenty years ago," the police added.

A chorus of voices soon followed, yelling incomprehensible words, and disbursing in different directions.

"Now, let's begin—again."

Ingrid smiled, she parked her car ten meters away from the entrance of the Suffolk woodland—a thing she does whenever she passed by it—then stepped out and just stared at the intriguing and thought-provoking magnificence before her.