So, without further ado, I present a work of fiction for your consideration:
Men grow old and die. Gods live forever, but time wears even upon those elder beasts who have outlasted countless generations, those titans that men have called the Ageless and worshiped as deities. Yet the years gnaw at their bodies as well, and so too do they grind at their godly minds. Deep within the woods of Atryalis, the God of the Great Green has gone mad. Humanity turns their back on the denizens of the wooded lands, and borders off the knotted overgrowth of tree and weed. They turn to other Gods, and forget about the power that lurks within the earth of the forsaken lands. "Don't go into the woods." They tell their children, and call their problem solved, but the God of Root, the King of Branch and Bark, does not forget the face of man.
She dragged herself across the ground, towards the gate that bordered the Great Green and her village. Her fingers clawed deep into the earth with every painful foot of ground she traversed, and the muscles in her arms strained beyond the limits to which they'd ever been used. Whispering voices chattered in an unknown language from the moon-lit wood at her back, her attackers giggling and conversing as she fought to remain conscious over the pain and loss of blood. She was only a few feet from freedom, and if anything had remained of her legs she could have crossed the distance in a couple of easy steps. The denizens of the woods had seen to it that she would not ever move with the grace and agility of her youth again. A sob almost escaped her lips, but she bit it back, and crawled forward a few more inches.
The young woman did not know why her tormentors did not simply descend upon her and finish what they'd begun, but she would not give in as long as she could still move. With every flexing of muscle, blood gushed from the thousands of tiny tooth marks covering her naked body. She felt no shame in her exposure, as there was no shame left for her after what had befallen her within the depths of the old wood. She wanted only her freedom, or her death, which was, in its own way, just another brand of freedom. She pulled herself further, remembering the song that had called her into the woods, the beautiful melody that had enchanted her from her bed and out into the night.
How could any song so beautiful, she'd thought, be created by something of the dark. She'd been warned of the woods, just as all children were warned, but in her mind she had built a different image of the Great Green. To her it had been a place of unknown wonder. In her mind lay an image of a magnificent ball, taking place in a magical clearing in the forest, surrounded by swaying trees whose rhythmic rustling made the night seem a place alive with festivity. The music she'd heard, whispered on the midnight breeze, had only reaffirmed the image in her mind. She'd snuck out of the house in naught but her night shift. The climb over the gate hadn't been easy, but she was agile then, and eager to see the mysteries of the wood for herself. When she remembered her eagerness, a bitter, almost overwhelming, sense of humiliation and regret swept through her. Had she only done as her mother and father had told her, she would be laying in bed, dreaming of the summer dance only a few weeks away, and of Gimm Felds, the brown haired boy she'd fancied sharing a dance with. Who would want to dance with her now? Even if the healers could repair her legs, and that was unlikely, who would want the girl who'd been taken by the elves? She would be shunned, a stranger in her own homestead. That thought almost made her give in, but her left arm clawed forward, grabbing a fist full of dirt and dragging her another few inches through the dirt and weeds. She was close to the gate. She could smell the coating on the wood frame that sealed it from the effects of the weather. Would the morning watch be in place yet? The sky was still dark overhead, but a light bleaching of sun was at the horizon ahead of her. Hope?
A footfall at her back froze her in place, her arm muscle quivering as she stopped all forward movement immediately. A voice spoke, the language a rolling deluge of twisting syllables, higher pitched then most men's voices, with a musical subtlety to it that reminded her only too much of the song that had drawn her from her home in the night. She did cry then, the held in sobs breaking free from her. There was motion, and she tried to twist to see, but before she could right herself a strong arm pushed her head down, pinning it to the ground.
A figure crouched down beside her, lowering its head until it was almost level with hers. A set of deep green eyes stared into hers, peeking out from a face that was partially concealed by a cascade of hair so red that it seemed to glow in the faint light of the early morning. The figure was male, skinny to the point that its bones seemed about ready to punch though the skin, and elven in feature. The male elf smiled as its eyes met those of its captive. The expression revealed teeth that were long, slender and pointed, like a dark gash full of ghastly sewing needles. The elven creature's mouth was still covered in blood, the blood of the girl it had tormented all night long. With seeming little effort the slight bodied elf tossed the girl over onto her back.
The impact knocked the air from her lungs, and she gasped to regain her breath. Her breathing was further complicated when the elf placed its foot upon her chest and stepped down, pinning her to the ground once more. It was still smiling, and in that moment the young woman knew that her time had come. The creature of the woods was going to kill her. It had used her, tormented her, and stalked her through the trees the entire night, just so that it might finish her as her goal seemed so near at hand. The creature held out one of it's skeletal hands in front of it, cupping it as though it were grasping something small and round, its pale white skin contrasted with its black nails. An acidic smell filled the air, and an instant later green light flared up in the elf's hand, flickering and churning. It's grin, already impossibly wide and terrible, grew wider.
The young girl looked into the elf's eyes for what she knew would be the last time. It had such beautiful green eyes, and yet there was no warmth, and no compassion behind the beauty. The last of her hope fled at the flicker of the green flame. She welcomed the death that would take her.
