Gordon awoke with a gasp, his heart pounding. He lay sprawled on the forest floor, his body drenched in sweat. The whispers were gone, replaced by an eerie silence. He looked around, disoriented. The familiar forest path had vanished, replaced by a strange, alien landscape.
He tried to stand, but his legs felt weak, his body trembling. He was lost. Utterly, hopelessly lost.
And then, he heard it again. A single, chilling whisper, this time closer, more insistent.
"Whoever you are," the whisper hissed, a voice deep and chilling. "Thanks for coming, i am hungry."
Gordon's blood ran cold. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes frantically scanning the surrounding darkness. The trees seemed to sway, their branches whispering secrets in the wind. He felt a cold dread creeping into his bones.
Then, he saw it.
Coiled around the base of a big tree was a creature of immense size. It was a serpent, larger than any he had ever seen, its scales shimmering in the moonlight. Its eyes, burning with an eerie intelligence, fixed on him.
"Welcome," the serpent hissed, its voice a low, resonant rumble that seemed to shake the very ground beneath his feet. "To the Whispering Woods."
Gordon felt a wave of nausea wash over him. In his training Gordon had faced wolves, bears and alot of rabits but nothing like this. This was something… something else.
The serpent slithered closer, its coils tightening around the base of the tree. "Your smell is so nice," it hissed, its voice a chilling whisper. "Time for dinner."
The serpent lunged.
Gordon barely had time to react. The serpent's jaws, lined with rows of razor-sharp teeth, snapped shut, missing his head by a hair's breadth. He rolled aside, narrowly escaping the deadly attack.
He scrambled to his feet, fear and adrenaline coursing through his veins. He drew his hunting knife, his heart pounding like a drum. He knew he was no match for the serpent in a direct confrontation. He had to find a way to escape, to find a way to survive.
He darted between the trees, the serpent in hot pursuit. He could hear the heavy thud of its coils striking the ground, the hiss of its breath hot on his back. He weaved through the undergrowth, using his agility and senses to evade the serpent's attacks.
He ran, and ran, and ran, his lungs burning, his legs aching. He didn't know where he was going, he only knew he had to escape.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he stumbled upon a small clearing. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, his heart pounding against his ribs. He looked back, expecting to see the serpent, but it was gone.
He lay there for a long time, catching his breath, his mind reeling. He didn't want to became a snake shit, he didn't even had a girlfriend yet, he can't died here, virgin and forgotten.
As he lay there, he felt a strange calm descend upon him. The fear that had gripped him was replaced by a strange sense of exhilaration. He had survived. The snake has gone, he made it.
As he closed his eyes, the whispers of the wind echoing in his ears, and a strange sense of peace settled over him. He was alive.
Then, he heard a cackle, high-pitched and chilling.
He opened his eyes to see a figure standing before him. It was a woman, tall and gaunt, with skin like aged bark and eyes that glowed with an eerie green light. She was easily three meters tall, her limbs long and skeletal. Her hair, a tangled mass of grey, seemed to writhe and writhe like a nest of snakes.
The woman let out another cackle, her voice dripping with malice. "Lost, are you, little boy?" she rasped, her voice like dry leaves skittering across stone. "Lost in the woods, lost in the darkness."
What the fuck!
He scrambled to his feet, his hand instinctively reaching for his hunting knife. But he knew, deep down, that it would be useless against this creature.
The woman let out another chilling laugh. "You have something within you, boy," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "Something good, something precious."
The hag leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with predatory hunger. "Such vibrant life force," she hissed, her gaze lingering on Gordon's chest. "A delicious meal."
Gordon felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He knew, with a chilling certainty, that this encounter would not end well.
The hag lunged. Her claws, long and sharp, raked across his chest, tearing through his shirt and drawing blood. Gordon cried out, his eyes widening in terror. He tried to fight back, to defend himself, but it was useless. The hag was too strong, too fast.
As the hag leaned closer, her icy breath washing over him, fear run through his blood and something within him ignited. A surge of power, unlike anything he had ever experienced before, run through his veins. The air around him began to swirl, leaves and twigs whipping around him in a miniature whirlwind. He had unconsciously drawn upon the power of the wind and with it came the screams, a thousand scream that flow with the wind just like when he was blesses in the front of that ancient tree. It was disturbing but Gordon ignore it because he had to beat some old meat.
The hag, taken aback by this sudden outburst, stumbled back. She stared at Gordon in astonishment, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Gordon, fueled by a rage and power surging through him, unleashed a torrent of wind. It whipped around the hag, knocking her off balance. She shrieked, her claws raking against the air.
The hag, enraged and disoriented weaved her fingers through the air, and the surrounding trees began to writhe and twist, their branches reaching out like grasping claws. Shadows erupted from the ground, swirling around Gordon, attempting to ensnare him.
Gordon, his senses heightened, reacted swiftly. He channeled the wind, creating a protective shield around himself, deflecting the shadowy tendrils. He then unleashed a powerful gust of wind, sending the writhing trees crashing to the ground.
The hag, enraged by this unexpected turn of events, unleashed a torrent of dark energy, a wave of chilling cold that threatened to freeze him solid. Gordon, bracing himself for the onslaught, channeled the wind around him, creating a swirling vortex that deflected the icy blast.
The battle raged on, a whirlwind of wind and shadow, a clash between the hag's power and Gordon's. He fought with a ferocity he never knew he possessed, his body moving with an agility and instinct that surprised even himself.
Gordon made a grasping motion with his right hand and wind gathered quickly in his hand forming a wind spear, then he released it towards the hag's face, blasting her backward.
The hag who stood back with bloodied face began to falter. She stumbled back, her eyes filled with a mixture of rage and disbelief.
Seizing the opportunity, Gordon raised both his hands up and a very strong vortex of wind gathered above his head to form a large ball of wind then he unleashed it and struck the hag and exploded. The hag's scream echoing throughout the forest while her body blasted away like a ragdoll.
The air grew still. The whispers subsided.
Gordon stood panting, his body trembling, his eyes wide with disbelief. He had faced this abomination, and somehow he had emerged victorious, unbelievable but with the power came the instinct. When it run in his veins he know how to used it.
He looked at the fallen hag, her lifeless form lying amidst the fallen trees. A chilling silence descended upon the clearing, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hooting of an owl. Gordon felt a strange sensation wash over him – his wounds, the gashes from the hag's claws, were closing rapidly, the pain fading like a fading dream. He touched his chest, feeling the smooth, unbroken skin. He had been injured, grievously wounded, yet he was healed.
The air vibrated with a subtle hum, and the trees seemed to sway in a rhythmic dance, whispering congratulation to the wind.
He realized with a jolt that he was no longer just a man. He was something more. He had power, like hero in the story. Those fruits, he was sure that was the source of his power, turn out it wasn't just a dream. The old man, the tree, all of them was real.
Holy shit!
His new power was nice but he remembered the angry old man and his blessing which he was sure at that time that the old man had wanted to cursed him for his transgression. But now, power run in his vein and he drunk of it, how could it be? He should been cursed not blessed. What happening? What next?
A lot of question in head but no answer so he could only take a deep breath and accept the fact that his life might change forever, a huge problem for his future self. For now he needed to find his way back home. He was lost, utterly and completely lost. He had no idea where he was, or how to get back to the village.
He looked around, his eyes searching for any familiar landmarks. But the forest was a confusing labyrinth. He closed his eyes, focusing on the wind, his brand new power may had a way to guide him.
The wind answered his call, a gentle breeze carrying a faint, familiar scent - the scent of woodsmoke from his village. He followed the scent, his heart pounding with a mixture of hope and trepidation.
The journey back was long and arduous. He faced unseen dangers, encountered strange creatures, and navigated through a maze of illusions but he persevered.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he emerged from the woods, blinking in the sudden sunlight. The familiar sight of his village, nestled amongst the rolling hills, brought a wave of relief washing over him.
He had survived. He had returned home.