Dread Wood Story

 

-This story is a dark Fantasy that I have been working on and I will update it weekly 🙂

The Jolting movement of the tree, the branches acting as soldiers in battle, Throwing themselves against one another, however the sound did not resemble battle but rather the vocalization of the grace and rage of mother nature. She was warning the world of the future, which only a very few ear could hear. The intense chorus of whispers of leaves filled the quaint quiet town of Dreadwood.
Dreadwood had a heavy atmosphere, the air was almost alive, weighing down on all objects as if it were a part of their being. Everyone in Dreadwood talked in murmers, afraid of others hearing their secrets, avoiding eye contact in fear someone might hear their secret thoughts. Even the building in Dreadwood stuck out in points at all corners as if trying to keep people out. The sky was almost always Grey or Black and when their was sun it was harsh and blinding. The town hardly held any color, not in its architecture, not in the peoples clothes, not even in their eyes. The only color that stuck out in the town was the purple tone of the bark that belonged to the violet pear tree, which also produces delicous fruit each fall, however did not last long on the trees because people hoard as many as they can possibly stash. Even if they cannot eat all of them before they go bad they will let them rot in the celler before they share with another soul. Even the Maker of the world could not grasp the selfishness of the people of Dreadwood. Maybe it was pride, or fear, or maybe they just evolved that way. However their was one girl named Violet who was raised by her grandmother on the edge of town in a little cottage. Violet and her grandma were light spirited souls always smiling and playing. Since their personalities contrasted with everyone else in the town they were frowned upon, which does not say much because the people of Dreadwood were always frowning. Violets Grandma does not speak much of violets parents but Violet thought of her grandma as her real mother and even called her Ma. Her grandma came from the vast forest that separated the town from the rest of the world when Violet was a baby.. The Place they came from Violets grandma describes as vibrant and colorful and full of music. They fled the outside world because of a war that was going on between there people and people that are rumored to have emerged form the depths of the soil. Violet did not ask much questions, she as content in Dreadwood since it was all she knew and despite the people she had one good friend named Darr.
It was a fairly bright morning, only 6 and the light was harsh, burning the fair skinned people if out too long. Violet grabbed her wide shading wheat hat.
“here you go Darr, you can barrow ma’s hat.”
Darr put on the hat which had tan dried weed flowers on it,
“Haha, you look lovely,” Violet chuckled.
Darr chuckled