The Canopy
A Supernatural Story
Cursed is the mind that wanders where the rational tether is thinnest, for in that void of reason, the seeds of doom and dread take root. I am a solitary, contemplative man since I spend little time in the company of others. Though, I consider myself a walker of paths both trodden and hidden - an avid outdoorsman.
Thus begins my recollection of the events that unfolded during the twilight of autumn in 1890. This was an era of both scientific marvels and the lingering shadows of superstition. It was then that I would come to learn that the natural world is as volatile as the world of humans.
My narrative unravels upon the edges of a forest bathed in shadow and mystery. It was an early morning when the pale, reluctant light of dawn pierced the mist, that I joined the trail and embarked on my customary journey into the ancient woods on the northern side of my grand estate. One would typically see the sunlight glinting off the leaves of the canopy, and the shimmer when the gentlest of breezes blows by.
The trail, which has a clearly defined edge, enters the forest and winds between the trees and bushes. The path was as familiar as a dear friend's face. Yet on this day, an eerie unease settled upon me, both tangibly and beyond, as if the very air were altered. The leaves, once a soothing orchestra of nature's melodies, now whispered in creeping cadence, as if conspiring in an eldritch tongue. A chilling gust of wind washed through the wise and weathered foliage, and for the first time, I considered turning back. The once familiar forest seemed a strange and foreign land.
A chill crept down my spine, and an inexplicable paranoia tightened its grip around my thoughts. It was as though the very canopy above me had a life of its own — its boughs reaching down with spectral fingers to pluck at my sanity. With every step, the forest seemed to encroach, its presence all-consuming, suffocating. The path, my stalwart guide for countless days, now felt like a treacherous trap.
Usually confident and measured, each step became hesitant, my senses attuned to every shadow and movement. The forest, at one time my sanctuary, had transformed into a realm of unfamiliar disquiet. My rationality wavered, a fragile flame threatened by a gust of dread.
The canopy seemed to dip down through the mist to the path ahead of me, cutting off the familiar route. The world around me blurred, a cluster of branches and foliage that threatened to unravel the fabric of my understanding. Reality blurred as though a veil had covered me, and I stumbled into a realm where trees whispered secrets and shadows moved in an unholy dance. I strayed from the well-worn path, ensnared by the delusion that the path itself sought to ensnare me.
Leaves, brittle and ochre, spiralled around me in a dance choreographed by an unseen conductor. Panic constricted my chest, each breath a laboured struggle against the weight of nature’s terror. Then, as if summoned by my own unravelling psyche, tree branch hands materialised from the mist, gripping my shoulders with a vice-like force, hauling me upwards into the very heart of the canopy.
Reality warped further, and I found myself trapped within a nightmare realm. The world around me contorted into a grotesque painting of twisted branches and malevolent forms. Crooked shapes loomed amidst the gnarled branches, their eyes alight with a hunger that froze my very soul and pierced through my fragile façade of courage. It was a window into realms beyond human comprehension. I tried to scream, but the sound dissolved into the forest, swallowed by the abyss.
In that liminal space, time lost its meaning, and the boundary between my right mind and stark madness disappeared. The insidious forms crawled along the branches as though the bark itself detached and moved freely. Many were entirely camouflaged until they began their unnatural motion.
And then, like a thread woven back into the tapestry of existence, I blinked back to reality. Small specks of sunlight spread across the canopy that I was looking up at. Thin rays poked through the leafy shield. When awareness returned, it was a fellow wayfarer, a stranger to my existence, who discovered me sprawled upon the forest floor and roused me from the abyss. Genuine concern etched lines upon his weathered face as he offered a steady hand, to pull me from the clutches of the forest floor.
The forest, basking in the gentle embrace of the afternoon, seemed innocuous once more. The morning sun cast a warm embrace, and the leaves whispered their secrets with an innocence, in a language bereft of malice.
I took his outstretched hand so the stranger could help me to my feet. With gratitude, I accepted the stranger's aid, and reality solidified its hold on me. I was safe and secure in the forest I knew so well.
‘Are you hurt?’ the stranger asked. It was only now that I took in his appearance in any detail. He was in his middle years with a salt-and-pepper beard. His flat cap shaded his face from the little light that breached the canopy but his eyes were soft and friendly.
‘Not sure what happened but I think I’ll live,’ I replied while I brushed the leaf matter from my person. ’Thank you for your concern.’ I looked up. The canopy was no longer a sinister entity but exuded an air of tranquil beauty.
‘Here.’ He pulled his water skin from his shoulder and held it out.
’Thank you,’ I said and took a long pull. I thought for a moment, weighing up whether to extend an invitation to my home to the strange saviour, or not in case his presence served as a reminder of this day. At length, I determined he’d done enough to earn it. ‘It would appear I am in your debt. It would be wrong of me not to host you and your family.’
‘I’ve passed through here many times. You are from the manor, correct?’
‘That is correct.’
‘It is not often that a man of my station gets to step foot in such a place.’
I looked at him for a moment. ‘Let me elevate you to a higher station.’
We shook hands and thank goodness I chose to finally have the company of others, of friends. We have been good friends ever since that meeting. He works closely with me on several business ventures and we trust one another absolutely in that domain. He has never asked me what really happened that day in the forest and I sometimes wonder if he knows more than he has let on. I wonder if he too has experienced the true nature of the canopy.
The events on that day under the canopy made the fragility of the human psyche all too clear to me. I now understand that the realms of the mysterious are never far from our grasp.
The end.
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Excellent story. It oozed Lovecraft vibes.
I love the ending! So uplifting. 😊