It was slightly cooler than normal. Not exactly cold, but not exactly warm. A night when the chills going down your spine could be either natural or caused by the unnatural. As the beams of light pierced through the thick darkness, the serpentine road seemed to lead to nowhere, constantly turning, continuously progressing, but without really gaining ground. The night enveloped the tiny car as the forest whizzed by. Jon reached for his soda as he tried to keep the car on track. The car didn't sound right to him. Somewhere between the roar of asphalt and rubber and the blaring music, he heard something that wasn't quite right. Quietly, he shook his head and dismissed the thought. Nothing was wrong, everything was okay, he kept repeating to himself silently, almost as if he wouldn't believe it if he said it loud enough. The fight against the ever growing darkness continued, corresponding with the fight between Jon and the suspicion eating away at his mind. What could possibly be wrong? What had he forgotten to do? Jon was unsure of what he could have forgotten, but he knew that something was missing. Something that carried such weight, had so much presence that it literally had him squirming and sweating in his seat trying to appease it. Or at least the memory of it. Jon laughed to himself, and decided it was probably nothing. He hadn't been this tense since the last time he'd forgotten. Of course, then he'd been trying to forget, trying to clear the memories of his worse act from his mind. He'd tried to hide that so long, tried to hide it from others and even from himself, but finally it resurfaced so violently, that even if he had tried to keep it covered over, it would have surely forced its way into the open. Suddenly, there was movement outside the car. The trees were beginning the first of their dances to the melody of the wind. The movement became regimented as the trees yielded and swayed to the gentle persuasion of their suitor. Jon's mind wandered back to the road, and to the trip, wondering how much longer he would have to drive. As he looked at the car's clock, he was astounded to realize that over two hours had passed since he'd gotten in the car. Two hours of the same winding, twisting road, engulfed by trees and darkness alike, making his life seem like one long blur. Where was he going? Jon glanced down once more to find his soda, and when he looked back up he saw more movement. This movement wasn't regimented or gentle. This was erratic and harsh, the movement of some animate, living thing. Jon swerved to avoid hitting it, and suddenly the calmness of a few seconds ago darted away like the deer that had stood in his path. It seemed like hours before the car finally came to rest. It had plowed through countless dancers, ending their swaying, and finally had come to rest within the crowd. The headlights cut through the growing darkness as Jon began to climb out of the wreckage. He looked at his car in disgust and begin to look around him. His mind drifted back to the fact that he'd been driving for two hours on a dark road, surrounded by trees and darkness. He took one more look at his car, and reached into it, searching for his flashlight. He finally dug it out of the debris, and turning in the direction that he came, he begin to walk away from the car. The night clung to him, following closely on his heels, waiting anxiously for another victim. As Jon walked away, the lights on his car begin to fade, and finally, they exposed their last. The dark enveloped the car, claiming it as yet another sacrifice to the growing list of victims. Jon looked back, sighed, and continued walking along the road.
Cold dark forest. Man, I hate this place. . .