The Color's of the Forest
Akiho Fujimoto strolled through the Aokigahara forest in the cool peacefulness of dusk. Around her the leaves on the trees whispered to one another as a soft breeze rustled around their crisp, yellow features. Stopping, she breathed in deeply with the wind. Tonight would be perfect, she thought. Perfect to continue the art of the forest. She rubbed her neck thoughtfully, tracing the scars from the last time she had been in the forest. Shivering from the mixture of cold and desire, she pressed onward with renewed vigor.
After a small walk further, Ahiko scrambled through a small walkway in between two old mother willows into the opening she had discovered. The area was somewhat of an oval, rounded by bamboo shoots, willows, and other assorted plants so thick that if you tried to come in through any other angle, your body would find itself completely trapped by the thick foliage. Inside, the artist’s fortress consisted of knee high grasses, various weltering plants, and in the center of it all, an oversized plum tree, bearing its ripe fruit for all the small animals of the surrounding forest side to dine on. All of this drowned in the iridescent glow of the full moon.
As they always did, her eyes darted towards the tree, examining the slender limbs and rough exterior bark. The withering leaves and plump plums clung lightly to the branches, giving off a quite eerie feeling. Spiritual seemed like the most appropriate word to describe it, she thought. To the normal eye, something would seem wrong with the tree. The roots that clung so delicately to the soft soil in the clearing and a large part of the trunk where painted a beautiful crimson red. This was her tree, her gift to the forest and to the souls that had departed from it.
Picking her way through the surrounding plants, Ahiko walked toward the tree with a quickened pace. She reached it and placed her brush case down with care. Looking around, she located her last batch of paint. It hung down from the tree in front of her. She reached out and touched the crude, useless tube. It had gone bad long ago so she would have to go find more. Tonight would certainly be exciting, Ahiko thought. Leaving her brushes covered in a blanket of shadows, she pulled her ghostly shawl over her shoulders and walked out into the forest.
Un-like normal people, Ahiko loved to use the natural elements around her to for her paint. She thought it made her art look more natural and helped the viewer understand whatever point she was trying to get across. Lucky for her, a forest is full of instruments she could make into paints, though the red she was looking for would be a bit harder to find.
The forest was as quiet as death itself aside from the sound of Ahiko’s feet prancing deeper into the forest. But soon, an alien sound filled the air. Ahiko slowed to a stop and stood stalk still. Someone or something was panting as it closed in on her. She spotted a thicket of weak branches and hurried towards it, pulling a medium sized rock from the loose ground as she went. Sliding into the thicket she slid around so she could see what was coming. “Dominick! Jill!” the shrill voice of a young girl called out. The silhouette of a small fragile frame totered into view. It could only belong to the voice that was echoing around the forest. The child stumbled and fell to the ground in a sad heap. Ahiko smiled at her luck. With an air of confidence, she stood. The forest had provided her with her element. Now, all she had to do was collect it. She hefted the rough stone and moved forward, leaving any trace of sanity behind in the thorns of the thicket, torn away like cloth from ones shoulders. The smile that had just before perched on her lips peeled away to unveil a vicious, demonic grin. A quick swing of the grimy stone and down fell the girl.
Quickly scooping up her new batch of paint, she started hurrying back toward her fortress. The literally dead weight on her shoulders slowed her journey, but she reached her destination before the moon was at its peak. Moonlight glimmered through the crack between the willows, silently ushering her in. She hurled the body forward into the semi-darkness and tumbled in after it, scrapping her knee in the doing. She didn’t care, couldn’t care. She lurched forward, lugging the limp body along with her.
Ahiko reached the tree and threw the child against it. A slight grunt escaped it as she slumped around the trunk. Ahiko stood. She thought the child’s soul had already departed but it still clung tight to its body. With that disgusting, devious grin still plastered to her face, she bowed over. The poor innocent little girl coughed. Paint still flowed down her face from where the rock had struck her.
“Jill”, the girl whispered, “Dominick”.
“What is your name young one?” said Ahiko
“Erikan,” said the petrified child.
“Well”, said Ahiko “ thank you for sacrificing yourself to the forest tonight. You will find yourself with the gods when you awake and all will be right” Ahiko’s grin fell back to her smile. "just like me..." And with that she raised her rock and brought it down once more, terminating all life from Erikans body.
Ahiko threw her painters rope over a branch and hung her tube from it, letting the paint trickle down to the ground in a large puddle. She then ran hysterically and fetched her paintbrushes and set to work. Her brush flew through the air, painting as much as she could until the dawn of the morning light whipped her soul to the underworld where she would wait until night again to paint the tree she had hung herself from.
After a small walk further, Ahiko scrambled through a small walkway in between two old mother willows into the opening she had discovered. The area was somewhat of an oval, rounded by bamboo shoots, willows, and other assorted plants so thick that if you tried to come in through any other angle, your body would find itself completely trapped by the thick foliage. Inside, the artist’s fortress consisted of knee high grasses, various weltering plants, and in the center of it all, an oversized plum tree, bearing its ripe fruit for all the small animals of the surrounding forest side to dine on. All of this drowned in the iridescent glow of the full moon.
As they always did, her eyes darted towards the tree, examining the slender limbs and rough exterior bark. The withering leaves and plump plums clung lightly to the branches, giving off a quite eerie feeling. Spiritual seemed like the most appropriate word to describe it, she thought. To the normal eye, something would seem wrong with the tree. The roots that clung so delicately to the soft soil in the clearing and a large part of the trunk where painted a beautiful crimson red. This was her tree, her gift to the forest and to the souls that had departed from it.
Picking her way through the surrounding plants, Ahiko walked toward the tree with a quickened pace. She reached it and placed her brush case down with care. Looking around, she located her last batch of paint. It hung down from the tree in front of her. She reached out and touched the crude, useless tube. It had gone bad long ago so she would have to go find more. Tonight would certainly be exciting, Ahiko thought. Leaving her brushes covered in a blanket of shadows, she pulled her ghostly shawl over her shoulders and walked out into the forest.
Un-like normal people, Ahiko loved to use the natural elements around her to for her paint. She thought it made her art look more natural and helped the viewer understand whatever point she was trying to get across. Lucky for her, a forest is full of instruments she could make into paints, though the red she was looking for would be a bit harder to find.
The forest was as quiet as death itself aside from the sound of Ahiko’s feet prancing deeper into the forest. But soon, an alien sound filled the air. Ahiko slowed to a stop and stood stalk still. Someone or something was panting as it closed in on her. She spotted a thicket of weak branches and hurried towards it, pulling a medium sized rock from the loose ground as she went. Sliding into the thicket she slid around so she could see what was coming. “Dominick! Jill!” the shrill voice of a young girl called out. The silhouette of a small fragile frame totered into view. It could only belong to the voice that was echoing around the forest. The child stumbled and fell to the ground in a sad heap. Ahiko smiled at her luck. With an air of confidence, she stood. The forest had provided her with her element. Now, all she had to do was collect it. She hefted the rough stone and moved forward, leaving any trace of sanity behind in the thorns of the thicket, torn away like cloth from ones shoulders. The smile that had just before perched on her lips peeled away to unveil a vicious, demonic grin. A quick swing of the grimy stone and down fell the girl.
Quickly scooping up her new batch of paint, she started hurrying back toward her fortress. The literally dead weight on her shoulders slowed her journey, but she reached her destination before the moon was at its peak. Moonlight glimmered through the crack between the willows, silently ushering her in. She hurled the body forward into the semi-darkness and tumbled in after it, scrapping her knee in the doing. She didn’t care, couldn’t care. She lurched forward, lugging the limp body along with her.
Ahiko reached the tree and threw the child against it. A slight grunt escaped it as she slumped around the trunk. Ahiko stood. She thought the child’s soul had already departed but it still clung tight to its body. With that disgusting, devious grin still plastered to her face, she bowed over. The poor innocent little girl coughed. Paint still flowed down her face from where the rock had struck her.
“Jill”, the girl whispered, “Dominick”.
“What is your name young one?” said Ahiko
“Erikan,” said the petrified child.
“Well”, said Ahiko “ thank you for sacrificing yourself to the forest tonight. You will find yourself with the gods when you awake and all will be right” Ahiko’s grin fell back to her smile. "just like me..." And with that she raised her rock and brought it down once more, terminating all life from Erikans body.
Ahiko threw her painters rope over a branch and hung her tube from it, letting the paint trickle down to the ground in a large puddle. She then ran hysterically and fetched her paintbrushes and set to work. Her brush flew through the air, painting as much as she could until the dawn of the morning light whipped her soul to the underworld where she would wait until night again to paint the tree she had hung herself from.