Tree Dweller

This was written for the seconed round of the Christmas Pasta Writing Comeption. Nevertheless, enjoy if you can and have a merry Christmas

Tree Dweller
Atop the sacred mountains resides a large tree. It bares sinuous limbs that reach for the clouds, and when the wind blows it does not bow. It stands strong and overlooks the village beyond, looming over it with an ominous shadow. Once a year, we the residents, harvest all most of our valuables and box them in colorful chests with care. The time is of winter cold and snow blankets the overworld. It is a hard time for survival and we must keep all we can. But if we don’t give to the Tree Dweller, he will slaughter us.

Ah yes, the Tree Dweller. He gave us a home using his unfathomable sorcery, but we have to pay him in return; with gifts of ores and other such things that display extreme value. But of course, as his name states, he lives within the lush interior of the tree. And once a year, during the coldest of times we the people climb the mountains with our best items for he to behold.

And that is where I was at one time. Fifth in line, clutching a chest wrapped in green attire. The cold brushed up against me and I began shivering dramatically. A few minuets later a bystander behind me peeked over my stiffened shoulder and spoke in a whisper, “What did you bring?”

I opened the chest and let him peer down at the three gold ingots. The man frowned and said, “Not sure what use it would become of the Tree Dweller, but I am sure he will take a liking to its color.”

I smiled lightly, yet my feeling was still drowned in terror and paranoia. I then reflected on what happned the year before to a young woman who presented some wooden planks to the Tree Dweller. I was there at the time. I stared in horror as two beady red eyes appeared with in the dark luxuriance of the contorted tree. All of the sudden, with not more than five seconds to pass, a black twisted limb reach out and grabbed her right leg. With one violent yank she was beneath the tree. The stack of wooden planks hovered above the imprints of her dragged body.

The sounds of horrid screaming and tearing flesh rang throughout the mountain and village. Then silence. Her brutal demise was confirmed when her head was thrown out from the tree and landed in the center of the crowd.

Thinking about this made bine rise in my stomach. I kept myself under control however, as not to make anyone feel even more nervous. The mood alone was enough to make your skin crawl. Everyone had worried looks upon their faces and many people were praying with quivering bodies.

I suddenly snapped out of my thoughts when sombody slapped me on the back. I looked forward to see that I was now in the front of the line. I gulped and reluctantly stepped forward. I could here the creatures heaving breathing.

I laid the chest on the snow and stepped back slowly to behold the Tree Dwellers reaction. As expected, a black limb reached out beneath the tree and felt the object with its sharp talons. It pulled the gift back into the tree and the sound of it opening could be heard.

This is my chance, I thought. I slowly walked away, people looked at me in confusion at my strange manners. I picked up my pace. It was over. I had gifted the Tree Dweller. He excepted my gift, I was going to live. I never felt so hap-!

Suddenly, an eerie growl came from behind me. I stopped dead in my tracks. I could here people gasp in horror. I felt a warm, burning breath pierce my neck. The Tree Dweller sharpened his talons and caressed my back. Getting deeper and deeper. Blood began trickling from my mangled skin as the pain began to set in. I didn’t bother running, I would die either way.

Perhaps the yellow paint I brushed on the iron ingots wasn’t as convincing as I thought.