The Bleeding Forest

Before reading the story: 

1. There will be possible gore. There will certainly be blood, so if that makes you uncomfortable, click away and check out another story.

2. I try to check my spelling and typos, but I always over look something. If you find anything, feel free to edit it. (You don't need to ask me for permission when it comes to grammar/spelling/typos).

3. I will TRY to update this daily- I just got out of school, so I have a whole week free. Let's see how forcing myself to write will go :D

4. Thoughts/criticism will be very appreciated. I'm still crap at writing and need some advice ;-;

Hope you enjoy~

The trees towered over the animal, casting shadows upon its teary-eyed face. The sun was setting, seeming to have given up for today. The quiet hum of leaves echoed throughout the forest, bringing a cold breeze along with it.

A chill went down the creature’s spine, as it let out a shaky sigh.

It wasn’t sure what was real, and what was not.

What was a sound in their head, what was someone’s voice.

They had no idea, truly.

And everyone blamed them for not knowing- they blamed the animal for its broken thoughts, blamed it for the mess in its head.

The animal did not understand what was happening, didn’t understand why everyone deemed them unacceptable. Didn’t understand why everything seemed to whisper to him. Whisper hurtful words, whisper nasty words.

A chocked sob escaped its lips, as the creature leaned againced one of the trees. Its paws were covered in mud, long, sharp claw sticking out from under it.

“Dirty, dirty, ugly claws.” It whispered, voice raspy. The creature- that in some sense resembled a fox- started staring at its paws. They stared at the sharp edges of the ugly, oh so ugly claws.

The claws were disgusting. Too long. Too sharp. They weren’t made for catching mice, weren’t made for catching birds.

The fox dropped down to the foot of the tree, holding their paws close to their chest. The cold forest floor seamed to welcome the fox, as it laid there, hugging itself. Their eyes were held tightly shut, as tears continued to spill out from underneath.

The ache in their stomach was getting unbearable.

The hunger- oh, the hunger. It was getting worse by the second.

Their stomach felt hallow, as if there was nothing inside. Its insides were riddled with holes, broken. Nothing seemed to work.

Berries, carrots, fries, hell, they even tried eating a full pot of tomato soup. It all smelled horrible, no matter how much spices the fox tried to dump onto it. The smell itself was painful to even breath in.

But all of it. Every, disgusting bite of it tasted horrid.

It all tasted of vomit, as if someone had already eaten all the flavour from it. The taste was indescribable, truly disgusting. Everything tasted broken. It all tasted ruined, tasted unbearably wrong.

The fox’s throat was dry and scratchy, making the experience for the fox even more painful.

What was happening, the fox did not know.

All that it knew, was that everything was wrong. Disgusting. Horrid. Dirty. Muddy. Ruined. Painful.

The fox started digging claws into their own shoulder, trying to create a distraction from their own thoughts.

But it didn’t work.

Its stomach growled, making the ache even worse.

The fox laid there for a long while, eyes closed and paws hugging their body. Its tail wasn’t even capable of moving, just lying there at the fox’s feet. Useless.

But suddenly, instead of the truly, disgustingly cold breeze, something else filled the air. The smell of hot chocolate, the smell of vanilla. The smell of his childhood winter nights.

The animal’s mouth started to water, as it lifted its nose up high.

A smell. A good smell. A smell that didn’t want them to vomit, a smell that wasn’t painful to breath in. A smell seemingly from heaven.

The fox lifted its head up as it heard the patter of boots againced the ground. There was also another sound, but he couldn’t identify it.

Slowly, very slowly, the fox got up to his feet. He was shaking as he stood, his knees hardly supporting him. But he managed to do it, quietly. He was still leaning againced the tree, trying to keep himself from falling down in his current state.

The patter of feet became louder, as did the second sound. The second one seemed to make his ears ring, making it painful to listen to.

But the smell definitely made up for the sound. It smelled so delicious, so appetizing…

He stood under the tree for a good few seconds, paws shaking, tail dropped to the ground. He couldn’t even muster up the strength to lift his ears up higher, to concentrate on the noises. But, his nose was held high, as if manipulated by the sweet smell.

After a few moments, another animal jumped out from the bushes. A young-looking cheetah.

When it noticed the fox, it’s eyes grew wide with worry. It stood for a few moments, confused. For what was a kitten to do, when it saw a stick-thin fox in the middle of the forest?

The fox’s gaze was pinned to the cat, staring at it.

The sound of footsteps stopped along with the cheetah, but the second, unbearable sound continued on. The fox felt as if it was clogging up his head.

But oh, the smell. Vanilla, chocolate, spices, cookies. It was all so mesmerizing.

“Sir, are you fine? Do you need me to get someone to help you?” the cub called out.

But the fox, oh the fox didn’t hear it. The sound, the loud sound from before continued to echo in a specific rhythm. It blocked out the cheetah’s words, making it the only present noise in the fox’s head.

“Help… me…” the fox attempted to growl out, his voice raspy and pained from his swollen throat. He eyed the cheetah, as it just backed away. It was visibly worried for the fox’s wellbeing, about to call an older animal for help.

The stupid, stupid noise. The sweet, sweet smell. It was all coming from the cheetah.

“Help me… stand. Help me walk back to safety…” the fox muttered, desperate not to lose the wonderful smell. He couldn’t get rid of the cheetah, not yet.

The cheetah walked up to his side, as the fox slowly leaned on the kitten, his legs about to collapse from under him. But the sweet, sweet scent of vanilla, chocolate, pumpkin pie… The fox could not fall, could not drop to the ground as long as the smell was surrounding him.

But the simple, rhythmic beating coming from the cheetah, was unbearable. The fox didn’t understand, how the cub could have such a powerful smell, yet such a painful sound coming from inside of him.

“Sir, are you sure I shouldn’t call someone? I’m not sure if I’ll be able to support you all the way” said the cheetah, attempting to push the fox forward a bit. But the both of them only stumbled.

But the fox didn’t hear the cub’s words. He couldn't, his senses clouded over by the smell, his ears clogged up with the painful beating.

The painful, stupid beating of the cheetah’s heart.

Hypnotized by the cub’s sent, the fox leaned into it, before digging its fangs deep into the cheetah’s throat. The animal didn’t even have the time to call out, before dropping to the ground, unmoving.

The painful noise left the fox’s ears, as the smell enveloped him whole.

==chapter 1==

-tbc-