A little piece of Eden. Saturday.........The diary of an occult resolution assistant.

Saturday 00:10

I was running through the woods off of the Fernum estate. The glow from my watch held a green arrow pointing in the correct direction but it did not fill me with the comfort of my sat nav on long and unfamiliar journeys. More of a compass it pointed where I needed to head and not by which route I needed to follow. This doesn't sound like much of a problem until you find huge trees and expanses of biting thorn bushes covering your path and having to back track with a vibrating watch insisting you are going the wrong way. As a navigation medium it was heaven sent, but it was hell on my night vision which erased itself every time I looked down into the illuminated screen and led me to run into broad trees on more than one occasion.

The watch, I decided was useless; its arrow pointed where it was virtually impossible to get to and if it had been given to me by Xanthic or one of his demon kin I would have thought it designed to really tic me off. The land in front of me was strewn with thorn, clawing branches and evil looking ground cover. Where are all the little criss-crossing well worn paths?

"To hell with it" I whispered as I psyched myself up to enter the torturous terrain and after a twisted ankle and a flat on my face fall to my surprise found myself exactly where I needed to be. An opening about the size of a village hall stood proud within a rough circle between the heavy trees that radiated age simply through their dimensions and reach; they held hands as if ringing the opening with interlocking branches who's leaf bestrewn fingers hid the vast majority of space from the sky above. The moon, as full, round and bright as every I had seen it cast creamy illumination upon an alter made of fallen branches in the centre. A crowd, hidden beneath cowls of silver and blue danced and sang as a lone figure all in midnight blue, arms raised high as if reaching for the orbiting soul of the moon itself, stood resolutely as the song grew in tempo and volume.

Thankful for the cover of the woods, I watched as a figure, this time clad solely in silver approached the blue, the hooded head low knelt when it got to the alter and the blue cloak billowed as its wearer lowered its arms and placed them around silver's neck. The hands pulled the silver cloak tight around the neck and from my view point it looked as it it was trying to choke its wearer. The blue hood pulled far forward only gave a deep blackness and no clue to the person within.

The singers gave a harmonious high note, it hung in the air as if the very sound was a cloud floating within the clearing and then on mass they ran towards the kneeling figure and threw themselves on forming a solid wall of cloaked bodies shrieking as they gleefully did so.

A lump formed in my throat; what was I witnessing here in the deepest park of the woods? Was this a ritualistic murder? It could fit the information received and observed. My brief was to watch, not to get involved, but how could I not? A life was at stake and what would the authorities say if I saw it all and did nothing to help? There must have been ten to twenty of them down there and without seeing who was under the all concealing cloaks and hoods it could be anyone of any sex and stature. Would I be killed if I ran in screaming?

My heart was beating faster than I have ever experienced and it felt like it was thumping through my chest like a sewing machine on steroids. I spun my head looking all around me as if a friendly wood cutter was rushing to aid with his axe held high ready to swing and any big bad wolf who could be under the cloaks ahead of me.

I rocked on my feet caught between the wanting to help but without the will to act; I was cold, colder than I have ever been and sick that I was not doing something; even self preservation had been defeated as I could not even move back deeper into the woods and away from the arrow that was even now pointing straight towards the alter and vibrating on my wrist causing my numb arm to shake. There is an evolved survival instinct that must have been literally saved my ancestors life; its a way of making the body more efficient at fighting or fleeing from danger by expelling certain body fluids and thus reducing body functions of digestion and refining and putting the energy where it is needed. The internet also adds that some predatory animals used to stop to eat the "removals" and give my forebear a better chance to escape. I followed a long family tradition and expelled my lunch, dinner and tea and in a little way nourished the tree I was now supporting myself with.

I was noticed, the flock of people separated and with cloaks billowing behind them like a peacock tail spread wide they covered the ground in my general direction with calls to each other once they spotted me, the others further away changed course and flanked my position. I turned slipped and kicked myself into a standing sprint but got no further than a single pace before hands were upon me and pulling me back. Struggling ineffectively against the many hands I was pulled down the sort slope and towards the alter and a prone silver figure laying before it.

The blue robe swept around to the front and grabbed me by my collars as dragged me to my feet.

"Ah Hell." I said out loud,  "At least I was supposed to try and make contact with you tonight, I was just told to be more professional about it."