The Rose Garden

Chapter 1 ~ The Crawling Vine

I am so sorry to any followers because of all these updates (2x now), but I wanted the thing to be in the correct order and I needed to add a TW

Also sorry for the hiatus on this for like forever, I just forgot

Tw///Murder, violence, alcohol, stupidity, gore, horror, guilt, (depression?), slight self harm (not in a depressive way), blood

Many years afterwards, the small rose garden was hidden from time. A forest grew and flourished around the remains of the small garden, destroying the old stone walls that protected the garden from the outside. Of course, the small home that the Rosanas lived in was no more, it had been destroyed far before the garden had.

Lewis was walking through town, carrying a basket. He was humming a small tune as he went towards the bakery. He stopped in front of the large door that smelled of freshly baked bread, covered in rich wheat and soft grain. Lewis took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the delicious pastry items. Slowly pushing the door open, he stepped inside. "Why hello hunny!" welcomed the local baker, Miss Baler. "Hi there Miss Baler!" replied Lewis. "Come for your free sample?" Quizzed Miss Baler . "Yea, I'm really sorry I can't ever pay you.."
He felt rather guilty about taking food from her every day. It was like stealing. It was wrong.

"Oh sugar, don't you worry about a thing. It's fine, I can always make more, it's fun for me. Now come along out back, I have a fresh loaf for you."

Miss Baler led Lewis behind the counter and into the back, where all the spare baked goods were stored.

"Alright hunny, here you go. One freshly baked loaf of bread, and some cookies on the side. But Shh! Don't tell anyone, okay baby?" Miss Baler said in a light tone.

"Of course, thank you so much Miss Baler." Lewis said. He went back to his house. He lived near the woods, which were a deep and threatening place. People said that the forest used to be bright and cheerful, but one day something happened. They refused to talk about what said thing was though. Maybe they didn't know. Didn't remember. Didn't want to remember.

Of course, none of those little fairytales scared Lewis. Stories are stories after all, and that's what he thought to himself as he jumped over his garden wall, and strolled into the forest. Mama and Papa wouldn't be home for a while, so he took in the scenery to pass the time. Big, looming pine trees, with branches jutting out everywhere. The grass was shriveled somewhat but still growing nonetheless. The bushes and greenery seemed to jump out at you. And come to think of it, a dark aura came across the air.

Crack.

Lewis jumped. What was that sound? He turned. Oh, just a broken tree branch, he must've stepped on it. It was strange though, he didn't feel anything. What if..
"No." Lewis thought. "Old Wives Tales are Old Wives Tales. There really isn't anything haunting this forest. Stop being paranoid." He scolded himself. He shook his head and ventured onward. Lewis kept going for a while.

Craww! Craww craww!

He turned. Some crowd had landed on a branch nearby, and other branches too. He counted them. 1, 4, 7, 10, 13. 13 crows. That was strange. Why did so many decide to land here? He figured it made sense since it was their home after all. 13 crows. It kinda reminded him of a rhyme he was told when he was younger. One for sorrow, two for joy, three for.. something. He couldn't be bothered to remember.

As Lewis kept walking, he came across a clearing. It was a wide, open space, strange for such a dense forest. There weren't many trees here specifically. Just a single red rose. Lewis carefully approached it. He touched it, gently, caressing the petals with his fingers. They felt somewhat dry, but the rose was clearly alive. As he noticed this, he felt a cool but stern gaze fall upon him, but he didn't really question it. He leaned down to take a sniff of the delicate flower when suddenly

THWACK!

A vine had coiled itself around Lewis's leg. It tugged, and Lewis tumbled to the ground, hitting his chin hard. He screamed.

A gruff, distorted and strained voice called out to him.

"W..hat are you.. do...ing?"

Lewis looked to see where the voice was coming from, but with paralyzing horror realized he couldn't.

"W..were you trying to sme..ll my r...ose?"

He could barely make out what it was saying, but he understood. Lewis swallowed his fear and tried to answer.

"Uhm, uh. No, no, I wasn't, I promise!"

He could feel the gaze harden.

"Wr..ong. Answer."

The vine whipped up his leg even farther. He tried to scream again, but the vine covered his mouth. He started to cry.

Just then, he spotted a gleaming sharp stone by his arm. He reached for it. Almost, almost! If he could just..!

He grabbed it, and swiveled around to cut off the vine with a forceful "Chop!" and he started to run. His feet thundered under him, almost matching the rate at which his heart was thumping. The drumming beneath his legs helped to ground him, but not enough. The voice from earlier came back and almost sang to him.

"Come.. b..ack. D..on't you want to play..?"

He sped up, and collapsed into a cave. But he couldn't rest, not yet anyways. He needed to warn, warn someone, anyone! of this monster that was trying to get him. He didn't have anything to write with. What was he going to d-

Suddenly, Lewis gained an idea and used the rock that cut the vines to do the same to his wrist. Blood gushed out, and he drentched his finger in it. He started scribbling on the wall. This had to work, he had to save someone. It was too late for him, he knew that in his soul already, but if he just—!

THWACK!

Lewis's arm jerked back as a new vine curled around it and yanked him backwards. "No—! I couldn't finish, I couldn't save— I couldn't—!"
The vine crept up his arm towards his mouth as the same, chilling, horrifying voice cooed to him,

"W..e'll play now, won..'t we?"

The vine wrapped itself around his mouth, with the end trying to wiggle its way inside.

"We'll play fo..ever."

Lewis tried to breathe, tried to take in one final breath, tried to do anything. He just had to breathe, or he'd suffocate. Inhale, just do it, he had to—

He gasped.

And then, fell still.

The vine reached his brain, and grew within him, from the inside out. The breath that Lewis took had been his last. His corpse was gently dragged away by the vines, his dying message still gleaming on the walls.

His last hope for whoever was next.