Eight - Spirits

215 9 0
                                    

The land was alive, and it protected the Nahuati tribe on all sides.

Mountains lay to the west, dense forests lay to the east, a river boarded the south, and to the north was a great chasm with no end in sight, leading the Nahuati to believe that no man could traverse it. For generations the tribe lived in peace, slowly growing their community and experiencing harmony without much worry. So long as they respected and did not overtake from nature, All-Mother returned the favor.

This day, Atohi ran wildly through the forest. He leapt over rocks and fallen trees and dodged under branches. He zigzagged deeper and deeper into the forest, and as he did the afternoon sun crept higher and higher, it's rays blocked by the ever thickening canopy of leaves and boughs overhead. It was dim, and if he continued on eventually it would be dark. Atohi stopped running, slumped over with his hands on his knees, and his chest heaved and struggled to catch his breath. Suddenly, from behind, there was the sharp fluttering laughter, and two hands were upon his shoulders.

It was Aiyana, quiet as ever until the last second. She could never hold her laughter. She was screaming in delight and twirling around. Atohi sucked in his lips to quiet his laughter as they ducked together when they heard twigs cracking under a heavy foot. From behind the bushes they saw it was their friend, Alo, who was "it", and the running joke between the three of them was that he was always it, and would always be it, given that he was a bit too large to catch either of them. Though, unlike most other children, Alo liked being it.

As they waited, Atohi looked to Aiyana and noticed her hand on his shoulder still. The best way he could explain the feeling was warm. He loved the way Aiyana's hands felt on him, a thrill of excitement shot through him whenever she grabbed his arm during their jokes. His father had said this was because Atohi was nearly a man, and was starting to see Aiyana for the woman that she too was becoming. Atohi had been too embarrassed to agree, yet would find himself playing with her as often as possible.

Aiyana calmed her giggles and turned to Atohi. Before she could notice, his gaze snapped to a different direction.

"Atohi," she whispered. He again looked at her, smiling and pretending he hasn't been. "Let us split up again, then return the way we came. We will get way from Alo, and still be near the village."

Atohi nodded and in the spur of the moment placed his hand on top of hers. Her eyes squinted for a moment and she took a short breath. "We can, but we always do that. Why don't we try something new today and stay together?" He didn't know exactly what he was saying, he was only looking for an excuse. Aiyana squeezed his arm and looked him square in the eye, the corner of her lips tugging to a smile, and stole a kiss before sprinting off through the forest. He froze; the kiss sent every nerve in his body reeling with glee.

Yet instead of following through with Aiyana's plan, Atohi soundlessly jogged deeper into the forest. He was going to have a bit more fun. After a few moments, he saw something he'd never noticed before. Up ahead were two massive boulders that appeared to be stacked. As he approached it, he discovered that the boulders were gaping by about three feet. He stuck his head into the gap. Inside it smelled like moss and dirt, and felt humid. Atohi's eyes flashed when he realized these boulders made up the mouth of a cave. He took a deep breath to flatten his stomach, wedged himself between the rocks, and used the moss to help him slide inside.

The fall was only a few feet, but it was unexpected and he landed on his hands and knees. The cave floor felt slimy under his palms, as if the it was painted with moss. He stood and his ears flinched when they heard an odd chirping. It was too dark, so he narrowed his eyes and lifted his arms in front of his face to feel for what might be lurking. Then, the chirping sounds twisted into volatile screeches, and Atohi was bombarded with a solid cloud of tiny creatures hitting him repeatedly in the face and torso, their warm wretched bodies assaulting him, tangling into his hair, clawing at his clothes. He screamed and frantically swatted at them, but he couldn't tell whether or not he was having any effect. He huddled his head under his arms and let his eyes adjust

Horror Mansion: Short StoriesDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora