He Sees You When You're Sleeping

14th December- The Evergreen Mother

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

An axe struck the base of yet another evergreen tree, and yet another one of her babies came crashing to the ground. A flare of pain shot through her as more and more of her children were stolen from her.
This slaughter had grown almost customary. Every year, some time before December, measly little ape-like creatures who called themselves "humans" came and took her children from her. The only times she saw them again was when they were dumped back in the forest, dead or dying, their limbs snapped from the weight of their torture.
These humans not only stole her loved ones, but had reduced her size to less than a quarter of its original form. Every year, axes and machines tore into her and ripped away her babies. But she didn't know how to stop it. But she knew one thing- she needed to stop this. And that's what she intended to do.

It was the night. The night that she'd waited for for the past seven decades. The night of revenge; the night when her children would cry out without mercy against the selfish acts of the humans. The night of Revolution.
Trees in the humans' gardens had reported what the humans used her children for. They seemed to have this tradition called "Christmas". Her children would be forced to hold the pressure of shining ornaments while they withered and died. The very thought of this sickened her. It filled her with a protective rage. And so she waited patiently for the opportunity to rise; when the Evergreen Mother would walk once more.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Another axe. Another one of her children stolen from her. But amongst her feelings of rage, she now sensed something new- victory.

The human buried his axe in the tree. Only a few more hits and it would fall. He wiped beads of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, before returning to work. A few seconds later, and the tree fell to the ground with a muffled thud. He heard a rustle behind him. Another goddamn bear. He stayed stock still, remembering his training. Only when he felt a cold shadow descend on him did he turn around.
A figure stretched above him, blocking the light of the moon, taller than any tree or building he'd ever seen. Trees woven together formed a skeletal body, and twisting roots formed wicked-looking claws. Knife-like flint teeth lined the creature's jaws. Two eyes glowed like headlamps in the darkness. And those eyes were fixed on him. The moving of joints was accompanied by the creak of ancient wood. The creature lowered its head and tilted it to one side. However he rationalised it, the look it gave him alone sent chills down his spine. It was a look of great intelligence; but most importantly, a look of hate. The rage of a mother was painted on its monstrous face. It was hungry. Hungry for revenge.
The man's axe fell to the ground. He began to back away. Slowly, slowly, as not to upset the beast which crouched before him. His heart thumped in his chest like that of a scared mouse. She could hear it, and she savoured the noise.
He broke into a run. Tripping through the snow, it was a feeble attempt. She reached out a long arm and plucked him from the ground like an insect. He squirmed helplessly in her grasp. She raised a single hooked claw. He took one last look of fear into those unforgiving eyes before she made sure he never felt anything again.
Guts spilled onto the floor from a knife-like gash in his body and stained the snow red. The Evergreen Mother opened her maw and let out a haunting cry, one that rang with the screams of her children.

She turned her head to the village. Smoke wafted from chimneys, and there was the sound of distant chatter. She could sense her children inside those houses, crying for help. I am coming, my loves, she promised.

"Mummy, did you hear that?" Silence. A girl stared out of the frost-covered window. "Why is the forest moving?" Asked Lisa, poking at the glass. Her mother sighed, walking out of the kitchen, her cooking gloves still on.
"There's nothing there, dear." She told her daughter, before turning to return to the kitchen. Lisa sounded more desperate as she tugged on her mother's sleeve.
"Mummy, you didn't look! It's there again!" There was a hint of urgency in her voice. Her mother glared at her daughter, but peered out of the window into the darkness.
"I told you, there's nothing-" her breath caught in her throat. Two yellow orbs shone out of the darkness, staring straight at her. She felt a cold dread run through her body. That gaze- she knew it. She'd worn it on her very own face. It was the gaze she'd worn when her son had been lost in that car accident. The loss of a mother, bent on revenge. Suddenly, the eyes disappeared. A darker shadow moved slowly among the treetops, blocking the rest of the forest that lay behind it. The colour flushed from the mother's face when she realised what was happening. It was coming closer.
"What's wrong?" She heard Lisa ask. The next thing that family knew was blackness.

A huge clawed hand crushed the house like a fly. Screams rang out through the air from men and women alike. The choir stopped, suddenly unable to make a noise. Once the screams had ceased, a long silence passed. Everybody was too afraid to say anything. They stared in a mixture of awe and fear at the beast that stood before them. That's when the Evergreen Mother cried out in vengeance. She picked up the crumpled body of Lisa and raised it for everyone to see. Vengeance was finally hers. These were her triumphant thoughts as blood spilled onto the ground.

The valley was silent. The only sound was the crunching of snow as she made her way back to her forest. Exhausted, she settled down in a large clearing and let go. The trees which had once made her body creaked under their own weight and collapsed. The light from her eyes faded and pieces of lifeless fell to the ground. And so Evergreen Mother was no more.
But she hadn't died before she'd done one last special thing- celebrated Christmas.

Some say that if you're brave enough to wander the forest of Aspondere, you can still hear the screams of the village and the wails of the forest. That you can feel her breath on the back of your neck. Some even say that you can still see the organs of the human children hanging on the branches of the trees that the Evergreen Mother so carefully preserved.