The Tree from Netherworld

    It was a dark night. No stars not even moon peeked through the shroud of darkness. In the distance, she could hear the faint roar of the sea and the wind whispering through the coconut palms. More than once she stumbled over the exposed roots and the tombstones that the earth had failed to swallow. But she persisted; panting as she walked deeper into the maze of the aerial roots, that moved around her like pythons and boas; at times striking her until she stumbled and at times attempting to engulf her. 

    Every few steps, her hands shaking from something more than just the coldness of the air, she lighted a matchstick. Its flickering glow was her only source of light. At each pause, she thought of turning back, of returning to safety for her bedroom. Nature would kick in then causing her to turn in the opposite direction. But she forced herself to persists. She had to it. How could she not after finally learning the truth? Her mind wandered to the lives lost; of the friends and neighbors, because no one dared to fight. She needed to do this just so they could rest in peace. 

    With shaking hands she lit another match, and by its light saw that she had reached. She was now standing in front of a walled structure. Once a jail, the roof had long collapsed and the pristine white walls were now moss-covered to the extend you’d think they were painted as such. In front of her framed by the walls on both sides and the aerial roots descending from the side, stood the very trunk of the tree. 

    Her wrist watched chimed, indicating midnight. With a long, slow breath she tried to muster the courage that she lacked. The air crackles as the matchstick scraped against the box. The match was lit. She flicked it, landing noiselessly on the ground. It was always dry and yet the tree was always green. Any second now she thought. She felt it all; first the wind dropping and the whispering roots quieten. The fire was lit, spreading across the dry land around like a wildfire. It had traveled up the trunk and towards it branches. The entire night sky was illuminated by its blaze. And in that blaze she noticed something which hitherto had gone unnoticed. 

    With horror she noted the urgency with which the aerial roots withered and snaked around as if trying to escape the burning tree. But was it really burning? The red angry specks of fire were replaced in places with bright blue ones. The tree was fighting back. The realization shook her to the core. Her breath was caught in her throat. Unprepared and aware as she was about the tree’s power, she wanted to leave. But she couldn’t move. In the glow of the two fires, she saw the aerial roots wrapping around her legs, holding her in place. Fright filled her soul. Her breath hitched as she tried to free herself from the roots. The more the roots covered her torso, the lesser the fire seemed to do any damage. 

    She could hear her heart pounding and in that beat she heard another voice, only whispers first, but then a booming. It echoed not just around her but within her. 

None shall set free, once stepped inside my domain. Forged in fire, I breathe in its chaos. Forever shall I live, trapping ignorant souls, for I am the TREE OF THE NETHERWORLD, defying nature, and only blood shall quench my thirst.