The Ferrymans Daughter

THE FOREST OF DEATH

  Left in her dust, The Well Dressed Man turned his attention to what lurked in the shadows. Back towards the ancient place, Jody approached the forest. In the darkness, the man listened carefully and heard the voice of the creature that he herd creeping and skulking about.

  "You again? Oh wait Jody, The Well dressed Man, yesssss, I know who you are. The real you! bringer of love; bringer of joy?" said deity in a sharp, smug voice.

  "You are correct fiend, it is me. All you bring in your wake is death, but what about life, those innocent souls you stole?" Jody questioned.

  The Beast of Hell paused."That woman and all the others you helped, belonged to me! you had no right, Jody. Oh, You thought locking me away would keep me at bay?" The vile fiend spit from his yap.

  "We have done this dance for 30 years and it’s getting kind of old,  so now it seems that it's time to put an end to you, you fucking stinking mutt! "Screamed The Well Dressed Man

  "Ha ha ha, boring...., You see; for every person you saved I had two more waiting. Did you think I would forget what you did to me so long ago? You and the White Witch, the fucking book. But my master desires her most of all. Herrr mmmm you know who I’m talking about. When I get her alone, I'm going to make her suffer Jody, ohh so slowly. Then when I'm done with her, my minions will be fed the scraps. Soo; get ready Mr Ferryman, it is to hell with you once I'm done!" replied the fiend.

  The beast let out a howl and the remaining wolves went on the offensive. They ran in attacking Jody as he put up his hands and sang a charming spell. It did not have much of an affect as only a few cut and run. The beast had grown in strength and his spells were excellent.

  It left him no choice but to deal with it in the most horrific way. He was unarmed, using his hands and feet as his weaponry. He drew upon the fighting knowledge that he had acquired a lifetime ago.

  He smashed his way through The Dark Minions as they attacked. They piled upon him, ripping and clawing, The Underlings shredded and tore at his clothes. With a mighty sweep, he threw them off, their bones snapping and popping. Whimpers and the cries of death followed as the wolves lay there, broken. He punished them inside the forest, just off of lost highway. Putting them out of their misery, he wept for their souls in the end.