A Calling

A Calling

Every night over the past week, terrifying images shook Cyrus from his slumber panting and sweating. It became so bad after day three that he tried to avoid falling sleep at all, but his mortician business began suffering due to his sleep deprivation. Too many mistakes were made. Whatever was bothering to him, he vowed to resolve it this Saturday.

Friday night's dream had been the strangest so far. In it, he saw himself approaching the same lone tree. Its crooked truck and spindly, leaf-less branches reached downward as if they wanted to grasp and lift him. All around the obscene tree was a beautiful grassy meadow, and just outside of it was full forest filled with leaf-filled trees. What beckoned him to such biological profanity?

A brisk breeze strafed his bald head as he drove toward a park in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio Saturday. It was a park he'd never visited or even heard about before, but today he was on a quest. He couldn't explain it if he tried. It was an urge deep within his psyche which called to him, and he had no control over it.

The wonderful breeze continued as he aimlessly strolled through the park. He found the meadow and the air became still. In its center stood the tree. Soon a rancid odor filled the air. He shouldn't be here, but he approached the tree. The stench overwhelmed him as he closed in and the ground became soft. His feet sank causing him to lift his knees higher. He wanted to turn and run but couldn't. Then throughout the meadow, tombstones arose from the meadow followed by collapsed coffins. The ground became saturated with death. Just then, clarity prevailed. The souls of those he callously murdered over the past year wanted him.