During the darkest part of the night in a field of overgrown grass, interrupted only briefly by a small mobile home, a tree started to grow. It grew unnaturally fast, first sprouting from the ground as a stalk, then a sapling, then bark started to groan as it formed and broke off. In a matter of seconds the tree was taller than the home that sat yards away. As the trunk grew and expanded it began to split down the center. Soon it had begun to resemble a diamond shape as the trunk split into two at the bottom and rejoined near the top. The tree continued growing. Only when the tree appeared fully grown did it stop expanding. A man stepped out of the space between the trunks.

A pair of expensive dress shoes crunched down on the hard grass as he stepped out. His immaculately clean, 3-piece suit rustled lightly in the wind. Dark hair reached down to his shoulders but besides that none of the features of his face were distinct. It was like looking at an object across a dark room, you could see the shape but nothing specific. He set his sights on the house and began to approach it.

He skipped up the steps of the rotten wood porch and reached the front door. The rusted metal doorknob rattled as he tried it to no avail. He settled for knocking.

“Hellooo? Anybody home tonight?”

In the silence of the field the volume of his voice was like a gunshot. There was no response from inside the house. The man sighed and hung his head regrettably before backing up a few steps. He covered the distance to the door at a run and rammed it with his shoulder. The plastic door snapped and tore away from its frame, falling into the house. He stood in the doorway and peered in.

“I didn’t want to barge in tonight, but you have something I need!”

Again, there was no response. The man pursed his lips and thought for a moment, then stepped into the darkness. The room he was in was empty. There was absolutely nothing on the walls or floor, no furniture, not even dirt. The only feature in the room was another doorway on the opposite wall. He crossed the room and walked through the doorway. It led him to an identical, featureless, room with another doorway. Only when he had passed through that doorway as well into the same room did he pause and laugh.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“You had me for a second there, a very interesting illusion! Unfortunately, I am on a tight schedule tonight and I don’t really have time to play games, so I’m going to ask that you drop it.” The last words came out in a low growl, anger finally dotting his calm facade.

His request was greeted by silence.

“Fine then.”

He thrust his hands out into the air suddenly and breathed in, closing his eyes. For a moment nothing changed, then his hands started to shake, he gritted his teeth. The walls of the room suddenly shifted, rotating and folding. The doorway ahead of him began to flash with different scenes. A nursery, a hospital room with a sick patient, the entry of a classroom, bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchens, until finally it settled on a bedroom as nondescript as the house that the man stood in. He let his arms down and opened his eyes. In the corner of the bedroom a small old woman was huddled, cradling a bundle of blankets. The man crossed over to her.

“To be honest I don’t understand, can you explain it to me?” He sneered as he stood over her. “What was the plan here? Did you honestly think I wouldn’t just come and find it immediately?” The woman was as silent as she had been when he knocked. “Give it to me.”

Finally the woman looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

“I can’t.”

“Well let me help you.” He pulled back and kicked her viscously in her ribs. A small choking sound escaped her, and she fell onto her side. The cloth slipped out of her hand and its contents rolled onto the floor. A pinky finger, tiny, infantile. The man stared down at it silently, rage deformed his featureless face. The woman looked up at him, triumph mixing with the tears in her eyes.

“Gotcha, fucker.”

He sliced his hand through the air and a bright beam of light slashed her neck. Her head toppled to the floor. He stood in the room composing himself for a moment and then left the house. This time he did not skip down the steps, he did not lightly crunch the grass. Anger pulsed with his every move. The man stepped back through the opening of the tree and disappeared. A moment later the tree began to groan again as it dried out and struggled under its own weight. A crack split the night and the tree fell over. Silence returned to the grass field.