“Don’t come into work tomorrow, a better job could’ve been done by a literal animal. You’re fired.”
The words rang through Brent’s mind as he sped down the country lanes. He had his headlights full blare, illuminating the otherwise lightless road as he sped through. This was the second time this month. Before this, he had been living off his parents backs, having moved with them to England after they retired young. Even he knew how pathetic he was, of course never admitting it. It was clear why no companies hired him for long.
It had been 6 weeks since his fathers death, his mother having died 3 years prior. He’d attended the funeral, of course, like any good son. Both his parents had been well off, retiring at 40, fairly young. According to the will, their total wealth was worth over £1,000,000. Being an only child, he had sole claim to their fortunes, so by no means was Brent left poor or homeless. The issue came from other family members.
His aunts and uncles all disregarded Brent. As a jobless hermit, spending most of his time in his room doing fuck all, no one actually respected the fact he got off lucky with the fortunes of a lifetime. This had to change. Despite being a worthless member of society, he wanted respect. So he tried his best to get a job. A lesser reason was that after the first week he felt lonely in his big empty house in the middle of the countryside.
“For fucks sake”, he muttered to himself. “Another dud.” Having never worked a day in his life, he lacked a lot of skills. He thought the low pay made up for this, but they still undervalued his efforts. “Why is a job necessary? What about work makes you a better person? I’m a perfectly fine person, surely.” he said to no one in particular, yet still doubting his own words.
As he sped through the night, the sky opened as heavy rain fell. Lightning flashed and the wind howled. The night was like a beast, attacking his vehicle as he sped through the country lanes. But the storm was the least of his worries.
On both sides large wooded areas crowded around the lane as he approached the corner. He noticed the approaching headlights too late. His car collided with the heavy van head on. The sound of screeching tires, glass smashing and the impact came together as a cacophony of agony in his ears.
The last thing he noticed was motes of, what seemed like, ash or shadow exiting the back of the van and approaching him. Upon making contact with his skin, they glowed like embers, yet didn’t burn his skin. As he fell unconscious, he felt dread, knowing he wont wake up the as the same person he is now.
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"Got a crash, 2 dead and one breathing. Immediate priority. Location: Lancer Lane, near Pinington. Found by a Mrs. Grenwitch."
The first responders were Gina and her co-worker, Andrew, two paramedics that were on call nearby. As the pair arrived, they saw the scene. The first corpse Gina noticed was the driver, his head bulging slightly, a clear sign of internal haemorrhaging, caused by a cracked skull. Then she saw the passenger still in the vehicle, her hands grasped around the branch brutally impaled on her throat. The driver of the car was lay on the ground, hardly looking worse for wear despite the car crash. There was an old lady, presumably Mrs. Grenwitch, in a shawl crouched over him, a dog pulling on a lead in her hand as if to get away from the unconscious man. Poor lady was probably on a morning walk with her pup before they came across this carnage Gina thought.
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As the pair began to check the vitals of those involved in the accident, the police arrived. The police’s job was to find identification of the wounded and dead so their families can be notified immediately. The survivor was Brent Langley, the police turning up data from his immigration to the UK from the US. The other two lacked identification, not even a drivers licence pointing out who they are. They were both dressed in similar black uniforms and she noted the logo on the van, showing it belonged to New Dawn Ltd. A medical company ran by a local, wealthy, family.
"What the fuck is that? Is it a person?"
The shout came from the back of the van, one of the policemen on the scene having gone to check the back in an attempt to find out if there were other passengers in the accident. Deeming this new passenger a priority over the fairly stable Mr Langley, Gina went to join the policeman behind the van.
But, when she got to the back of the van, she saw a sight she couldn't fully grasp at first. A naked, vaguely human figure was strung up, impaled through the chest by a spike. The body was strung up by chains, manacles attached to wrists. The arms of the creature were disproportionately long, creeper vines climbing up from the shoulders, and tipped with oddly sharp talons made of wood. Upon further inspection, the body was clothed in plants - leaves and branches preserving its modesty.
Its head was the most disturbing sight. Eyes, sclera black and pupils the most natural of greens, glared daggers at the spike through its torso. The mouth was twisted in a permanent grimace, the rage in its final moments so powerful it seemed determined to intimidate the life back into its body. The head was crowned by a wreath of holly and thorns, the crown growing from the flesh of its scalp. Above pointed ears were antlers of yew, branching out and coming to pointed tips.
Almost as if summoned by their unwelcomed entrance into the back of the van, a black car came round the corner. The front windows were tinted to allow no light to escape, making the vehicle look like a spectral entity rather than a mundane mustang. As the driver got out of the vehicle, he marched over to the policeman standing beside Gina. He looked like a cliche man in black. Pitch black suit, contrasted by the white button up, and a gun on his belt.
When he was but an arms length from the emergency, he began his declaration, a voice filled with authority and unspoken threats. "We'll be taking the animal in the back of the van. Legally, it is property of New Dawn Ltd. and we wish to keep it in our possession. You won't talk about this either. Not to anyone. We will also take the vehicle and our two drivers. If you have any complaints, state them now."
The words clouded the emergency service pair’s minds as only the desire to follow the command remained. As he finished, more cars appeared, the men in black taking control of the scene. Mrs. Grenwitch was the last to get the speech from the original man in black, leaving them to all agree that they should tell no one about this. Rushing Brent to the hospital, the paramedics were the first to leave the scene.