The Apple Grove

A boy and a girl are running through the forest. Down a slope, looking back as if someone is after them. She stumbles, he stops and runs back for her. He takes her hand, about to pull her up. Then they burst into laughter.

They had been on a boat trip and disembarked on an island. They came across a large apple grove by a house in the woods. Bountiful apples, tempting as hell. They jumped over the fence and helped themselves greedily.

Who’s there? An angry voice. They had ran.

Ole got Tina on her feet. They ran down to the boat and cast off. He started the engine and set off at full speed. They looked at each other and burst out laughing again.

A sudden slam.

Tina was lying in the water. The boat was upside down, dabbing beside her with a big hole in the bow. Ole! Where was Ole? She looked around. He was floating lifelessly face down. She swam hastily towards him, turned him around. She pulled him by his shoulders towards the island. He awoke as they reached the shore, coughing. They saw the boat sink with their bags, their mobile phones. Everything.

That was close! Said Ole after a while. You saved my life!

Tina looked around, nervously. What do we do now?

They were far from the mainland.

We’ll have to go up to the house and ask for help.

He laughed. Fuck! She laughed too, but it was indeed a shitty situation.

They walked up again and found a gate in the fence. A path went up towards the house, a mansion from the early twentieth century built on a small hill. Once it had been beautiful and grand, now dilapidated, with several windows nailed shut with wooden boards,the paint peeling off the walls. Had it not been for the cushions in the chair outside it would seem completely abandoned. Large apple trees adorned the hill down to the woods.

Hello? Ole said as they approached. No one answered. The door was open. Hello! He said again, a little louder. Is anybody home?

Ole, let’s go, said Tina. I don’t like this.

But what shall we do?

Let’s go down to the water, see if there comes a boat or something.

No, let’s wait a little, they probably have a phone. We can call the Coast Guard. He sat down on the steps.

They waited a while. It was getting dark.

A scream came from the forest. A human in trouble. Ole jumped on his feet.

What was that? Exclaimed Tina, eyes widening.

Ole walked towards the sound. It sounds like someone’s in danger! We must go and see!

They ran down to the edge of the forest, stopped for a moment. Then they heard another scream. Far more heartbreaking. A scream of pain and terror. A scream of murder, and it was close.

Tina grabbed Ole. We should get out of here!

He stood staring into the woods. Something moved. A figure came walking towards them in the dark forest. He had a big saw in his hands.

Ole backed. E-excuse me, is everything okay? He stuttered. The man rushed towards him.

Tina took a few steps up. Ole, come on!!!

Ole turned and started running, at the same time. He lost balance and fell over. Tina began to run in his direction, but stopped when she saw the man, bearded, dirty, standing over him. He raised his saw with both hands and hit the rough, rusty tags into Oles head. He flinched. Split it down the middle.

Tina screamed. She screamed like no one had screamed in ages. A terrified, intense scream from hell. She ran. She did not look back. She reached the gate, opened it. Stopped. The horrible figure stood on the trail in front of her. He walked towards her. Too scared to scream she turned and ran towards the house.

She slammed the front door, fiddling with the lock. Locked it. Ran to the window. Looked out. No one there. A sound behind her.

She stares into his eyes. The killer. He stands in front of the only exit. She begins to cry. Sinks down on her knees. Begging. Pleading. Don’t hurt me. Please, don’t hurt me!

He walks over to her. His eyes lit up with hatred.

Apple thieves. Intruders.

He lifts the saw. Slices her shoulder near the neck. The saw sinks into her flesh. A strange, choked wail comes out of her. He pulls the saw. Bones cut. She lies on the floor. The blood pumping from her neck. He strikes again. Again. And again.

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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mikhail_Bakunin#Bibliography

Tears of Blood

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