The Dead Grove

We are not living. We are not of this world. Not anymore" - the creature facing Randolph spoke in a hissing whisper.  Its mouth - or was it a snout - lacked any lips that would conceal rows upon rows of teeth sitting in its blackened gums. It had no eyes, but the empty eye sockets were focused on Randolph with tension and apprehension. "Why do you come here? Why do you wake up from our slumber? How dare you - a human - come to the sanctum of the Dead Grove?" Two sets of twisted horns or antlers adorning the beast's head lowered somewhat, as if in a threat.



Randolph didn’t know how to answer that. The misty wood smelled of ash and mildew and looked as if it was drained of all color. The trees and bushes lacked any foliage and seemed brittle to the touch. It's a dream - thought Randolph - it has to be.

"Of course this is a dream, vermin!" the creature muttered with growing anger. "How else would a human enter this sacred place, other than projecting its soul into our plane? You probably didn't intend for it to happen, now did you?" 

"No" admitted Randolph in a shaky voice.

"Of course you didn't. You, humans, are rarely driven by will. You just stumble upon things. You never intend to do things. They just happen for you." The creature's voice suddenly gave off more pain than anger. "Your world wasn't always yours, you know? Before you crawled out of your caves it was ours. But then you came, and things started to happen. One thing you did lead to another. Your kind was aimless, unorganized, conflicted. Yet, things happened. Progress happened. Out of your control, out of your hands. Change, whenever you show up, wherever you've stumbled. Chaos, all you brought to this world was chaos."

The creature sighed, and the sound made Randolph feel a sting of regret and shame deep inside.

"No, you didn't intend to come here and disturb our final resting place. Just like your kind didn't intend to wipe out my kind. No, you humans did that without any rhyme and reason. It just happened. Just as all the pain and destruction you've caused in the world."

"I'm sorry?" Randolph meant it as an apology. It came out as a question.

The creature laughed. The sound was guttural and shrieky at the same time. "You don't have to be sorry. It was eons ago. And our kind has made peace with its passing. See, before the last of us were gone, departed to roam the Dead Grove, we managed to exact revenge upon the vermin that has brought us doom. Humanity has been put under our curse. Your errant ways would make you suffer more than we have suffered. Your existence would remain aimless. You would toil under the sky you have stolen from us without any purpose or common goal. You would waste away, only ever catching a glimpse of your potential. You would all pass, each after suffering an unbearable life of senseless hardship, without real will or agency to be able to confront your fate. With each generation you would unwittingly make the world less and less a place you'd be able to live in. You would want the wrong things and pursue the wrong goals, until you'd bring doom on yourselves. Unintentionally, just like you did upon us."

"But... but this course of your's? It didn't work" - Randolph sounded more confident than he thought possible, under the circumstances. "The world is fine. We are fine!"

There was a spark of cold light, like a distant star shone in one of the creature's empty eye sockets. 

"Are you?" 

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