Your
True Tales
June 2006 – Page
26
Devil
on the Heath
by Ravenna
Near where I live, there is a nature reserve and lots of trees and woodland. I always used to love this place and would walk for miles in this place enjoying the scenery and the abundance of nature. One day I was walking in this place and I stumbled across a part of the nature reserve that I had not explored yet. I was eager for an adventure so I carried on walking, keen to see where this woodland trail would lead. It led deeper and deeper into the wood until eventually the path I was following shrank into nothing and I was left following a muddy, woodland trail.
I was thinking of turning back when I saw a clearing ahead of me in the wood. I headed for this clearing, and when I came to it I saw that the wood had come to an end and ahead of me was a rocky, desolate-looking heath with a single, dead tree on top of it. The tree was black, gnarled and devoid of foliage and all round it. The grass that was green everywhere else was dry and straw-like around the tree. I resolved to climb the very high, rocky heath and look out over the wood and maybe take a photograph if the view was a good one.
As I climbed the heath in the burning sunshine, I started to feel uneasy. There was no explaining this feeling, but there was something rather unusual about the place. Something about the tree on top of the rocky heath that was slightly menacing, I wondered why it was black in colour and why the grass around it was dead. But it was a beautiful day and I did not want to miss the chance of seeing a fantastic view. I finally got to the top of the heath after nearly slipping and falling a few times. I was pleased with the final reward – a magnificent view of the green wood, the emerald-green leaves almost glowing in the summer sunshine and warmth. A cool, hazy breeze blew through my hair and I approached the tree with a sense of triumph. I strode towards the ebony tree and stood next to it, placing my hand on a firm branch and looking out at the entire reserve atop the stranded, stony heath. I closed my eyes and felt the warm sunlight bathe my face and neck. This was lovely.
All of a sudden, there was a great coolness and I could feel the sunshine dissolving around me.The warmth was gone and in its place a dark, cold, vacuum. I opened my eyes and I could see the sunlight, but it was ahead of me, cascading down on the rest of the wood. The rocky desolate heath, however, was black and totally devoid of any sunshine or warmth. I was puzzled as to why everywhere else was sunny and the heath was black and cold.
Then I heard the voice. A rasping, hissing and very masculine voice. A vicious, snarling and horribly EVIL voice. "What is your name, girl?" it demanded. "Who are you?" it snapped. I looked around, shivering, to see who could possibly be talking to me. Nobody was there. Not a soul was around. I felt the cool breeze turn to ice on my face and the heath grew darker. The voice snarled at me and I could hear sinister laughter all around me. Then, I heard a growling sound that seemed to rise from the very earth below the rocks and made my feet shake as it swirled around me. The voice hissed and became louder. "Get out!" it barked. "Get out now. Don't EVER come here again!"
I let go of the branch I was holding and tried to find a place where I could quickly climb down the heath and leave at once. Before I had a chance to, I suddenly felt a painful sensation in my arm, as if someone with strong hands and sharp fingernails had grabbed me. I was hauled off the top of the rocks and down the ledge with such force that I nearly passed out. As I fell down the rocks, I frantically dug my nails into the rocks and scratched at them trying to grab onto something to stop myself from falling and landing on a stone slab at the foot of the heath. I managed to grab a thick weed that was growing in between some rocks. It broke my fall for about five seconds, then the root of the weed came loose from the rocks and I fell, screaming onto the stone below. I landed on my knee, which was extremely painful and I lay there for about a minute curled up in a ball wincing.
As I slowly got up and pushed myself to my feet, blood dripping from in-between my fingernails which had been scratched and torn, I saw a dark figure standing on top of the heath next to the tree. It was almost like a shadow and it was as black as anything could ever be, then it dissolved into the daylight with a cackle. I fled from the wood in tears as soon as my wounded knee would allow me. Whatever I had experienced, was a wicked entity that was totally hostile to any human being. It was a thoroughly evil presence. I was terrified by the experience, the telling of the story still horrifies me.
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