His Rose

That morning was the first time in a long time that Jason had actually felt hungry. Normally, he only ate because he needed to eat to survive, and he needed to survive if he was to protect his forest and satisfy his mother’s voice in his head.

But that morning, he was watching the yellow-haired girl, as he had been for the past week. And she was cooking something that smelled good, and the scent of whatever it was had made him hungry.

So he had left. He had his machete with him still, but that wasn’t very useful for hunting. He trekked back to his cabin to collect his bow, some arrows, and the rest of his supplies. It took him a while to get all of the things together, but he was in no rush. He tucked his skinning knives into an old backpack, along with a canteen. He slung the bow over one shoulder and tucked two arrows into his belt.

Suddenly one of the strings of bells jangled. He knew that one - it was attached to a trip wire on an old footpath nearby, and food was instantly forgotten as his mother started whispering in his head.

“Bad people, Jason - in your forest. Kill the bad people, Jason. Kill them for mother.”

Armed with his bow and arrows and machete, Jason ran through the forest. As he approached, he spotted a man wrestling with something on the ground from a distance through the trees. His one visible eye narrowed as he pulled an arrow from his belt. It wasn’t a hard shot, and he got the bad man right through the eye. There was a scream, and a rustling of leaves. A moment later, another man burst onto the path and came to an immediate halt upon viewing Jason’s handiwork.

It made him an easy target, standing stock still in the middle of an open path. Jason threw the machete expertly, and it lodged neatly in the man’s skull. He waited a few moments for more screams, but there was only silence.

His mother’s voice faded to a distant murmur, then disappeared, just like it always did when all the bad people were dead. The silence left him satisfied, knowing that he had made his mother happy. He stalked out onto the path to retrieve his machete from the bad man’s skull. His hunger returned as he was wiping the blood off the blade, and he wondered whether he ought to burn the bodies or hunt first.

Leaves rustled behind him. Jason whirled around, raising his machete to strike.

It was the yellow-haired girl.

She was in his forest. People who came into his forest were bad, that’s what his mother’s voice always told him. He needed to kill her. He waited for his mother’s voice to tell him to do it, waited for the whispers to start again.

Her voice didn’t come.

The yellow-haired girl stared at him for a moment, then scrambled to her feet and ran down the path. Still, his mother’s voice didn’t come.

Confused, not sure what to do without his mother’s instructions, Jason did what he always did when someone ran: he followed.

Rose ran as fast as she could on legs that felt as limp as wet noodles. She stumbled more than once, but through some miracle managed to stay upright. Ahead of her, the trees stopped at the edge of a sandy beach. Rose hit the sand running, floundering and falling onto her knees. She wallowed, trying to get her feet back under her on the wet, slippery sand.

Jason could tell the girl was terrified. She was running away from him, and that was what the bad people always did. Did that make the girl bad? He stopped at the edge of the trees, only a few yards from her, watching as she struggled to stand.

“Jason.”

Jason straightened, relieved that his mother’s voice had finally come back to tell him what he should do.

“Help her, Jason.”

Help? Jason shook his head, confused.

“This girl isn’t bad, Jason. She didn’t want to hurt you. Help her, Jason. You’re mother’s good boy, aren’t you?”

Jason nodded.

“She is a good girl, Jason. Your good girl. Good boys help good girls. Good boys protect good girls. Those bad men wanted to hurt her, Jason. You need to help her.”

Jason nodded again, comprehension slowly dawning. The yellow-haired girl wasn’t like all those bad girls who came to his forest and did bad things - she was a good girl. She was a good girl, and he was a good boy. He had to help her, and protect her, like his mother said. Just like he did with the bad men on the path. Good girls weren’t very strong, he knew. They needed good boys to help them and protect them.

Rose was still trying to crawl across the beach, tears running down her face. She let out a sob, sure that the large man still standing on the edge of the forest was going to kill her any second. She heard him coming up behind her, and she turned around, trying to scramble backwards so she could keep her eyes on him.

“P-Please...,” she begged. “Please...”

The giant man leaned down and grabbed one of her arms, hoisting her to her feet. Too scared to resist, Rose let him. She didn’t even struggle as he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her over his shoulder.

“Let me go, please!” she demanded weakly. “Please! Where are you taking me?”

Jason didn’t answer, just shifted her weight slightly on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her thighs where they rested on his chest, and started walking.

Too terrified to function and unable to take any more stress, Rose passed out.