A Three-Book Collection by M V Stott

Author:M V Stott [Stott, M V]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Uncanny Kingdom
Published: 2018-08-21T23:00:00+00:00

18

February 14th, 2012, Somewhere in Wales

Hell is not just one place, it is many places.

Think of Hell like a fungus, buried deep under the Earth. Though, of course, it is not below the Earth at all, just as Heaven is not above. Such terms are meaningless when it comes to such places, but they serve as handy tags to those with a flat understanding of the universe.

So think of Hell like a fungus.

There is the main body of it. A fist of dank despair. And squirming from this central, rotten mass are millions of rancid tendrils. Roots winding through rock and dirt and sea and reality, until they hit fresh air.

A little piece of Hell in the open.

A fissure. A rift. A crack.

An exit, an entrance, a meeting place.

Most of these seams to Hell are beyond reach for anyone who walks upon the planet’s surface, Uncanny or not. They simply do not exist in a way they could be found, seen, or understood.

But still, enough of them do.

In a cave perhaps, high on the side of a mountain. At the bottom of an unused, dry well by a family home in the English countryside. And then there is the one Magda found, under the arching roots of an ancient oak tree known as the Creeping Oak. The Creeping Oak stands somewhere in a desolate, beautiful area of Wales. It is best if the location is kept vague.

The tree itself has stood for many centuries, and its roots jut high from the dirt, as though arching their backs like a cat. Locals said it was because the tree used them to creep across the countryside, using its roots like a spider would its legs, but that of course is impossible.

Of course.

Magda had been searching for some years for a place like the Creeping Oak. Most who claimed to know the location of such a place, of a direct line to Hell, were more often than not lying, or at the very least ill-informed. Many of those that did actually know were unwilling to give up the information for any price, for such a place could be as precious as it was dangerous.

So Magda had searched. As she had kept her head down, attempting to keep off the radar of any wizard with a taste for her blood, to keep off the radar of that one wizard in particular, Magda had visited numerous Uncanny gatherings late at night and made her desires known.

Eventually, she had met an eaves who claimed to know the location of what she was after. In return for a taste of magic, he would tell her where it was hidden, and she agreed. The eaves told her, and Magda tore his throat out with her teeth and ate his heart.

The Creeping Oak stood alone upon a small hill, overlooking a barren valley. Winds tore at it as though trying to rip the tree from the land and deposit it far, far away, but the Creeping Oak stood strong against the winds, barely shaking a branch.

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