The Old Forest Gods

My story, if I can call it that, begins with me not believing on the old stories by my grandparents. I was born in the Congo and live in the city of Boma now as far away from home as possible because of what happened. I used to live in a town closer to the rain forests and border to Rwanda. As kids we used to scare each other or go out on adventures there and explore the fringes of the place to look for anything out imaginations could conjure. There were times where I would feel that there was someone watching us from a distance deeper in the forest but ignored it as there were many people going in and out looking for firewood.

My granddad would warn us not to stay too long in the forest as were old monsters living there, this would only fuel our curiosity to explore further. As we grew older, we explored less as life took over and added responsibility to finish school and then look for work. I was lucky as my father worked for a mine which allowed him to be able to send me a local university to learn. One holiday I returned home to visit my parents and remembered the forests that surrounded our tiny town.

I remembered the old stories that I was told about gods that were once worshipped and then abandoned in the forests when the missionaries came with the word of their god. Those old gods were more mysterious than what the white thought and tried their best to make us for them. The gods required more like livestock sacrifices to appease their hungers and at times thieves and other unwanted people were taken to the forest as offerings and left there. Never children nor the innocent, they were not blood thirsty as we were told. I decided to take a walk there and explore the old childhood hunting grounds, carefully though as there were soldiers hunting for people sometimes. Walking around and reaching a waterfall I sat there and lost track of time as by the time I checked it was past 6 and it was getting dark, hurrying back I felt that many eyes were upon me and pressing down on me. I could not exactly gauge where they were, but I could feel like my energy was being sapped from my body. Getting tired every step I felt as though my shoes were filled with stones.

Then I heard them, the noises. It felt as though they were calling for me but not my name. Like as if someone from in front and behind were chanting ‘boy come to me’ then the trees were shaking above me. There was no wind when I first came in but now there was like a great whoosh of wind, the calling started to get louder and I began to see shapes moving around in the trees. All round I kept seeing things darting from one tree to another. I kept moving forward as much as I could and then I saw them, the gods my elders talked about. At first, they were blurry shadows in the forest and then as they moved from tree to tree they became clearer, the thumping of their feet was deafening and I was loosing focus along with my breath.

A hand shot out from beside me and the pulled me to the ground, fell like a sack and lost focus again for a minute. All the while the noise and wind made it even worse, then came the smell of rotting meat and excrement. I became nauseous and threw up where I sat and tried to look up. As I moved my head a sharp pain stung my back as though I was being stabbed and a voice shouted ‘a child without a parent is not welcome here, go back or I will eat your flesh!’

I tried to get up after hearing that and run again, I slipped on my vomit and almost fell again but grabbed something to steady myself. I then remembered that there was no tree next to where I lay and shuddered as I turned to see the thing I was holding. It was a stick made from bones covered in blood, there was a hand nearer to the top and it looked like a monkey’s paw without the fur and as I moved to release my grip and face came into view. It was a woman’s face, but the lips and nose were torn of revealing the bone underneath, the eyes were what scared me they were black with red points that shone and I screamed. Staggering back from it I tried to turn and run again but I was locked onto the gaze, blood was dripping form the scalp as it stared at me wordlessly. I was scared out of my mind and wanted to run but was hypnotized by the eyes. Another hand came up and ran across my face slowly, I was shivering wildly as it slowly moved across my face. Just then I heard a shout and the face turned to see where it came from, I turned also towards the sound and it was a guerilla solder. He was shouting at us to stand and wait for him, the figure in front of me moved like a bold of lightning towards the soldier.

He fired his gun but nothing happened as the bullets flew through the figure, scared even he tried to turn and run but the figure was upon him and stabbed him with the claw like fingers and lifted him up. Stabbing him again with the other hand the figure tore the soldier in 2 and I watched a rain of blood cover the figure. Grabbing a part, it immediately tore a piece meat to eat and turned to me slowly, ‘run child, you are still innocent.’

I ran from there and it felt like a hundred years had passed as I reached the edge and burst through the edge. I fell on the grassy hill that I came to and tried to slow my breathing and then noticed that it was still light, I fumbled to check my watch and it was only 3 in the afternoon. Confused I looked around there was no one there, in fact I was good five minutes away from my town. I was scared and quickly ran home. After that time, I never returned to the place again. The image of how the figure had torn the man into 2 pieces still haunts my dream. I told this to my grandmother, and she looked like even she had seen it. ‘you were lucky my child, we have forgotten them in there, but they have not forgotten us. The old gods are still waiting to be worshipped again.”

I asked if the one I saw has a name and she told me that they were never given names lest they leave the forest and come looking for their food in towns.

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