“Only the dead can see my forest,” said the one holding the lantern.
“I’m sorry?” I said. “The freshly dead come and come with dreams
of how they believe the afterlife will be, though they may die again
and again in my forest.” And there this elder lady lifted a finger and
added, “now, they will make my forest their eternal home.”
“Who are you?” I stuttered. With a courtly bow, she answered, “Walpurga.”
“I’m Klara – Klara Muller… and I’m dead – I know it!” I cried.
Deep gold eyes Walpurga possessed as windows to her soul
and at that point I could not read the lady’s thoughts.
She stared at me in a way that was both inoffensive yet strange.
Even with tears streaming and my knees nearly buckling,
Walpurga was serene. “Come child,” Walpurga said as she turned
into the black backdrop of the forest and I followed. “Am I a ghost?”
There Walpurga halted and turning to me said, “You may be a ghost.
When did you die, Klara?” I remember my eyes bulging to the question.
“Earlier tonight,” I mumbled. “Ah! Yes, you smell of fresh death.”
Thinking what Walpurga said was strange, I asked her to elaborate.
Without answering, Walpurga turned into the blackness and again, I followed.
***
The moon glinted through the breaks in the forest canopy,
shedding its milky hue onto a small log cabin.
Whose window’s yellowish glow pulsated.
“Where are we, Walpurga?” My voice trembled.
“My dwellings. You will stay as my guest, tonight.
My child, you will not possibly make it in the forest, tonight.”
I was confused, so I inquired, “Make it? To where, tonight?”
Walpurga explained gravely as we stood outside of her cabin door,
“Deep in this ancient forest stands a castle, Klara.”
Then lifting a finger, Walpurga said, “Some say it holds
many wild secrets – both good and evil. In my forest,
your wildest fantasies will blossom. Beneath the radiance
of the moon, you will be a wild child in moonlight.”
“What do you mean, Walpurga?” A few heartbeats passed
and Walpurga answered, “you will soon find
that you will not be able to bask in sunshine,
nor will you desire what the living do.”
After a short pause, Walpurga continued,
“The only home you have now, Klara, is here.
My forest holds many secrets, yes.
Yet, it is open to embrace wild hearts.”
“So, am I supposed to go to this castle? What can I expect, here?”
“It is possible to trek from my doorway to the castle – but remember this,
and take it as a warning. Like the sea, the further you trek,
the deeper and darker my forest becomes. Creatures become hunters
and harder to see. They quarrel among each other – especially
with those fresh in the grave, like you.”
Upon entering Walpurga’s cabin, dangling spider webs brushed my face.
The air was thick with incense and aromas of all kinds.
So pungent, it awoke my senses in death.
As Walpurga hung the lantern, one of many burning lanterns
and lit candles ornamenting the cabin, I sat myself before the hearth
of a roaring fireplace. I turned to Walpurga and implored,
“But Walpurga, how did you happen to be there to help me out of the woods?”
Walpurga shook her head and answered, “I did not have any premonition
of you being here in my forest, Klara. Whilst I was outside of my cabin earlier,
tending to my grave garden, my wolf senses served me and I heard your voice
and smelled your scent from miles away. So, I was curious.
Those fresh from the grave have a certain scent to them and I tend
to help newcomers to my forest – upon hearing the distant howling
of a certain other wolf, I decided to investigate and do what I could
to help you. I do not condone what evil does in my forest.”
“Oh, Walpurga, what did I witness tonight? What creatures did I see
that almost killed me? And why?” I raised my cold, numb hands to the
orange flames of the fire. Walpurga answered, “So, I heard the howling of two wolves…”
“Yes! Two wolves! And they were huge, Walpurga!” I interrupted.
Responding with a glare at first, Walpurga continued,
“One is an evil wolf – the other a good wolf.”
“The one that charged at me and was hovering over me, snarling,
teeth bared and drooling a cocktail of saliva and blood over my face –
isn’t that the wolf that’s evil, Walpurga?”
Walpurga dipped her head and showed an obvious hesitation to answer,
“I sensed a beacon of evil pulsating from her heart.”
“Her?” I questioned. Walpurga darted her eyes back to me,
“I know the smell of a she-wolf.” I had to interrupt, “this wolf had red fur
and fiery red eyes that looked… well human!” Walpurga knelt beside
me at the hearth, reached for the fire stoker and stabbed the orange coals.
“Enough with the wolves, there will be plenty of encounters for you
until you get to the safety of the castle, Klara.”
“Yeah, tell me about this castle, Walpurga.”
“Well my child, it is essentially a refuge for the dead here in my forest.
I make you a promise now, I will take you there first thing in the morning –
better to go by daylight as the wolves sleep by day and run madly wild by night!”
“Walpurga, I have so many questions!” I exclaimed, adding,
“Is god at this castle? Jesus Christ? Goddesses? What?”
“Creatures of all kinds, Klara.” Walpurga answered,
“You asked me earlier in the wood if you are a ghost and I ignored you.”
Walpurga made a hand washing gesture and continued,
“You are an again-walker.” “An again-walker?” I asked puzzled.
Walpurga cleared here throat and clarified, “one who walks after death.”
“So, a ghost, basically?” “No…” Walpurga abruptly stopped.
“Allow me to tell you, Klara, a story of a man
with whom you share the same vein – this man, named John, who entered my forest,
had died by suicide. He left behind a young, virtuous woman named Helen.
She was left to her loneliness until, that is, John decided not to stay in the Gothic Forest.
Instead, he one night appeared standing over Helen in her bedroom.
Helen was terrified as he made his way into the bed and on top of her –
nearly crushing her body. This happened for three nights, with John
prowling the neighborhoods outside of this forest near his graveyard –
even terrorizing nearby family. So, you see, Klara, since then the count
of the castle mandated that all who enter the Gothic Forest remain for eternity.”
“So…” stopping to clear my throat, I continued, “If I were to leave, which I can’t anyway,
I would be a harm to the living?” “Yes, my child, outside of this forest is purgatory –
like limbo. Within this forest is another dimension not described in any religious text.
“So, what am I, Walpurga?” I raised my voice. Walpurga gazed into my eyes
and said, “Ah! The test for werewolfism! Walpurga rolled up her sleeve
and with the sharp point of her nail, she lacerated a couple inches down
her forearm before she explained, “cut the flesh, part the wound open,
and peer into the wound to find fur!” Walpurga did just that,
and with a gaping laceration in her forearm and streams of blood
dropping onto the floor boards, Walpurga revealed to me
a thick clump of fur within her wound. The intense flame light from the fire
made the deep gold of her eyes glint brightly like yellow flames.
