Forest of Lost Souls II

[Sukhumvit]

Some ten years had passed. Although he was satisfied with his life he had almost given up on meeting a woman to take as his wife. The realization nagged at him more persistently that there was every probability that his life would remain a lonely one. Thinking more about this every day he realised that he was still a relatively young man. There was still the chance to return to the city. Whilst his parents had accepted his decision to live in the forest they had never ceased to hope that one day he would marry and provide them with grandchildren. He now began to think that perhaps his decision to live a rural life had been a selfish one and maybe he should consider providing the grandchildren that were so desperately wanted.

 

 

One evening during the hot season, after a particularly arduous day collecting firewood, he was sat at his rough desk reading by the light of an oil lamp. He had decided that when his parents next visited he would leave with them and return to Bangkok. He did not know when that would be but he would wait patiently. That would give him the opportunity to mull the decision over in his mind and if in several weeks or months he was still resolved to return then so be it. As he dwelt on such thoughts his concentration was disturbed by shouts from outside in the forest. Probably some of the villagers. Drunk no doubt, he thought. He didn't mind them using his land from time to time but it had begun to grate on his nerves when they disturbed the evening tranquility after too many bottles of cheap beer. The shouting increased in volume. Closer now. Taking a heavy wooden stave he decided to take a look at what they were making such a commotion about.

 

 

From the balcony of his stilt house he descended the bamboo ladder and stood in silence in the shadows at the base of the house. The forest was black. Impenetrable. Although he loved the forest, at night it never ceased to unnerve him if he spent too long looking into its inky depths. Since moving to the country he was amazed at how superstitious the villagers were. Animistic in their beliefs, he had often found cloth or strands of cotton wrapped around a tree branch on his land to either appease the spirit that lived in the tree or to protect from evil pii. At first he dismissed their actions and belief in ghosts as nonsense but for them their beliefs were as real as the grass and the rain. Ghosts were everywhere, almost palpable. He had learnt of the places that the villagers avoided as they claimed that they were haunted by bad spirits. Over time he had found himself avoiding those places as well. Too many times he had heard strange noises at night and was unable to identify their source. Although he was not a strong believer in the afterlife it was wise not to tempt fate.

 

 

In the blackness he spotted the flames of burning pitch dipped torches. What were they up to now? The calls back and forth between the villagers increased. He thought that he could recognise one or two of the voices of the village men. Surely they couldn't all be out there on a drunken rampage? Suddenly, out of the corner of one eye he caught sight of movement. When he turned to look it was gone. He remained still and scanned the trees. There it was again, a fleeting movement just caught by one eye. This time he whirled quickly and caught a bush moving and he thought that he spotted a hand reach up to settle the leaves. He gazed into the depths of the bush and was astonished to see two eyes staring back at him.

 

 

The eyes belonged to a young, beautiful woman. One of the most beautiful women, if not the most beautiful woman, he had ever seen. Her face was set in a serious, frightened mask but nonetheless she was enchanting. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom he could make out her shape. She was crouched on the ground, behind the bush using it to cover herself. Although it was dark he could tell that she not only appeared to be terrified but her limbs were pale and bare. He realised that she was naked. The sounds of the villagers drew closer and she tilted her head to glance behind her. She appeared transfixed. Afraid to go back and afraid to approach Somchai. Without thinking or knowing why he pulled off his own shirt and approached her. As he passed the shirt to her he turned his head away. He waited briefly before holding his hand out to her. She took it and he began leading her to the house. He noticed that her skin was cool and she was shivering despite the fact that it was oppressively warm. He thought to himself that she was shivering out of fear.

 

 

Inside the house, she sat on the floor by the fire. Her knees pulled up tight against her chest and carefully covering herself with the shirt wrapped tightly around her. She eyed him suspiciously. As yet she had not spoken. Neither had Somchai. He smiled at her. The smile was not returned. Even so she was achingly beautiful. He could not take his eyes off her. Breaking his stare he searched around for a cotton sarong which he offered to her. As she wrapped it around herself he heard the noises outside grow louder. She started to rise but he shook his head and motioned to her to remain seated. He did not know what she was doing out in the forest so late and why she had no clothes or indeed why the villagers were out there too. He wondered if they were chasing her in order to rape her or whether she had been frightened by them whilst out bathing. He knew that some of the village women preferred to bathe at dusk in order to preserve their modesty. Still, it was well after dusk and he did not recognise her as one of the village women. Perhaps she was from a distant village but what was she doing in this part of the forest? Even if she were from a distant village why would the local villagers be chasing her? Or were they after her at all? With these questions racing unanswered around his mind he went out onto the balcony and raised the bamboo ladder. As he did so he glanced out to the edge of the clearing in which his house stood. He noticed a faint glimmer of steel. One of the village elders stood there, a machete by his side. He stared at Somchai without the usual smile of recognition. Just as Somchai was about to question him as to what he was doing out there the man slipped back into the forest.

 

 

The calls in the forest continued for some time, as Somchai stood guard despite the discomfort of mosquitoes, until they eventually faded into the distance. When he returned into the house several hours later he saw that the woman no longer sat on the floor by the fire. Instead she lay asleep on his bed.

[Pescator]

Hi Sukhumwit

 

When he returned into the house several hours later he saw that the woman no longer sat on the floor by the fire. Instead she lay asleep on his bed.

 

Now we are getting somewhere

 

Great story. Looking forward to the next chapter

 

cheers

Hua Nguu

[Central Scrutinizer]

Suk,

 

Excellent. Now I am hooked! Looking forward to the next installment. BTW I had an idea about this story when I read the first part as to what it was going to be about. Just a feeling I had. I'll tell you later if I was correct. Very good story so far. I'm enjoying it and want to see more. Thanks for putting it up here Sukhumvit.

 

Cent

[Singhaman]

Loving it, both of them. Keep them coming. Thanks

[Guest]

And? 10 years in the bush and he finally gets a bird home and you make the poor bugger wait. :onfire:

[SiLeakHunt]

You need to live in my nceck of the woods?

Aussies don't appreciate what Wigganers have to burn.................

[Sukhumvit]

He does get to rest his right hand soon. No lezzers though.