I’ve heard these rumors all my life. The agony you are sure to face if you ever find yourself banished to The Whispers. I’ve always mocked them. Disregarded the tales of woe as old wives tales and rambling from cowards who don’t know how definite the slice of a blade is.

Surely banishment cannot be worse than death, for there is no coming back from the latter.

I hold my chin high as I am placed in front of the door that will soon open to my new home. The man who loosens my shackles is praying. I stifle a laugh but cannot contain the smile that breaks out towards his antics. The prayers he mumbled aren’t even for me, but for himself. The man whose only task is to loosen my bonds and open the door outwards. Pathetic.

When my last bond hits the floor I take a step forward. Rolling my now weightless limbs and enjoying my newfound freedom. Now I am not the only one who holds back laughter. The guard to my right chuckling, his head pointed to the floor.

“You dare to laugh at a free man?”

The guard take a break from his enjoyment to look up at. The second our eyes meet he begins chuckling once more “I find you humorous. Relishing in the loss of your old chains but failing to realize that is the last act of mercy you will ever be granted” his laughter increases into a fit. He’s nearly folded over himself now. The only thing I can do is sneer and look away.

The religious man has moved away from us and has take. His position at the door “Ready yeah?” He asks, but I know that no matter my answer the results will be the same.

I am not a coward. I fix my gaze in front of me and give a slight nod “Get me out of here”

The doors in front of me creak open slowly. I blink and shield my eyes, expecting the light of the day to blind me, but I am met with darkness. My hand slowly falls as I take in the site before me.

The doorman has already moved behind me and seems all about ready to push me on my way. I take a step forward, avoiding his rough hands, and find myself at the threshold.

My breathing has quickned and I find myself confused at the murkiness before me. There is a slight wind, almost beckoning, but nothing in the forest moves. It feels as if it’s holding its breath, as I do the same.

I hear footsteps behind me but I find I am glued to my spot. The boisterous guard approaches “Enjoy freedom”

I can’t stop myself from spinning around. A pitiful plea on my lips that I barely manage to contain. The doors creak close behind me, faster than they were opened. I am now alone.

A newfound fear creeps it’s way into me. Useless. Utterly useless. I need to move.

I pat down my chest before moving to my pockets, finding my dagger and chain. My belongings were given back to me during my trek towards banishment. The cocky feeling I had when recieving them once more is now diminished.

I slip the chain around my neck, grasping the locket around is hastily before moving forward. I need to find a body of water if I’m to survive past the week.

It doesn’t take long for me to notice that the only sounds in the forest are my own.

My surroundings never seem to change, but rather grow vast and mysterious. Each tree I pass bares resemblance to the first and each leaf I step on seems to come at exactly the same place. I can’t help but feel I’m going in circles.

Frustrated I stop in my place. Taking a break to rest among one of the identical looking trees. I flick the dagger in my hand anxiously. If only the wolves did travel here. At least then I’d have some fucking dinner.

My knife grazes the tree during my last flick and an idea comes to mind. I push off against its base and turn around to face the tree. They can’t all look the same if they’re marked. I carve the number 1 into my tree then move to the next. I maim the forest until I get to 20. On my twentieth mark I finally hear a noise not made by me.

It seems to come from my left. The last banishment was months ago, this must be an animal. Dinner. I slice an arrow into my 20th tree, pointing in the direction of the noise and I make my way.

The rustling grows louder, it grows chaotic. I begin to hear the crunching of the leaves and movement of the brush all around me. My eyes dart all around, attempting to locate the source to no avail. It seems to be circling. It seems to be smart.

I lower my body into a crouch, my eyes following each kicked up leaf a second after it moves. My right hand grips my dagger harder, pushing it in front of me. My left hand pulls on my locket.

The noise stops. The movement dies as quickly as it began.

I am bewildered. I shout into the void but am greeted with nothing. Where did it go? I pace forward and fall to my knees. Scattering the forest floor around me to find it’s tracks, to find something.

Nothing remains.

I throw myself back up to my feet and begin spinning in a circle. It was here. I heard it. I saw the leaves moving. I am not crazy. “I heard it” I murmur aloud to no one

“Heard what?”

I spin around with such force I’m nearly knocked on my ass. A women stands before me. Clothes tattered, hair matted, eyes gone.

I stagger backward and clutch my chest “N-nothing. I must have been mistaken. I’m, I’m sorry to bother” I continue back slowly, mind racing and searching for escape. She can’t be real.

My back hits a tree and I feel locked to it. She moves forward unperturbed “Bother?” She questions, her hand shaking by her side “I’m sorry?”

I feel a loss of air in my lungs. My dagger falls to the ground as my hands shoot to my throat. I feel myself becoming bug eyed as the eyeless women approaches.

She stands in front of me. Her lips parted slightly. Dried blood caked around her forehead and eye sockets. She reaches her hand out in front of her and I flinch away incredulous. Her hand dodges me completely, falling on the tree trunk instead. “20. Is that what I am? Number twenty?”

I snap my head to her hand to see her fingers tracing the crudely cut 20 carved into the trunk. I become frantic. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. I am mute.

“What a shame.” The woman continues. Her hand falling from the tree. Despite her loss of vision I know she’s staring directly at me. I look anywhere else but forward.

“Look at me” she commands with a voice too powerful to be contained by her frail body. I close my eyes instead and begin to whimper, shaking m y head back and forth. Her fingers grasp the locket dangling from my neck and I hear the device click open. “Look. At. Me”

Against my will I feel my eyelids becoming peeled open, despite my squirming body and pitiful squeals. The locket has been placed directly in front of my eyes and I can’t help but do as she asks.

I see the woman in the locket, and there is no denying the beauty and life I took from her, or the life she is rightful to now take from me.