Chapter 693

The midday heat bore down on Riyadh's outskirts, even in the supposed coolness of late autumn. Hassan felt the familiar dryness prickle at his skin as he adjusted his thawb, the white fabric offering little respite from the persistent sun.

At 58, he'd lived through countless summers in the Arabian Peninsula, but the heat never truly became a friend. He preferred the evenings, when the air cooled and the stars blazed in the inky sky, vast and indifferent.

He was a quiet man, content with his life in his modest home, his days filled with the gentle rhythms of family and community. His work as a cartographer had long been behind him, retirement a welcome embrace.

Now, his time was his own, spent tending his small garden, reading, and enjoying the company of his wife, Maysoon, and his daughter, Noura.

The news began subtly, whispers at first, anomalies dismissed as exaggerations, or fabrications designed to sow discord.

Reports of strange occurrences in remote forests – hikers vanishing without a trace, logging camps razed to splinters overnight, entire settlements on the edges of sprawling woodlands inexplicably deserted.

These were the stories relegated to the fringes of news broadcasts, tucked away in online forums, the kind of narratives Hassan usually scrolled past without a second thought.

Then came the videos. Grainy, shaky footage captured on phones and dashcams, initially surfacing from North America and Europe, places Hassan had only seen on maps.

They showed figures emerging from forests, not animals, not men, but something else entirely. Twisted shapes of wood and leaf, animated with a jerky, unnatural motion, eyes glowing with an eerie luminescence.

They moved with terrifying speed and purpose, and where they went, destruction followed.

Initially, the reactions were a mixture of disbelief and morbid fascination. Were they elaborate hoaxes? Viral marketing campaigns?

But the reports grew, more frequent, more detailed, corroborated by multiple sources. The entities, as they were quickly dubbed, were real, and they were spreading.

One evening, as Hassan sat with Maysoon on their patio, the scent of jasmine heavy in the warm night air, the news anchor on their small television set delivered the update in a tone devoid of its usual professional detachment.

"…incidents are no longer isolated. They are occurring with increasing frequency and proximity to populated areas. Major cities are now on high alert. We urge citizens to remain calm, stay indoors, and await further instructions from authorities…"

Maysoon's hand tightened around Hassan's. Her eyes, usually bright and filled with warmth, were clouded with a nascent fear. "What is happening, Hassan? What are these… things?"

Hassan, though shaken, tried to project an aura of composure. "It's alright, Maysoon. It's probably just mass hysteria. Some sort of… environmental protest gone too far." He knew his words sounded hollow, even to his own ears. The images he'd seen online were far beyond any human protest.

The following days were a blur of escalating panic. Social media was alight with terrifying accounts and shaky videos, each more disturbing than the last.

The entities had names now, whispered in fearful tones: 'Forest Kindred', 'Wood Wraiths', 'Green Terrors'. No one knew what they were, where they came from, or what they wanted. But everyone knew what they did. They destroyed.

The first incident in the Middle East was reported in Lebanon, then Syria, countries with pockets of woodland.

Then, terrifyingly, reports began to filter in from the mountainous regions of Saudi Arabia, not far from Riyadh itself. Hassan felt a cold dread creep into his bones, a primal fear he hadn't experienced since childhood stories of desert djinn.

One morning, the call came. Noura, their daughter, lived in a small apartment complex closer to the city center. Her voice was frantic, barely controlled. "Baba! They are here! I saw one… just outside my building. People are running, screaming… what do I do?"

Hassan's heart hammered against his ribs. "Noura, listen to me. Stay inside. Lock your doors. Don't go outside for any reason. Maysoon and I are coming to you. We will get you." He ended the call, his hands trembling.

Maysoon was already gathering supplies – water, non-perishable food, a first-aid kit. Her face was pale, but her movements were efficient, betraying a resolve Hassan admired. "We have to go now," she said, her voice firm despite the fear in her eyes.

They piled into their aging sedan, Hassan behind the wheel, his hands gripping it tightly. The streets were eerily deserted, a stark contrast to the usual bustling city life.

A strange silence hung in the air, broken only by the distant wail of sirens. As they drove, they saw the first signs of chaos – abandoned cars blocking roads, overturned market stalls, scattered debris.

As they neared Noura's apartment complex, the atmosphere became palpably thicker, charged with an unseen tension. Then they saw it. Standing in the middle of the street, amidst abandoned vehicles, was one of them.

It was taller than any man, easily eight or nine feet, constructed of gnarled branches and interwoven vines, leaves clinging to its form like grotesque flesh.

Its head was a mass of tangled wood, with two points of burning emerald light for eyes. It stood motionless for a moment, then its head turned, those glowing eyes fixing on their car.

A low growl emanated from it, a sound that seemed to vibrate in the very air around them, not of animal origin, but something ancient and malevolent. Then it moved.

With astonishing speed, it lunged, branches cracking and leaves rustling like dry whispers. Hassan slammed the accelerator, swerving the car violently to avoid it. The entity's hand, a claw of sharpened wood, scraped against the side of the car with a sickening screech of metal.

He didn't stop, didn't dare to. He drove recklessly, weaving through abandoned vehicles, ignoring traffic signals, his only focus on reaching Noura. He glanced in the rearview mirror, but the entity was no longer behind them. Had they lost it?

They reached Noura's building, a mid-rise apartment block that now seemed deserted. He parked haphazardly in front, ignoring the scraping sound as the car mounted the curb. "Stay here," he told Maysoon, his voice rough. "I'll go get Noura."

"No, Hassan, we go together," Maysoon insisted, her voice unwavering. He knew arguing was pointless. They moved as one, exiting the car, their senses on high alert. The silence here was oppressive, broken only by the sound of their own breathing and the distant sirens, which seemed to be growing fainter.

The lobby of the apartment building was empty, eerily so. A single overturned potted plant lay on the floor, soil scattered across the tiles.

The air hung heavy with a strange, earthy smell, like damp soil and decaying leaves. They took the stairs, opting against the potentially trapped elevator, climbing quickly to Noura's floor, the fourth.

Her apartment door was slightly ajar, a sliver of darkness visible within. "Noura?" Hassan called out, his voice barely a whisper. No response. He pushed the door open wider, stepping inside, Maysoon right behind him.

The apartment was in disarray, furniture overturned, belongings scattered. But it was empty. "Noura!" Maysoon called, her voice laced with panic. They searched each room, their hearts pounding in their chests, but Noura was nowhere to be found.

Then, they heard it. A low, guttural moan coming from the balcony. They rushed towards the sliding glass door, pushing it open.

And there, on the balcony, bathed in the harsh sunlight, was Noura. But not as they knew her.

She was… changed. Her skin was no longer human in color, but a sickly green, tinged with brown. Vines snaked across her arms and legs, intertwining with her clothes. Leaves sprouted from her hair, and her eyes… her eyes glowed with the same eerie emerald light as the entity they had encountered in the street.

She turned her head slowly, her glowing eyes fixing on them, and a sound escaped her lips, a distorted, rasping noise that was no longer human speech. It was the same growl, the same inhuman vibration they had heard before.

"Noura…?" Maysoon whispered, reaching out a trembling hand.

The creature that was once Noura lurched forward, its movements jerky and unnatural. Its hand, now a twisted mass of twigs and thorns, reached for Maysoon. Hassan reacted instinctively, pulling Maysoon back, shielding her with his body.

The creature lunged, its wooden claws raking across Hassan's arm, tearing through his thawb and skin, drawing blood. He cried out in pain, stumbling backward. Maysoon screamed, pushing him behind her, stepping forward to face the monstrous version of their daughter.

"Noura, it's me! It's Mama! Do you remember me?" Maysoon's voice was thick with tears, filled with a desperate hope that defied all logic.

The creature paused, its glowing eyes flickering for a moment, as if something flickered within the monstrous form, a ghost of recognition, a fleeting spark of humanity struggling to break through. Then, the glow intensified, burning brighter, and the guttural growl deepened, becoming more menacing.

It lunged again, faster this time, its wooden limbs moving with terrifying speed. Maysoon stood her ground, her face a mask of anguish and resolve. Hassan, still reeling from the pain in his arm, could only watch in horror as the creature attacked.

He saw the flash of wooden claws, the spray of blood, Maysoon's scream cut short. He stumbled forward, his mind reeling, his world dissolving into chaos and pain.

He saw Maysoon fall, her eyes wide with shock and betrayal, the life draining from them as the creature stood over her, its wooden form dripping with her blood. Then, it turned its glowing gaze to Hassan, and he knew, with chilling certainty, that he was next.

He felt a surge of despair, a crushing wave of grief that threatened to overwhelm him. His wife, his daughter, both gone, taken by this nightmare. He had nothing left to live for.

But then, something shifted within him. Not anger, not rage, but a profound, desolate sadness, a grief so deep it bordered on numbness.

He looked at the creature, at the grotesque parody of his daughter, and he felt… pity. Pity for Noura, trapped within this monstrous form, pity for Maysoon, her life extinguished so brutally, pity for himself, left alone in a world gone mad.

He didn't run, didn't fight back. He simply stood there, facing the creature, his gaze steady, devoid of fear, filled only with an overwhelming, desolate sadness. He closed his eyes, waiting for the end, waiting to join Maysoon and what was left of Noura in whatever lay beyond.

But the attack didn't come. He waited, seconds stretching into an eternity, the only sound the rustling of leaves on the creature's form and his own ragged breathing. He opened his eyes slowly, hesitantly.

The creature was still there, standing motionless, its glowing eyes fixed on him. But its posture had changed. The menace was gone, replaced by something… else. A stillness, a quietude, an almost… melancholy presence.

It stood there for a long moment, then, slowly, deliberately, it turned away. It moved towards the balcony railing, climbed over it with unnatural grace, and disappeared from sight, melting into the chaotic cityscape below.

Hassan stood there, alone on the balcony, amidst the wreckage of his life, the setting sun casting long shadows across the ravaged apartment. Maysoon lay still on the floor, her lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Noura was gone, lost, transformed into something alien and terrifying.

He was left alone, utterly alone, in a world irrevocably changed, a world where forests walked and families were torn apart by forces beyond comprehension. He had survived, but at what cost?

His life was shattered, his heart broken, his future a bleak and empty expanse. He was a survivor, yes, but his survival was a solitary confinement in a prison of grief, a life sentence of loss and despair, with only the haunting memory of his loved ones and the eerie glow of those emerald eyes to keep him company in the long, desolate years to come.

The sun dipped below the horizon, plunging the world into darkness, leaving Hassan standing there, a solitary figure silhouetted against the fading light, swallowed by the encroaching shadows, utterly and devastatingly alone.