Reign of Evil

Which was the point at which Jen had stopped asking questions and was just determined to get through it all.

Suddenly a man wearing a green cloak could be seen walking across the frost-tipped grass toward them. The cloak flowed behind him. Where he walked, the snow melted.

“That’s the Oak King, or Green Man, as some call him.”

He was taller than everyone else in their ensemble. He walked with stately strides, his gaze past them to the center of Stonehenge. Heat radiated from him and she felt herself begin to sweat beneath her heavy jacket as he passed. Then she noticed his skin, which was also green, like a British Isles Caliban. He strode past them and into the center of the circle. The lights speared him, accentuating his green color. Then he dropped his robe. He stood in the frigid air, wearing nothing at all. A twig of something covered his parts, but the rest of him was a muscular, god-like green.

Missy covered her mouth with a hand and whispered, “Now this is something very new.”

The snow around him continued to melt. Jen couldn’t help but appreciate the special effects. Part of her wanted to know how they did it, but another part of her was transfixed by the figure. Though he was about six and a half feet tall and all green, it was his chiseled features that drew her attention. Dating a U.S. Navy SEAL, she was familiar with good bodies, but this man’s contoured muscles were beyond anything she’d ever seen. It was like looking at a statue sculpted by a master.

As her eyes drifted past the twig and down his legs, she saw the ground around him change. Once snow, it was now brown grass. But even as she watched it the dead blades began to change and lift and turn green as if they were really coming alive.

The nature and tone of the scarlet-robed druids’ chanting changed. The words came faster and the tones became deeper. One of the druids separated himself from the others and strode toward the Green Man. The druid’s face was in shadow, but his hand was visible and holding an ancient stone knife. It didn’t seem to have an edge and the tip was rounded, but it was still recognizably a knife. He approached the Green Man and held it up.

The chanting stopped.

Everything was silent except for the whip of wind through the standing stones.

Someone laughed nervously.

The moment drew on long enough that Jen was about to say something when the druid pulled back the knife and then thrust it into the Green Man’s chest. The stone knife penetrated and stuck. The Green Man fell to his knees as the druid returned to the circle.

The chanting resumed once again, this time with a higher tone and an even faster beat. Whatever they were saying, it seemed in earnest. Jen felt energy in the air, something like electricity. One of the lights blew, causing everyone to jump. Jen and Missy screamed, then covered their mouths, exchanging embarrassed glances.

The ground around the Green Man was no longer green. It was no longer brown. The snow and frost began to creep beneath him until all evidence of the momentary spring was removed. Then he fell forward. Even as they watched, his skin turned from green to gray to black, mottling through the spectrums.

Jen found that her hand was still covering her mouth. What she was watching was extraordinary. She’d been to plays both indoors and out-, but this was something beyond what she’d ever seen before. She glanced at Missy and saw fear in her eyes.

“What is it?” Jen whispered.

“This has never happened.”

“You said they change it every time.”

“Yes, but not like this.” She gestured with her right hand. “This is so far above what I saw in the past. It’s gone from quaint to—”

She fell silent as everyone in the gathered ensemble gasped. The once Green Man made his way slowly back to his feet. When he stood, he had the same features and the same chiseled body, but where he’d been green he was now black. Wind swirled around him and began to peel the blackened skin away. Where it was removed, healthy pink human skin was underneath. Soon pieces of skin were swirling like ash until all the black had been removed.

He shook himself like a great beast might after a kill. Then he leveled his gaze on the gathered ensemble. He spoke in a language Jen couldn’t understand. She glanced at Missy for a possible translation but saw her friend’s fear had now been replaced by abject terror. She shook and trembled.

“Artur.”

“Who?”

The chanting had stopped again.

A druid came and gave the man a crown made of simple iron. He placed it on his head, and as he did, fire began to burn in his eyes.

“Arthur? Do you mean like King—”

A hand grasped Jen’s throat from behind just as the hands of the other druids grasped the throats of the rest of the gathered ensemble and Missy beside her. Jen felt a cold breeze pass across her throat, then warmth. She’d been watching Missy the entire time and saw the druid’s knife slash deep into her throat and the blood begin to well. It was a moment before Jen realized the same thing had just been done to her.