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The Dead Forest

  Tom Raimbault

  Copyright © Tom Raimbault 2016

  License Notes:

  Copyright © Tom Raimbault 2016

  All rights reserved! No part of this book may be reproduced, in any form or by any means, without permission from the author!

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Disclaimer:

  This work is 100% fiction. All scenes and events within these pages have been an invention of the author's imagination, and to his knowledge never occurred in reality. Any resemblance to the reader's own experiences is purely coincidental. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  The Dead Forest

  People call it the "dead forest". Literally nothing more than a forest of towering, dead trees; really the forest preserve district should burn it all down. It's a section of some several hundred or more acres that can be accessed by an adjacent forest preserve that is separated by a shipping canal. Well, actually if you visit the adjacent forest preserve, you would need to cross the parking lot and connect to the sidewalk which runs along the highway bridge that extends across the shipping canal. If lucky, you might see a barge plowing through the water. And when finally reaching the other side, one accesses an obsolete forest preserve that has been taken out of commission for some years. The parking lot always has the "Closed" sign cable stretched across to prevent motorists from entering. Weeds grow through the cracked asphalt parking lot. And if brave enough to continue, one immediately finds him or herself in a place that locals call "the dead forest".

  It wasn't always called this. If you look at the old, warped sign you can see that it reads Berry Bush Forest Preserve. There actually are raspberry bushes that grow throughout this now untamed forest preserve. That's how it got its name.

  "But what about the trees?”—you might ask? "How did they all die?"

  It was a fungus attack that took a little over two years to completely destroy all the trees in the forest. It spread like wildfire, and rotted the outside bark of all the poor trees. As for the fungus; apparently it was unable to spread itself across the wide shipping canal which protected the adjacent forest preserve. But as for the "dead forest", all that remains are towering skeletal trunks with large offshoot branches. It's an eerie place to visit in late autumn and throughout winter.

  Now I'm going to contradict what I said above and add that summertime proves the "dead forest" to be anything but dead. Visitors who sneak past the "Closed" sign and hike the forest marvel at how the trees never actually died. What do I mean? Well, you see, like most trees in nature; many of the trees in the "dead forest" exhibit a drive to continue living and surviving to be beautiful, towering trees with lush, green leaves. Small offshoot branches began to grow out from what little life the trees had. These branches actually turned into long vines which extended hundreds of feet and wrapped all the way around the trees. The surrounding vegetation on the ground took advantage of the nearby trees and grew long vines upwards. The end result; the trees looks healthy and green with long, vine-like branches and leaves that rustle in the wind. And all the trees throughout the "dead forest" do this. It's a green forest of gnarly, old trees that continue to live beyond death. It gives new meaning to the nickname "dead forest".

  The "dead forest" certainly wasn't like this many decades ago, around the time that Donna was alive.

  "Who is Donna?"—you might ask? "And what could she possibly have to do with this fascinating "dead forest"?

  You will soon find out her connection to the forest in this story. But Donna was an amazing, young woman who was born in the mid-1950s—one of the first in her family born on American soil. Donna and her family were Spanish, not to be confused with Latin American—at least that's how ignorant Americans in the old days perceived Spaniards. It was often believed that since Spaniards and Latin Americans both speak Spanish, they should be considered one and the same.

  But enough of all of that. Just understand that Donna and her family lived in a time when they were considered "Spanish"—the bull fighting people with all of their conquering splendor and pride. As for Donna, she certainly possessed the stereotypical Spanish appearance of long, raven black hair with dark Spanish eyed. But it was completed with fair skin. She was a pretty girl, to say the least, even at a very young age. When looking upon the child, one would immediately realize that Donna would grow up to be a very beautiful, young woman.

  But it wasn't just her beauty that made Donna so outstanding. Donna reflected a certain wisdom and maturity that went many years beyond her age. This may have been attributed to her peculiar devotion to the Catholic faith. She spent many hours in the church, kneeling and praying before the numerous statues of the Blessed Mother and saints. At eight years old, she felt their constant presence and guidance. Keep in mind that this was in the days before the reformation of the Roman Catholic Church, a time when the entire mass was spoken in Latin and very few people actually understood what was being said. However, through Catechism, the nuns revealed to Donna all the doctrines of the Catholic faith, and countless prayers to be said. And like mentioned above, Donna often wanted nothing more than to spend hours in the church to say the Rosary, and kneel before one saint or another to pray. Yes, there was something outstanding about her. Mother and Father eventually assumed that she would grow up to be a nun.

  Donna disproved this notion by the time she reached high school age. Many of the boys were crazy about Donna. And Donna seemed to enjoy every bit of it.

  "But, Donna..." cited Father one afternoon, upon realizing that he would have to protect his daughter from countless boys who might fall head-over-heels for her, "Don't you want to grow up to be a nun? All that time you spend in the church?"

  "What?" challenged Donna. "When did I ever say anything about becoming a nun? I just like to pray, that's all. I want to get married some day and have a family."

  Not that there's anything wrong with becoming a nun or—in the case of a young man—a priest, but Mother and Father felt a sense of relief with this.

  ***

  Too bad Donna's parents were unable to protect their daughter against her future boyfriend, Stan. The home that Stan lived in had the town's cemetery just behind their backyard. A look out one of the back bedrooms would reveal the numerous gravestones, cement crucifixes and statues. And the only thing separating their backyard from the cemetery was a chain link fence. Now there are those who might believe that most people would have a problem with purchasing and living in a home near a cemetery. But this isn’t' the case. Surprisingly, most people agree that a cemetery off the backyard is a beautiful sight. It's peaceful and tranquil. And most people are sensible to realize that the dead don't hang around their graves. Are you, the reader, going to hang around your grave when you die?

  But back to Stan. For the most part, Stan was a normal boy while growing up. But he developed some peculiar sexual perversions around the age of puberty. Remember, this was a time when people maintained a sense of decency. Sex was a big no-no back in those days. So when Stan developed those natural urges around early puberty, he buried them in the dark corners of his mind—hid them from parents, teachers, priests and the likes who would have scolded and punished Stan for thinking such things. And he wouldn't dare disclose his fantasies to his ever-dwindling group friends who we
re already noticing something odd about Stan. Someone might have told on him.

  Then came a late summer in 1959 when a young woman named Lisa had been tragically killed in a car crash in town. At fourteen years old, Stan watched from his bedroom window as countless family and friends of Lisa assembled around her gravesite for one final goodbye. The gravesite could be seen directly from Stan's window. For some time after, Stan remained at the bedroom window and watched as mourners departed, soon to be replaced by gravediggers who lowered the casket of Lisa into the ground. It was then that Stan received the first morbid fetish of his life. He realized in that moment that a freshly-dead woman would possess a body with flesh that was still intact. Her face and hair remain pretty with eyes closed as-if only sleeping... sleeping forever, as if never to wake up. How easy it might be to unearth the casket of a freshly-dead woman and enjoy those forbidden treasure that would otherwise never have been had. But this state of beauty would only be temporary. It would be a race against the clock for sure. A dead woman doesn't hold forever. Soon her body begins to decompose.

  To fuel this morbid fetish all the more, Stan discovered a couple of mornings later the front page of the local newspaper laying on the kitchen counter which had a picture of Lisa and the sad story of how mourners buried her. From what Stan could see in the black and white image, Lisa was definitely pretty. And now she was buried right behind his backyard. He could simply climb over the chain link fence to be with her at night.

  And so this is what Stand did late that night upon waking up with sexually-driven morbid thoughts in his head. He lay there in bed with a strong urge to go outside and just lay on her fresh grave. Everyone in the house was sleeping, so they would never know if he sneaked outside and hopped the fence over to Lisa's grave. And the same could be said of the rest of the world.

  It was simply a matter of slowly turning the knob to the back door and carefully stepping outside. Stan scurried over to the side perimeter of the backyard to reduce the chance of Mother or Father seeing him if they happened to look out the back window.

  Finally, when at the chain link fence that separated the backyard from the cemetery, Stan slowly climbed up and over as if not to make any noise. From that point there was no turning back. Trembling with excitement, Stan ran over to Lisa's grave and sat down right on top of her.

  She was dead, and would never be able to call out for help. Stan could do anything he wished to her without fear of being judged for his perverted nature. He stuck his fingers through the ground and imagined that it was Lisa's vagina that was being intruded upon.

  Down below, Lisa lay in her coffin and silently screamed. Perhaps her jaw had fallen open in that very moment in an attempt to scream. But everyone knows that the dead can't cry out. They can only endure the defilement of their lifeless bodies.

  Then, Stan did the most awful thing! Father, teachers and nuns all warned him to never do this. But in the few years of suppressing his sexual urges, Stan was compelled to masturbate, and began doing so by rubbing himself against Lisa' marble headstone. It felt so good to make a pretty young woman provide oral sex. She probably hated it, but could say nothing. Finally, Stan drilled and widened the hole in the ground with fingers, further widening Lisa's vagina. When wide enough, he lay on his belly and finished the act of defilement by fornicating Lisa until he released every bit of sexual frustration he had.

  It was a very naughty thing for a boy that age to do. Had the police discovered him doing it, Stan would have probably gone to jail for molesting the dead. Had Father discovered him doing it, his ass would have been beaten with a belt until it bled. And if the Church ever discovered him doing it, Stan would have been excommunicated forever.

  ***

  Sixteen-years-old and in high school, Stan had only a few friends. You see, there was something peculiar about Stan. Many of the kids would tease him and often alienate him. But that was okay. It provided Stan the much-needed opportunity to live out his morbid sexual fantasies all the more.

  “How did he do this?”—you might ask?

  Well, by his sophomore year, Stan was licensed to drive. He had a job at the local dime store where he worked on weekdays (after school) and on weekends. There he did small duties such as stocking shelves and working the cash register. Free from his parents with a car during this time (he used Mother's 1960 Dart to get to work), Stan took advantage of this time by momentarily sneaking away after work to the forest preserve to play out one of his morbid and perverted games.

  But how did he do this? And what sort of morbid and perverted game did he play?

  Well, Stan had a kid sister, Sherry, who—at the time—was ten years old. Sherry had a collection of toy dolls. So evil and sinister of Stan; he actually stole one of his kid sister's dolls and hid it in the trunk of the car along with a small, unused tool box that he found in the basement. He also brought with a hand shovel. He did this before going to work on a Tuesday afternoon. Then, after store close and time to go home, Stan instead drove out to the Berry Bush Forest Preserve which was only about five minutes out of his way. In the parking lot, he retrieved his sister's doll and the small metal box along with the hand shovel. He jogged down a path which led him out to the middle of the forest. From there, he found a gnarly, old tree which was perfect to bury the freshly dead corpse of an unfortunate woman. It just so happened that she was easy to carry and lock up in a small metal tool box. Pressed for time, Stan frantically dug a small hole near the tree and then set the toolbox at the bottom, after which the hole was filled back up with dirt. To make the fantasy all the more real, Stan placed a nearby large stone at the head of the burial. Now, finally, he had a dead woman at a grave that he could have sex with whenever he wanted.

  Stan was pressed for time, however. Mother and Father were surely at home and noticing that he was running late. With small shovel in hand, Stan jogged back to the car and head home.

  Upon arriving home, Mother and Father seemed clueless as to what happened.

  Later that night, Stan awoke around 2:00am and suddenly experienced a surge of excitement upon realizing that he had a dead woman in the ground of the Berry Bush Forest Preserve. How he wished he could just hop in Mother's car and drive there to unearth his toy and ultimately live out his morbid fetish. But it would have to wait. Stan would have to wait until Thursday when he worked at the dime store and would have another opportunity to sneak away in Mother's car.

  ***

  Late Thursday afternoon, around 5:30, Stan quickly stocked the shelves with the remaining merchandise that had just been received earlier that day. At the cash register, the store owner had a small line of customers who he rang up.

  "Thank you very much and have a great evening... Oh, that's a fine product that will make your hair look so shiny... Yes, we try to make sure that batteries are the lowest priced in town..."

  Finally finished, Stan wheeled the cart of empty boxes out to the back dumpster and quickly broke them down before tossing them in. He shook with excitement. He needed to leave for the evening, and it was a race against time

  "You all done, boy?" the owner, Mr. Green, asked Stan.

  "Yes sir."

  "Now tomorrow will be payday." reminded Mr. Green. "And make sure you will be here on time to start work, okay? You'll probably be working the cash register for me."

  "Yes sir." agreed Stan. He could have cared less at that moment. Stan just wanted to finally leave for the evening so he could get to the Berry Bush Forest Preserve. He nearly ran out the back entrance of the dime store and over to his mother's car. He almost backed into the dumpster when pulling out of the parking spot.

  "Hey, watch out!" warned Mr. Green who happened to look outside the back entrance.

  "Sorry!" apologized Stan.

  He pulled out onto the road and head to Berry Bush Forest Preserve. And of course he had the hand shovel hidden in the trunk. On this particular late afternoon which was turning into early evening, Stan would be unearthing a fresh corpse and making love
to it.

  There was something about that particular session that Stan attributed to his imagination. While finally pulling into the parking lot of the Forest Preserve, Stan felt as though someone had followed him and was watching. Was it the police? Was it Mr. Green who found Stan's behavior of rushing out of the store peculiar? Or did Father decide to check up on Stan to see if he sneaked away after work to do some cruising in Mother's Dart?

  Stan carefully looked around the empty forest preserve parking lot before finally exiting. He opened the trunk and removed the handheld shovel. Then he ran as quickly as he could to the burial site of his fresh corpse.

  Stan dug and unearthed the metal tool box. When opened, there lay a terrified-appearing doll. Maybe dolls have a hidden life and consciousness that is given at the factory. If this is true, perhaps she worried that she would be buried in the ground forever.

  Stan sensed the awareness and fear from the doll. In his perception Stan believed that he experienced for the first time a raising of the dead. Through the power of imagination and some unknown magickal forces, Stan's freshly buried corpse had stirred awake from eternal slumber to meet the one who would ultimately defile it.

  "The dead cannot scream out for help. No one will hear you." reminded Stan to the doll. He said this while enjoying every second of removing the dolls burial dress. Underneath the clothes the bare thighs, buttocks and breasts were still intact. The process of decomposing had yet to begin.

  "Oh yes..." exclaimed Stan as his heart raced with excitement. In that moment, Stan did a naughty thing to that doll while fulfilling his wildest morbid sexual urges. When finished, he initially wasn't going to clean up the doll. He was simply going to leave his mess all over her naked body. But then Stan "awoke" from his fantasy and realized that the corpse wasn't really a corpse. It was simply a toy doll which had helped him to live out his morbid fetishes. When those morbid fetishes resumed, Stan could return to the forest preserve and unearth the doll for more pleasure. For that matter, Stan used his sock to wipe and clean the mess from the doll. He redressed the doll, lay it back into the metal tool box and observed in delight as she continued to exhibit a terrified expression.