by A. J. Sharpe

Dense foliage had devoured the farmhouse; the vines, like wriggling green maggots, had filled its hollow stone carcass with vibrant life. The building was old, hidden in the crook of the hills, safe from the sea breeze buffeting the island on the nearby cliffs. Its stones were ancient—they had seen much and weathered it all. The roof, however, could not say the same, nor the windows, nor the door; weakened by worms and damp, the wood had given up long ago and lay rotting on the clovers carpeting the ground.

In that way, it was like any other abandoned place—untouched and overcome by nature.

The only odd thing about this house were the mushrooms—deep plum in colour, their thin tendrils poked through the leaves smothering the house, small clusters of purple peeping out from amongst the expanse of green.

“Do you recognise these?” Kaija said, crouching down, magnifying glass in hand as she peered at a clump poking from a crack in the front step.

“No,” Callum said, his body hunched over. His gaze was firmly fixed on the map in front of him as he traced their route with his finger, a deep valley forming on his forehead as he frowned.

“We followed the route exactly, Cal,” Kaija said as she stood up. “We’re exactly where we planned to be.”

“But the house is not supposed to be here. I planned this trip, I looked at all the maps,” Callum said, his bushy brows knitted together tightly. “There’s no trace of it on any of them, which is nonsense, because this is clearly a very old structure.”

They both turned back to the farmhouse, whose shadowy windows stared at them vacantly. A shudder ran up Kaija’s spine.

“We are not lost, Cal,” she said firmly. “It is just a detour.” She paused for a moment, feeling a raindrop plop onto her forehead, the water cold against her warm skin. “And it is a shelter from the rain.”

Droplets began to fall faster. Kaija grabbed Callum and tugged him into the dim interior of the farmhouse. Inside, the smell of petrichor consumed the space. Inhaling deeply, Kaija walked further into the gloom, her eyes wandering to the floorboards above their head, patches of grey sky visible through the holes in the planks. She saw a kite fly overhead.

“Much better over here,” Callum grumbled from the far corner, squatting down next to the empty fireplace. “Less holey.”

Kaija moved to join him, stepping carefully over the tangle of grass and vines growing across the cobbled floor, the vegetation threatening to ensnare her feet and send her tumbling to the floor.

She sat down opposite Callum. Settling onto the bumpy ground, she flicked on her torch and moved the beam around the room. “Look!” she said, pointing at the blackened stones of the fireplace. “More mushrooms!” She shuffled closer to the hearth, pulling a small bag from her pocket. “I am going to collect a sample, something to take back home to identify!”

“Is it safe to touch?” Callum said, raising his eyebrow, watching as Kaija plucked a patch from the stone, her sharp nails cutting through the stems. “Are you supposed to touch mysterious mushrooms?”

“I’m not ingesting them,” Kaija replied, gently squishing a mushroom between her fingers before carefully pocketing her prize. “It is saf—” She stopped suddenly, her gaze falling on the doorway. A smile spread across her face as she slowly pointed at the door.

“Rabbit,” she whispered, watching Cal’s grin as he too registered its presence. “Looks fluffy!”

They watched the dark silhouette shuffle further into the room, the small body rustling against the leafy floor. Its movement was jerky.

“Why is it walking strange?” Callum said quietly, “Is it limping?”

Kaija squinted against the gloom. “I can’t tell,” she said, slowly inching the beam of light towards the small creature, illuminating the deep purples of fungi littering the floor, jutting out from the cracks in the stone.

The rabbit continued to stumble towards them, entering the light.

Kaija’s heart hammered in her chest as her eyes registered the dozens of thin purple mushrooms protruding from the creature’s decaying body, the slim stems a sick imitation of fuzzy fur. Its milky white eyes gazed at the duo sightlessly as it stood alert in the spotlight, its ears twitching from side to side, as though waiting for a sound.

“Kaija, wha—” Callum began, but stopped in shock as the rabbit sprang towards him on ragged legs, bits of sinew and muscle peeking through torn flesh and missing fur. Screaming, Kaija shuffled backwards, eyes bulging as she watched the large yellow incisors of the rabbit dig into the soft white skin of Callum’s neck. The boy yelled, frantically thrashing as the rabbit dug its teeth deeper into him, blood blooming from the wound and soaking into his clothes.

Feeling her back hit the wall, Kaija forced herself to stand up, her fingers gripping tightly to the stone, the jagged edges cutting into her palms. With shaky legs, she began to run towards the door, tears blurring her vision as Callum’s agonised shrieks rang in her ears.

She felt, too late, a vine of ivy twist around her ankle. She felt, much too intensely, the side of her head smack against the cold hard stone of the doorstep. She heard, much too loudly, the sound of bone crunching. Her body lolled to the side, her back against the damp ground, her face paling quickly as blood leaked from the side of her head, staining the green around her. She looked up at the grey sky and felt the rain spitting on her. In the distance, she heard Callum’s screams stop suddenly.

Overhead, a kite began to circle.

Originally published: Aberystwyth MA Anthology 2023-Rewilding