This Is Some B&S

Alright, two consecutive weeks. I can do this. Probably. This week we have a very special sponsor: The vast, inconceivable reaches of the multiverse. NNUNPILN PIYBYUNPSXBOU YBPUN PXBUNON PNPCUIUNPAX UPAUNXIUBNP PIUNAXO IUAXBIUNPX PUNUB UBUBXNUUPB HYPJB YWIHXO IIA!!!



The child led us for what felt like hours, though there was no change in the quality of the light in the dismal, muculent shade of the deep jungle. After a time the boy stopped and waited for the whole of our party to gather to him. When we had all assembled he looked to each of us in turn and, being very slow and precise in his movements that we not misinterpret, he put his finger to his lips, then pointed first to the sky then to the ground. Then he put both of his hands to his heart and closed his eyes with a look of pained longing I did not imagine such a young face to be capable of. He opened his eyes, now wet with tears, and once again bid us quiet. Patrick and I looked to our companions and did our best to reinforce the seriousness of the boy's warning  before nodding and encouraging him to lead on.

The entire atmosphere of the forest curdled as we pressed on. Cramped trails through a crushing monotony of green gave way to broad thoroughfares of immense alabaster trees carved to show the face of some twisted nightmare howling in rage or pain and seeping a fetid black sap. One of our party stifled a scream only to faint staring into the eyes of one of the nearby totems. I looked upon it and saw what had upset my compatriot. The wood of the tree was pink, as the letters had declared, but it was the pink of bloodless flesh and the tar that issued from it seemed to still be climbing toward the canopy, as though even gravity held no sway over it. Worse still was the soft howling filling the copse despite the wretched stillness that filled it. As though the trees needed no wind to moan here.

We collected our fallen ally and steeled ourselves for what must await us beyond the clearing. Our young guide waited for us to rally before setting off at a brisk pace. The wailing of the wood changed tones disconcertingly as we passed through it, starting as a low groan and building to an atonal cry before dropping to an eerie high hum. As we trudged on a powerful dread grew in my heart and I swear I heard teeth gnashing behind those horrid faces. We were fortunate that the path was short and the village was near, as after a few minutes of determined marching we passed through a dense thicket of brush and into the settlement beyond.