Dont go into the woods

Rain fell in small silver pools in the bottoms of potholes that lined the city roads, and bejeweled the apartment windows with tiny liquid beads. On her wooden desk, old turpentine-soaked rags and crusted paintbrushes cluttered the space. The room was dim, except for a light that was clamped on her easel, pointed toward an empty canvas. As her paintbrush danced across the canvas, leaving behind thick globs of color, she began to feel disheartened. On this day, she was particularly uninspired by the still life of plastic fruits and glass bottles she had set up on the window sill. Art was the coals that fed the flames in Julianne's soul. Painting was the only thing that made her feel like an accomplished human being. She glanced over at her bookshelf and instantly, one book in particular caught her eye. It was one on how to paint landscapes. She thumbed through the pages until she came across a photo of interest: a picture of a forest. Julianne paused for a second, thinking of a way to approach this new painting. She looked around the room at the stacks of unfinished works. I need a change, she thought, and with her new-found inspiration she packed up her supplies - a bag full of assorted brushes, a few blank canvases, and her easel - and kissed her black and white cat Ash on his nose. She packed her things into the backseat and got into her jeep. By three o' clock pm, the rain had halted, but the gloomy atmosphere still persisted and a thin blanket of mist yet lingered. Julianne drove out of the city past apartment buildings and concrete districts until the surroundings became increasingly suburban, and eventually, wooded. After a half-hour of driving, the State Forest sign appeared ahead and she turned into the parking lot. She stepped out of the vehicle and inhaled, taking in a lungful of the late-October chill. She threw on a jacket over her hoodie, tucked her fold-up easel under her arm and slung her bag of art supplies over her shoulder. There was a fifteen minute walk along the train tracks that ran parallel to the forest's edge to get to the opening where Julianne wanted to enter the woods. As she walked further and further down the path, she noticed how although most of the leaves were gone from the trees, the forest was still thick with thicket and thorn bushes. The forest was beautiful though, and Julianne was happiest when she was in the wilderness, among all things natural. The path twisted and turned around bare trees and fallen logs until she stopped at a stream. She became mesmerized by the crystal water that cascaded over the smooth rocks. A satisfied smile showed across her delicate features as she realized she had found the ultimate spot. Once the canvas was set up on the easel and her paints were out and ready, she lightly sketched the scene first, planning where she would carve the trickling creek through the brown forest on the canvas. She noted exactly where each tree would go, sketching the trunks softly, and where the tiny beams of sunlight would come streaming through the tree branches. It watched her. It monitored her every move. It curiously turned its head from side to side, watching its prey. The creature usually walked on all fours, but as it stalked her, it crouched on it's scrawny hind legs. Its front limbs were curved, serrated scythes like that of a praying mantis. It only stood three feet off the ground, at most. It possessed four large black eyes on the top of its head, arranged like that of a spider's; Four portals of inquisitiveness that stalked with the curiosity of a child, but with the malicious intent of a murderer. The sudden crunch of a branch a few yards away made Julianne turn around and scan the edge of the foliage directly behind her. There was nothing there...nothing that she could see, and so she went back to her artwork. It knew that its prey was becoming aware of its presence in the brush and it knew it had to be cautious if it wanted to have a meal. It began to silently scale a tree, digging its mantis-like limbs into the bark. It crept out onto a tree limb overhanging