HOME | DD

Description

The legend traces back to a little town out in the middle of nowhere. One's whose name would mean nothing to anyone who didn't live within thirty miles of it. In truth, most would probably have never learned of its existence had it not been for the incident. It would have been just like the thousands of other rundown towns and villages scattered across the world, had it not been the hell that awoke beneath its feet. Who could have imagined the day? When smoke billows from the earth itself, and the ground yawns open into fiery maws? The land your family has lived on for generations, now teetering above an eternal inferno. At this point, the whole world knows. They know the name of this forgotten town and the hell it now sits upon. We know it is a coal fire that was lit up from some accident and now has the fuel to blaze for centuries. But in the beginning, we didn't know, and they didn't know as well.

It is a scenario meant only for horror stories, so why would anyone expect it to be real? Who in this simple little town would have ever thought something so infernal could be happening to them? The smoke is probably from someone burning trash, and the quivers and quakes of the earth caused by the old mines. Simple explanation to everything, really. You don't dare think something so extreme until the ground gives way and entire homes plunge into the burning jaws of hell itself. But before these dramatic things happened, the incidents went by without notice. They were so small that they were ignored during the ceremonies of every day life. There was one thing, however, that couldn't be ignored: those who never came home. The beloved family dog that ran out into the woods as they always done, but never returned. The playful child skipping school to goof off, but nowhere to be seen once supper was ready. The old farmer going to his fields to tend the crops, but the tractor sits empty and cold. People and pets started to disappear, and no one knew why. It is easy now to see that they were swallowed up by the earth, making the one wrong step to send them hurtling into the heart of the flames. But at the time, no one could know. The holes collapsed in on themselves, burying their secret in unmarked graves. In a time of runaway children, unseen criminals and drunken affairs, everyone suspected something else when dad didn't come home or the dog didn't come running at the whistle. All they could do was suspect, without ever knowing the truth. And as those days went by in continued absence, they turned to the one trick they could think of.

Like leaves falling in autumn, the town soon began to find itself covered in a growing mass of missing posters. From scraggly pages scribbled in crayon begging for a beloved cat to come home, to finely printed sheets of ink spread by a weeping partner. The bulletin boards and posts started with only one or two, but soon grew clogged as more grieving families added to the pile. The whole town was caked in them, soon developing layers as fresh ones were hung to replace those that were buried beneath the grief. One notable spot, was the tree that sat in the heart of the town. There was nothing really special about it, save for it being a tree that was placed right in the middle of it all. Since so many people walked past it, why not nail your poster there? That was what many thought as they spread the word of their missing loved ones. They posted more and more to its trunk and branches, until these pages grew more than its leaves. With so many posters and no answers, some would think that the exercise was futile, but the townsfolk soon found a new purpose. The growing pages upon its branches were no longer calls for help, but memorials to the missing. The tree went from a bulletin board to a shrine, where mourners went to share their grief with others, knowing that they weren't alone. It was a ceremony of pain and comfort, to accept that a loved one would never return, but to know that there were others there for you. Who knows how long this went on, but we know it came to an end. At last, the truth tore itself open, as the fires grew hotter and the earth more violent. The land began to buckle and quake, and the hungering jaws began to devour chunks of the town. At that point, the survivors were evacuated and homes left empty. Firefighters and construction groups tried to stop the flames, but the effort was futile. In the end, the town was abandoned to the flames, as well as the memories of those who were lost.

While the stories of the burning town were quite popular for some time, interest began to dwindle as the years went on. The town was empty and the area sealed off. Though some would jump the fences and tape to explore that land devoured by flame, there wasn't much to see or steal. It was just like any other ghost town, save for the hell that sat below. Though it has faded to just a curiosity, there is one story that is stilled whispered and spread. It is not one of fact or history, but one of legend and superstition. A tale of the tree that sits in the very heart of this forsaken land, surrounded by flaming pits and forgotten misery. Some say that the tree still stands tall, that no fire or splitting earth has consumed it. No errant ember has lit its many posters, they still remain on its tangle of branches. In fact, they say it cannot be destroyed, that the tree will not allow its own demise. As the story tells it, the covering of missing posters and the crowds of mourners have soaked this twisted plant in misery and pain. All the loss and suffering has seeped into its very core, causing a sort of spirit to be born within. They say that it is now an entity fueled by those who have lost and those who yearn for closure. This being remains in this town, unyielding to the flames, because it has to remember. It needs to preserve the names of those who have been lost, so that they are not truly forgotten.

Alas, that is not the end of the tale. The tree is not just an eternal shrine to the dead, as some believe it is capable of serving the living. A tale was once told of a survivor of the town who lost another of their family. Who they lost differs from story to story, a child vanishing in the night or an elder who tried to return to their burning home due to a foggy mind. Regardless, they were visited by loss once again, and knew not the fate of their loved one. Driven by grief and in need of comfort, they trekked back to their forsaken homeland and braved its volatile nature. They navigated the churning inferno to find that one tree and added one last poster to its branches. With this simple ceremony done, they returned home and continued to grieve. A few nights later, their loved one returned to them, showing up at their doorstep in the dead of night. Some would say that they had been lost the entire time and finally found their way back home, while others call it a miracle. The legend claims, though, that this was no random act of god. They say that the lost soul came home with no recollection of how they got there, that they somehow returned without knowing it. There are many ways to interpret it, but it is said that something had taken them home. A gnarled angel, with wings of fluttering pages.

How true this story is, no one can really say, but there are many who have latched onto it. The legend has grown into a belief, that nailing a poster of one who is missing to this sacred tree will bring them back home. It seems a bit silly, but those who have lost with no answers may seek anything to help their haunted minds. However, this feat is not an easy one. The fires rage on still, and the land grows more unstable and volatile. While this legend is said to bring comfort and hope, it has instead brought death and pain to others. Mourning souls who delved into its lands, only to be consumed by its flames, becoming one with the missing. For those who have already suffered, they cannot bear to lose another, so there are many who refuse to entertain such naive legends. Why chase fairy tales if they lead to hell? But there are those who claim that the legends are true, that the tree can retrieve those who are lost. Some who say that they have made it to the tree and added their pain to the masses. Braving the lands has caused their missing to return, brought home by this merciful spirit. Such claims have jumped from many tongues, so there is no telling what is true. Missing people can simply show up sometimes, that cannot be denied. But perhaps some darker turns are not so easily explained. Dive deeper into these stories, and you may find that the tree never fails in its mission. If one adds a soul to its branches, it shall return them, no matter what. It is meant to grant closure and give answers to questions that haunt suffering minds. There are some answers, however, that are harder to swallow than others. What comfort can be gained, when you open your door and find a pile of dirty garbage bags at your feet?

--------------------------------------------------------------

Aaaaaand I am back! Funny how I keep taking time off during the one month where monsters are all the rage. But lets try to squeeze some in before the time is up!

What is Halloween without a spooky tree? Lets post one that has been stuck in my mind for I kid you not probably a decade before I finally got the right energy and mood to draw it. This Tree of the Lost has been on my to-draw list for ages, literally sitting at the top! Just goes to show how fast things work around here.

Description

The legend traces back to a little town out in the middle of nowhere. One's whose name would mean nothing to anyone who didn't live within thirty miles of it. In truth, most would probably have never learned of its existence had it not been for the incident. It would have been just like the thousands of other rundown towns and villages scattered across the world, had it not been the hell that awoke beneath its feet. Who could have imagined the day? When smoke billows from the earth itself, and the ground yawns open into fiery maws? The land your family has lived on for generations, now teetering above an eternal inferno. At this point, the whole world knows. They know the name of this forgotten town and the hell it now sits upon. We know it is a coal fire that was lit up from some accident and now has the fuel to blaze for centuries. But in the beginning, we didn't know, and they didn't know as well.

It is a scenario meant only for horror stories, so why would anyone expect it to be real? Who in this simple little town would have ever thought something so infernal could be happening to them? The smoke is probably from someone burning trash, and the quivers and quakes of the earth caused by the old mines. Simple explanation to everything, really. You don't dare think something so extreme until the ground gives way and entire homes plunge into the burning jaws of hell itself. But before these dramatic things happened, the incidents went by without notice. They were so small that they were ignored during the ceremonies of every day life. There was one thing, however, that couldn't be ignored: those who never came home. The beloved family dog that ran out into the woods as they always done, but never returned. The playful child skipping school to goof off, but nowhere to be seen once supper was ready. The old farmer going to his fields to tend the crops, but the tractor sits empty and cold. People and pets started to disappear, and no one knew why. It is easy now to see that they were swallowed up by the earth, making the one wrong step to send them hurtling into the heart of the flames. But at the time, no one could know. The holes collapsed in on themselves, burying their secret in unmarked graves. In a time of runaway children, unseen criminals and drunken affairs, everyone suspected something else when dad didn't come home or the dog didn't come running at the whistle. All they could do was suspect, without ever knowing the truth. And as those days went by in continued absence, they turned to the one trick they could think of.

Like leaves falling in autumn, the town soon began to find itself covered in a growing mass of missing posters. From scraggly pages scribbled in crayon begging for a beloved cat to come home, to finely printed sheets of ink spread by a weeping partner. The bulletin boards and posts started with only one or two, but soon grew clogged as more grieving families added to the pile. The whole town was caked in them, soon developing layers as fresh ones were hung to replace those that were buried beneath the grief. One notable spot, was the tree that sat in the heart of the town. There was nothing really special about it, save for it being a tree that was placed right in the middle of it all. Since so many people walked past it, why not nail your poster there? That was what many thought as they spread the word of their missing loved ones. They posted more and more to its trunk and branches, until these pages grew more than its leaves. With so many posters and no answers, some would think that the exercise was futile, but the townsfolk soon found a new purpose. The growing pages upon its branches were no longer calls for help, but memorials to the missing. The tree went from a bulletin board to a shrine, where mourners went to share their grief with others, knowing that they weren't alone. It was a ceremony of pain and comfort, to accept that a loved one would never return, but to know that there were others there for you. Who knows how long this went on, but we know it came to an end. At last, the truth tore itself open, as the fires grew hotter and the earth more violent. The land began to buckle and quake, and the hungering jaws began to devour chunks of the town. At that point, the survivors were evacuated and homes left empty. Firefighters and construction groups tried to stop the flames, but the effort was futile. In the end, the town was abandoned to the flames, as well as the memories of those who were lost.

While the stories of the burning town were quite popular for some time, interest began to dwindle as the years went on. The town was empty and the area sealed off. Though some would jump the fences and tape to explore that land devoured by flame, there wasn't much to see or steal. It was just like any other ghost town, save for the hell that sat below. Though it has faded to just a curiosity, there is one story that is stilled whispered and spread. It is not one of fact or history, but one of legend and superstition. A tale of the tree that sits in the very heart of this forsaken land, surrounded by flaming pits and forgotten misery. Some say that the tree still stands tall, that no fire or splitting earth has consumed it. No errant ember has lit its many posters, they still remain on its tangle of branches. In fact, they say it cannot be destroyed, that the tree will not allow its own demise. As the story tells it, the covering of missing posters and the crowds of mourners have soaked this twisted plant in misery and pain. All the loss and suffering has seeped into its very core, causing a sort of spirit to be born within. They say that it is now an entity fueled by those who have lost and those who yearn for closure. This being remains in this town, unyielding to the flames, because it has to remember. It needs to preserve the names of those who have been lost, so that they are not truly forgotten.

Alas, that is not the end of the tale. The tree is not just an eternal shrine to the dead, as some believe it is capable of serving the living. A tale was once told of a survivor of the town who lost another of their family. Who they lost differs from story to story, a child vanishing in the night or an elder who tried to return to their burning home due to a foggy mind. Regardless, they were visited by loss once again, and knew not the fate of their loved one. Driven by grief and in need of comfort, they trekked back to their forsaken homeland and braved its volatile nature. They navigated the churning inferno to find that one tree and added one last poster to its branches. With this simple ceremony done, they returned home and continued to grieve. A few nights later, their loved one returned to them, showing up at their doorstep in the dead of night. Some would say that they had been lost the entire time and finally found their way back home, while others call it a miracle. The legend claims, though, that this was no random act of god. They say that the lost soul came home with no recollection of how they got there, that they somehow returned without knowing it. There are many ways to interpret it, but it is said that something had taken them home. A gnarled angel, with wings of fluttering pages.

How true this story is, no one can really say, but there are many who have latched onto it. The legend has grown into a belief, that nailing a poster of one who is missing to this sacred tree will bring them back home. It seems a bit silly, but those who have lost with no answers may seek anything to help their haunted minds. However, this feat is not an easy one. The fires rage on still, and the land grows more unstable and volatile. While this legend is said to bring comfort and hope, it has instead brought death and pain to others. Mourning souls who delved into its lands, only to be consumed by its flames, becoming one with the missing. For those who have already suffered, they cannot bear to lose another, so there are many who refuse to entertain such naive legends. Why chase fairy tales if they lead to hell? But there are those who claim that the legends are true, that the tree can retrieve those who are lost. Some who say that they have made it to the tree and added their pain to the masses. Braving the lands has caused their missing to return, brought home by this merciful spirit. Such claims have jumped from many tongues, so there is no telling what is true. Missing people can simply show up sometimes, that cannot be denied. But perhaps some darker turns are not so easily explained. Dive deeper into these stories, and you may find that the tree never fails in its mission. If one adds a soul to its branches, it shall return them, no matter what. It is meant to grant closure and give answers to questions that haunt suffering minds. There are some answers, however, that are harder to swallow than others. What comfort can be gained, when you open your door and find a pile of dirty garbage bags at your feet?

--------------------------------------------------------------

Aaaaaand I am back! Funny how I keep taking time off during the one month where monsters are all the rage. But lets try to squeeze some in before the time is up!

What is Halloween without a spooky tree? Lets post one that has been stuck in my mind for I kid you not probably a decade before I finally got the right energy and mood to draw it. This Tree of the Lost has been on my to-draw list for ages, literally sitting at the top! Just goes to show how fast things work around here.