At least every other week, we get a job that involves retrieving someone from Suicide Forest. Despite its name, very little actual suicide happens there. It’s just that we’re not allowed to call it something like “Demon Forest”, and “Homicide Forest” already exists a few towns over.

Interestingly, the human to monster ratio of attacks is pretty equal there.

Unfortunately, while Homicide Forest is one area, Suicide Forest stops and starts in various places—as the forest itself is fairly sizable. From the noisy overpass to the poor excuse for a mall, all the way down to the fence surrounding the middle school, and eventually transitioning into the mountains.

Personally? I hate being out in nature. And if there’s one thing worse than nature, it’s nature infested with Lesser Demons (demons that can’t maintain their form), wendigos, and werewolves. As well as the occasional abomination we don’t have a name for yet.

Actually, Mallory is currently trying to come up with a name for the beast as she leads the way through the forest—off the barely-beaten paths and into unnatural darkness.

“Maybe we should combine our names together? We did discover it, after all.”

“What, like… J.Mal?”

“Sounds basic. Needs more flavor…”

I try to think of a better combination of our names, glancing around warily as we descend deeper into darkness. But, I maintain my trust in Mallory. She’s spent a lot of time in this forest.

“That’s too much of just my name, isn’t it?” She pauses, looks around, then turns right.

“What is?”

“Mallor-Lee.”

“It is, indeed.” I laugh.

“See, told you.”

“Maydenry sounds pretty good though. Good letter balance too.”

“Not bad. That’s what we’ll call it until further notice!”

Mallory hops over nothing, then turns around to face me. I mimic her hop, in case there was something she saw that I didn’t.

“Look, a shortcut!” She holds out her hands. “Try not to misstep this time~!”

I clasp her hands and let her guide me through a patch of ground that seems almost inky in texture, and blacker than black itself. For every step she took back, I took one forward—careful to step in the indentation she had previously made.

The path wasn’t straight—even winding back to where we started at some point—but eventually we stepped onto a normal dirt path again. We hadn’t gone far, but I could no longer see the section of the forest we’d left. Only darkness.

God, I hate this forest.

I can’t understand why Mallory spent so much time in here—and still does. The unnatural darkness is unsettling, and it always feels like you’re being watched. Not to mention the overwhelming feeling of death.

The distinct smell of blood, the unrecognizable, bony mounds strewn about, the whispers with no distinct source. It’s not a place that’s even a little welcoming.

Mallory has spent so much time in Suicide Forest, the inhabitants have gained an odd tolerance for her. Usually when people go inside this forest, they don’t come out in one piece (if they come out at all). Mallory has been able to come and go as she pleases (for the most part), and has learned the safe paths to take fairly well.

I think she might even have a little hut somewhere in the forest? I’m not sure, she never takes me very deep into the forest if it can be avoided. I just find it kind of interesting, is all.