The Killing Forest Read Free

for him to pull his pants up and sprint into the forest, away from the bonfire’s flames, the torches, and the men. He didn’t stop until he was dizzy from the blood pounding in his temples. He leaned over with his hands on his knees and spit on the ground. He gasped for breath as sweat ran cold under his shirt.
    The image of the woman’s naked body returned to him. Again, he felt an unaccustomed stir down below. He squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn’t erase the image of the thin red line of blood. He jerked up at the sound of her screams splitting the darkness.
    Reluctantly he stopped, turned around, and began walking back.
    By the time he was close enough to see the bonfire’s flames through the trees, the woman had stopped screaming. Sune leaned against a tree in shock when he saw why. Her mouth was bound with something white. He couldn’t see her face, but she was struggling, desperately.
    He tried to force himself to look away, but his eyes locked on to the men holding her. He noticed his father hunched over behind her. Then he zipped up his pants and stepped aside for the next in line.
    The young woman kept struggling as the line continued, every man having at her. Each time she pushed or kicked, they punched her, and only when the last man had finished did the two who had held her arms during the gang rape let go. She sank to the ground and lay motionless.
    Sune’s scream stopped at his throat. Suddenly he was freezing. He ached for the warmth of the fire but couldn’t move. He watched the men pull at the woman’s arms, shaking her shoulders. Finally the gothi leaned over and felt for her pulse. He let go of her arm and shook his head.
    The men gathered at the bonfire. Sune heard them speaking but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Then several of them walked behind the van and disappeared into the forest while the rest began to pick up in the clearing.
    Sune had no idea how long he’d stood there motionless, staring. All he knew was that the young woman, the same one who only a brief time ago had stood smiling in front of him, was no longer moving.
    “We’re ready!” someone yelled from behind the van. The gothi walked over to the woman and lifted her. Her arms and legs dangled limply as he carried her into the forest.
    Sune trembled. His right foot was asleep, and his leg gave way when he tried to back into the woods. It was as if his brain refused to accept what his eyes had just seen. His body felt leaden, his heart pounded in terror. He knew the young woman was dead; he’d known it the moment she fell to the ground motionlessly.
    He crawled a few meters away. Finally he got the circulation going in his foot. It stung. He should run and hide, he thought, but where to? He peered into the coal-black darkness of the forest. A few limbs cracked as he struggled to get to his feet and grope his way through the trees.
    Suddenly he heard voices calling his name. He knew they were coming for him. He held his breath and hunched up, then crawled in under some branches on the forest floor.
    The voices called again. They were closer now.
    “Sune, come on out here!”
    It was his father.
    “Come out, now, you’re a part of this. You can’t just run and hide!”
    Twigs broke as someone strode by him. He held his breath; then they were gone.
    He didn’t dare move. Soon he heard limbs crunching, leaves rustling—they were back. He hugged the ground and held his breath again, the forest floor moist against his cheek.
    They crisscrossed the area where he lay until he heard a sudden loud whistle. Then another. Like a siren voice in the oppressive quiet of the forest night. The men returned to the clearing around the bonfire as if the search had been called off.
    Finally, when the footsteps had disappeared, Sune relaxed. He breathed deeply and turned, glimpsing the moon shining clearly through the treetops. His heart pounded as he prayed to the gods that the men wouldn’t find him.
    Down by the sacrificial