"Figured," she hopped out.

Before her, the motes of light rose. One the color of thistle flashed. Soothing warmth radiated from the ball of flame, familiar and patient. Marie reached for it, caught the hint of gingerbread, and thought of Bethany. It danced away into the mire, though stopped to wait on her.

"Inky," Tim said, confused, "do you see something?"

She flinched, blushed, "No…I saw a bug." The mote flashed, and she looked back, "I think it's this way."

Tim said nothing, but only followed her with more faith than Marie felt. The earth was like glue beneath him, but she moved much easier. Soon, the darkness swallowed the truck behind them.

The land had a memory, long and complete. Ashley Hollow had drowned in the misery of Hemlock Hurst. Hate, misery, insanity, and death bled down into the earth. It darkened the forest, its mind and heart, but even the forest can go mad. Poison hearts had pumped their malice out upon the ground.

A deathly wound had been struck. War had come, brother against brother. They had not come from different states, but from separate counties or even from the same family. Evil had festered, and it had bloomed on top of Lear Mountain. The roar of cannons had filled Ashless Hollow, report of rifles echoed. Screams passed among the trees for deliverance. The Union had come under the command of Lt. McWhorter and his second in command Gregory. They'd met General Lance Van Lear on the battlefield before, and sought out the man's personal wealth. Men of Hemlock Hurst, fathers, sons, and brothers, had fought in the muck of the bog. The Confederates had won, though it had crippled them. Beaten but unbroken, the Federals had sworn to end the man and his little kingdom.

Marie recalled Bethany had spoken of the Battle of Brothers. It had left a wound on the land, Blackberry Bog. The heart of Ashless Hollow was twisted.

Mud caked figures rose from the mire. The memory of the land was drowned in nightmare, imprisoned by the malignant. They were obfuscated by the dark. Two armies closed ranks to once again do battle. A shade raised a musket, as Marie's light found it. She screamed at the mud covered skull.

Tim jerked at the cry of terror, "INKY, what's wrong?!" He reached for her, and saw Marie's wide eyes.

Deeper into the bog she fled, and he struggled to follow. Shades of death were given life by the defiled memory of the land. Once again they would fight. Once gain they would die. Ashless Hollow recalled the Battle of Brothers. The sound of muskets bellowed, flat yet lifeless. Between the ranks of Feds and Rebs, she dodged. They hacked at each other, and bellowed out agonized cries driven to madness. The phalanxes formed, raised rifles, and fired in disciplined misery. The pieces of dead soldiers fell to the mud, only to rise back.

She staggered, winced at the boom of cannons. The thunderous report reverberated in the bones. Tim screamed at her to slow down, but Marie ran from phantoms, mind numbed by terror.

"PLEASE, Inky stop," he struggled after her, though the bog clawed for purchase on him. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry. Oh God, forgive me," he pleaded. Tim watched Marie's flashlight swing about the forest. "I love you," he said without thought, and felt his face burn. He had never stopped. Bethany, on her death bed, wanted his oath to protect her daughter. Again and again, he'd failed, Tim cursed himself, and in his heart, the losses had buried him.

Another beam cut through the dark, and he turned. Covered in filth, they plodded through the mud. Drawn by the light, Marie turned from the Feds and Rebs to see the hulking man. She shook her head, and turned away from the ghostly figure covered in darkness. The madness won. Heedless of the shades and battle she ran ever deeper into Ashless Hollow. Tim stumbled after, though thought the darkness around the figure was odd.

Barnett cursed. The fine suit he wore was ruined, hat somewhere in the muck. In the trash his mother had left him, believed him dead. The deformity between his eyes was like an open wound. Until he had started to grow in bursts, all had mocked him. They'd stopped, once he made them, at least when he was around. Alice was the only one who ever saw him as more than a monster. The plastic surgery she performed had left only a thin red line, yet the old, crimson rage flared, when anyone looked upon his face. Only Alice deserved to see it.

Tim and Marie moved through Ashless Hollow faster than him. Barnett had decided to follow the La Voison, for she'd proven capable of unearthing secrets. The other superstition Diana had described he had dismissed. Though in the swamp, he admitted there were odd noises. Sometimes, the play of light over the dark forest was strange. Gunfire rocked the forest, yet they sounded strange in the mire. In this valley of shadow, he was the only devil, but the faces in Ashless Hollow formed to leer in demonic glee.

The flashlight in Barnett's hand flew from shadow to shadow. Marie and Tim disappeared in the lowland, and he cursed the maze of trees. He pressed on.

Marie flew from the hulking figure, almost collided with a backhoe. Air rushed out of her lungs. Panicked mind pushed beyond thought, Tim followed, though struggled to keep up with her. She pushed passed the corpse of the machine, which had been consumed by Ashless Hollow. Briars gathered in clusters, but she pushed through; thorns scratched exposed skin. One ensnared an ankle, capricious and strong.

She looked up to see the Sheriff, "Rutger, please stop!'

He turned, but was unsurprised, "I knew you would come, but I hoped you would stay away. You don't want to see this." He used a long branch to pull the noose to him, "Or, maybe you do. You should see justice finally served."