's 2017 Horror Write-off:

The Grove That Could Breathe

Submitted by Isabella W.

Somewhere, up in Oregon, or perhaps New Jersey, lies a grove. Fat raindrops lie still on her leaves, threatening to fall at any moment. Frogs jump from place to place, croaking carelessly. In the middle of the clearing lies a sequoia, embellished with large branches fit for nests to thrive upon.

Girl scouts often frequent the forest, astonished by its radiance. However, in one of the troops, a small, jovial one meandered through her winding paths, until she came face to face with the large sequoia. Astonished by its smooth looking bark, she planted her hand onto the bark. But, when she tried to pull away, she could not.

Now, coming to realize the texture, she felt nauseous. The tree was made of the same thing God made her of. It's suffocating flesh slowly enveloped her, pus covering her soft hands, fusing her pale skin with its own.

A man came through the grove, chopping the trees for his furnace. He trampled through underbrush until he found a meadow, with a simple, solitary tree standing in the middle, as if waiting for him, calling for him.

He obliged.