The Dead Tree – Short Fiction

The tree was exactly at the spot as mentioned in the letter. Though dead many years ago, the tree stood it’s ground as if it was thriving. The branches spread out from the bark in a weird form almost as if to spread as wide as it could and then grab onto something.

The surface of the tree shone in the moonlight, glistening almost as it iwas too proud of the power that it possessed.

Choosing the right branch was crucial to get the result. That was mentioned on mutiple pages with stress on how anything else has the possiblity to leave you dead three days from contact. With the letter as a map, I counted the branches from down.

There! That had to be it.

I climbed the tree to reach the fourth branch on the right pointing in the north direction. I sat down on the branch. Though the tree looked lifeless from distance, I could actually feel the power pulsating deep inside it.

I set the map aside and took out the vial. The vial had the carefully prepared powdered, anyone would kill for.

Unsheathing the ceremonial knife, I cut my thumb and let the blood drip into the vial. Using the same knife, i scratched out a small piece of wood from the branch and dipped it in the vial.

The vial was already frothing inside. I raised the vial up and facing the north direction, gulped everything from it. It tasted metallic. The wooden piece seemed to have dissolved in the froth.

I waited for few minutes. Nothing seemed to happen. Could it all have been just a story?

I climbed down the tree feeling disappointed. It surely did not work. I felt no different.

I bent down to pick up my bag but went off balance suddenly, almost falling fell down loosing my footing.

I looked down. The bag had turned to gold.


It works.

Anything touched by the hand turns to gold.

I picked up a stone on the ground, flipped it into the air and caught it in my palm as it landed back as a small rock of gold.

I shouted in happiness as hope became the halo of my dreams!


Photo Credit


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