I would start with an introduction. But it doesn't seem appropriate giving that this isn't a story to be telling lightly. In any case, every story has a beginning, right? And I'm not talking beginning as in the story's beginning. I'm talking about where the idea flourished from… where great thoughts strung together to form a beautiful legend arise from, inadvertently, spontaneously, or inspired. This story though is different. It's a story nonetheless, but not one I would recommend you tell YOUR children in circumstances, and I wouldn't even call it a story. More like a fable, a lesson. With it's dark connections and connotations, it seems ridiculous to be telling it now instead of when it was the right time, but time does move on, and stories are passed down. And this is where mine begins. My tale of the light, chased and subdued by the Dark. How men infect and destroy thriving nature, and how nature can fight back. How man's own nature can fight back. Something we create to scare children, to prevent disasters from happening. Because that's what we do, right? We create elaborate fantasies and creatures to induce horror into our children's heads? As right or wrong as it seems, this one was wrong. Because it didn't just come to life in my children's worlds… but mine, and yours too.

It must have started about 5 years ago, give or take. My son had been playing in the wood's surrounding my house, even after I gave him strict instructions not to. I chastised him as much as I could, but the next day, he went again, and again the next day, and the next. Naturally, I wasn't happy with him. So what did I do? I made up a story of course. About a tall, thin man, whom in the dead of night, would "come to catch you. He doesn't jump at you, he doesn't carry you off in a bag. He simply comes to your door, opens it. And whisks you away. Never to see your sister, or father. Ever again." Evidently, it seemed to work. He never went back into those dense thick trees again in a hurry. But I've been starting to wonder if it was because of my story.

Or the tall, thin man, lurking in the woods.