Flick Knife – Out of Control

Henny was out in her favourite national park, it was name Sequoia after the trees in the midst of California, the village in which she lived was called ‘Three Rivers’ named that for obvious reasons they actually met at the foot of her garden. It was a strange place with a hotel, pizza restaurant and a strange gas station, one of those local towns for local people, of course because she had grown up there she was OK but whenever her friends came from the surrounding area they were still treated with suspicion despite visiting regularly for over twenty years.

The house itself was set into the hillside with one of the rivers running along the valley, her parents had always been free spirited and were considered ‘hippies’ by the locals. Passing traveller friends or randoms often stayed with them either camping in the garden or by the river, some of the parties had been wild, drum circles were a frequent occurrence and there was always art on display on the veranda.

The only way to get to Sequoia from their house was to walk, this wasn’t a problem as Henny loved to hike so a 3km walk through the valley was pleasurable, she could have taken a bike or driven but then she would be stuck with whatever vehicle she had brought, her very favourite place was right at the top so she could look over the trees and across the valley it was a truly magical view. It was here she stood, it was a clear day and she could see all the way to the other side. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a glint in the sun, leaning closer it looked like a knife just lying there, clean and shiny it winked again at her, curiosity got the better of her as she leaned down and picked it up. It felt good in her hand although she wasn’t sure why, it was ice cold despite the summer temperatures, she opened it up and it glowed in the sunlight.

Henny tried to drop the knife but it felt glued to her hand, she closed it again and tried to throw it back down on the ground but again it was stuck. In the back of her mind she could hear something a small voice trying to make themselves heard, she strained to listen and the voice got louder “help me im trapped” it floated on the wind, Henny was confused “who are you? where are you?” the tiny voice came again – “I’m inside you and the knife”. This was a little more than Henny could cope with “how did you manage that? and how do I get you out?” the voice was a little louder this time “I have to avenge my death otherwise I will be trapped forever!”. Henny sighed, this sounded like it was going to be an adventure she didn’t necessarily want to go on. Starting back down the hill knife in hand the voice in her head continued to chat away to her, Henny discovered an ancient spirit had trapped themselves accidentally in the knife when they had enraged a sorcerer. It was all starting to sound a little far fetched and she had a moment where she questioned her own sanity, she would discuss it with her parents when she returned, they would know what to do.

To be continued.

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