HYBRID==short story

THE WOODS I SEE FROM MY WINDOW BECON ME,CALLING TO MY SENSES. FOR YEARS I FEARED VENTURING INTO THAT LARGE CLUSTER OF TALL TREES AND DAMP LEAVE STREWN EARTH.ALWAYS AFRAID OF WHAT MAY LIE IN WAIT OUT THERE,HIDING,WAITING TO RIP THE SOUL FROM MY BEING.FOR YEARS THAT FEAR HAS GROWN,BUT AS OF LATE THE STRANGE YEARNING RETURNS ,ON NIGHTS LIKE THIS,WHEN THE CLOUDS PART IN THE NIGHT SKY AND THE SILVER MOON GLOWS FAINTLY IN THE HEAVENS.THE FEELING OF DREAD AT THESE TIMES IS OVERCOME WITH A FEELING OF HUNGER AND CURIOSITY,MY USUAL BOTTLE OF BRANDYDOES NOT SEEM TO DULL MY SENSES AS IT ONCE DID.ON NIGHTS LIKE THIS I FORCE MYSELF TO STAY INSIDE,AWARE THAT ONE MISSTEP COULD BE THE END OF ME.

  LONG AGO,YEARS,PERHAPS DECADES;MY MIND IS NOT SO CLEAR OF LATE,I DID ONCE VENTURE INTO THE WOODS,JUST PAST SUNSET,CAUTIOUSLY MAKING MY WAY THROUGH THE DENSE BRUSH,HEARING THE CRUNCH AND CRACKLE OF FALLEN BRANCHES,DRYING LEAVES  UNDER MY FEET AS I STRODE DEEPER INTO THE FOREST.THE DAMP SMELL OF SOMETHING OLD ,FORBODING AROMA OF PERHAPS SOMETHING LONG DEAD FILLED MY NOSTRILS AND QUICKENED MY HEART.IN THE FADING LITE I SAW WHAT AT FIRST APPEARED TO BE THE RAMSHACKLE REMNANTS OF AN OLD CABIN.BUT AS I DREW CLOSER I SAW THAT IT WAS A MOONSHINERS SHACK,FALLEN INTO LITTLE MORE THAN DEBRIS AND FRAMING.

.  THE STILL,THE BOOTLEGGERS CAULDREN STOOD UPRIGHT NEAR THE FAR CORNER OF THE SHACK,ODDLY A PERFUME OF ALCOHOL WAFTED FROM ITS KETTLE AS IF IT WAS STILL IN OPERATION.NOW I MYSELF BEING SOMEWHAT OF A TIPPLER DECIDED TO AT LEAST INVESTIGATE THE SOURCE OF THE AROMA,LIKE FLIES DRAWN TO A CARCASS I COULD NOT RESIST THE SWEET PUNGENT SCENT THAT FILLED MY NOSTRILS.

  I PRIED OFF THE RUSTED COVER,CUTTING THE PALM OF MY HAND WHILE DOING SO ON THE RUSTED METAL.I PEERED INSIDE AND SAW THAT YES INDEED THIS WAS ACTUALLY FILLED NEAR TO THE BRIM WITH A SWEET AND  STRONG SMELLING LIQUID.I PICKED UP A NEARBY STICK FROM THE GROUND AND TENTATIVELY POKED IT INTO THE CONTENTS OF THE BARREL,STIRRING EVER SO LIGHTLY,BARELY DISTURBING THE SURFACE.

   THE URGE TO TASTE WAS OVERWHELMING,AS IF I WAS HYPNOTIZED BY THE SLIGHTLY SWIRLING LIQUID.I CAREFULLY DIPPED A FINGER IN THE BARREL, NOTICING THAT A SMALL TRICKLE OF BLOOD FROM MY INJURED HAND DRIPPED INTO IT CAUSING A SMALL RIPPLE ON THE FLUIDS SURFACE.I TASTED IT AND A WARM SENSATION COURSED THROUGH MY ENTIRE BODY,A FEELING I CAN ONLY DESCRIBE IN HINDSIGHT AS ALMOST ORGASMIC IN ITS INTENSITY.THE FLAVORS WERE MANY TO MY TRAINED WELL-WORN TASTEBUDS,A COMBINATION OF MANY RECOGNIZABLE HERBS,FRUITS AND BERRIES.BUT THERE WAS ALSO AN UNIDENTIFIABLE BACK OF THE TONGUE FLAVOR THAT SEEMED OUT OF PLACE,ODD YET PIQUANT,STRANGE AND BITTER,SWEET AND UNCTUOS.IN AN EFFORT TO FURTHER IDENTIFY WHAT THIS STRANGE PALATE ENTICING BREW ACTUALLY WAS I RAISED A CUPPED HANDFULL AND DRANK IT DOWN.I SUDDENLY FELT BOTH TIPSY AND INVIGORATED AT THE SAME TIME.BY THIS POINT I CARED LITTLE ABOUT WHAT DANGER THERE WAS IN SAMPLING THIS STRANGE CONCOCTION.THEN IT STRUCK ME,HOW ODD THAT NEITHER THE KETTLE NOR THE GROUND BENEATH IT WAS WARM FROM WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN AT LEAST THE EMBERS OF A RECENT FLAME TO COOK THIS BREW.I FANCIED THOUGHTS THAT PERHAPS THE FIRE LONG COLD WAS HASTENENDEDLY EXTINGUISED DAYS  OR PERHAPS WEEKS AGO,THE CURATOR OF THIS STILL PERHAPS FRIGHTENED AWAY,LEAVING THE KETTLE TO GROW COLD.

   WITH THE LAST OF THE TWILIGHT APPROACHING I HURRIED BACK HOME TO RETRIEVE CONTAINERS WITH WHICH TO PURLOIN THIS INTRIGUING HOOCH FOR MY OWN PERSONAL USE...

   (2 b continued )please do not  contribute..comments..blah blah..you know the routine..SAK