Feast of the Forest Table

> "For the Feast of the Table waits alone,
> for its next dish to come sit on its throne."
>
> Feast of the Forest Table, Closing Lines

**Feast of the Forest Table** was a fairytale from the book Tales Seeping through the Crystal Eye written by Rhodes Maddox. While this tale is aimed at a younger audience, this story comes off a quite dark for the target audience. This is the first story in a series of tales to begin to take a dark turn, all tales proceeding Feast of the Forest Table getting increasingly dark and hopeless.

## Story

Young and starving, a boy walks a trail,

spawn of Martriida, where famine lurks wide.

Enter the forest beyond border vale,

search for food for his dying mother’s side.

The trail grew dark, and the vines grew thick.

Forest silent, his stomach rumbling.

Suddenly a shuffle, a bound, a click.

Golan now the food, hiding, fumbling.

Behind a mossy log he dashed, he tripped,

holding his breath and covering his ribs.

Blood from his side, his clothes utterly ripped.

Hoping all the stories he heard were fibs.

A shadow drew close, heavy breathing ensued.

He wasn’t much a lunch, but bones and chew.

Silence, dirt kicked up, a hurry, to conclude.

A blood curdling scream, all the birds flew.

Dirt and flora brushing off his body,

light in his eyes, attractive and blinding.

Delightful smells growing, strong yet foggy.

A feast on a forest table, shining.

Sausages, broccoli, steak and quail.

Mounds of potato, carrots and tomato.

Twas calling to him, he didn’t fail.

Stuffing his mouth first with carbonado.

Seat taken at the end of the table,

next to go was the pot-berries and peas,

shoving down jars, not reading the label.

Not stopping, not a breath, choking on cheese.

A thought struck his mind, he stopped still.

“What about my mother, cousin, darling?”

The table begun to shake, up until,

a face formed, passing cooked starling.

“My table is endless, why don’t you stay?”

Golan looked shocked, stepping back twice.

“Mums been starving for days, It’s not okay!”

The table shrugged, began eating rice.

“What’s another plate? One more dish or two?”

The boy stood silent, the smells forcing in.

“Boy you’re starving, take a seat and come chew”

Chair swivels, Table offers with a grin.

His stomach screaming louder than his mind,

taking the table’s offer, chair pulls close.

“What do you crave? I can give any kind.

Pickled onion? Dandelion? Pig nose?”

“What am I saying, have all the dishes!”

Table said with delight, food appearing.

Smells overtook him, true came his wishes,

once again shoving his mouth, now tearing.

“So many flavours I’ve never tasted!”

He said between mouthfuls, Table then spoke,

“No wonder boy that you’re slender-waisted.

Eat up, don’t leave until you’re full, don’t choke!”

He kept eating, his stomach stood hollow,

undoing two buttons on his torn slacks.

More food came, every bite he did swallow,

his body beginning to feel the tax.

Vines grew around the chair legs, stuck in place.

The boy’s belly grew, he, his own prison.

“No matter how much I eat, there’s still space!”

Food still for him to eat, freshly risen.

The food slid away, across, out of reach.

Golan tried stretching, but he was stuck hard.

“Could you pass the gravy, sugar and peach?”

“Not in that shape! You’re fit for a farmyard.”

The boy struggled, wood arms jabbing his hips.

“Help me! I’m stuck! How did I get this big?”

Table’s lips pursed, eating the last chips.

“Boy, oh boy, look at you. You’re such a pig!”

“Speaking of which, you did eat all the pork.

You could win a competition, but you...”

Table’s sharp mouth opened wide with a torque.

“You’re better fit adding to the menu.”

The boy screamed, pushed, called for help,

but alas, the forest grew dark once more.

It stood quiet, but for one final yelp,

another dish joins disguised as boar.

For the Feast of the Table waits alone,

for its next dish to come sit on its throne.