The Whistling

On his hub 'Monsters In The Trees', Frank Antanacio issued the following challenge:

"Several emails I've received prompted me into creating another chapter for Jenny Camacho. So I did it again. I kept her running. What I want you to do if you're up for the challenge is to create either her demise or her rescue... Do you have it in you? Sandastles? Faith? Genna East... well do you punks? Go ahead make my day..LOL I like to include your endings as alternate endings for Jenny Camacho. So there would be a few rules...

1) Min.. 300 words

2) More description and less dialogue

3) dark and dreary..

4) creative/ The title must come from a line in the story

5) an ending to end all endings..."

The following is my contribution to the final chapter of the gripping story.

.............

Running in the opposite direction from where the whistling sound originated, Jenny gradually increased speed though her legs felt as heavy as tree trunks. After maybe a few hundred yards, she stopped for a moment, hands on hips, panting, trying to catch her breath.Then she heard the whistling again. It was getting closer! Jenny panicked. She had run as fast as she could but he was still gaining ground.

She was about to commence running again when she heard a voice replace the whistling, "Skipper, where are you? Here boy," followed by more whistling. Thoughts whirled around in her head. The dog wasn't wild after all. It was someone's pet. That explained why it had been so friendly towards her back near the duck pond. It's owner was looking for it. Help was at hand!

Jenny Camacho tried to call out, "I'm over here. Help me!" but only a soft mumble left her parched lips. She also had trouble moving her legs again. Even lifting her feet was difficult. It seemed like every time she stopped moving she seized up. In fact it felt as if they were embedded in the earth. Now her arms! She had lost control of them as well. They waved in the air as if to catch each passing breeze. She looked at her fingers, and her eyes bulged in shock The tips had begun to sprout leaves. "What is happening to me?" she thought, "I must be dreaming."

The voice was loud now just to her left, and he whistled again, but she couldn't reply. Jenny had trouble breathing and her body was stiffening. Her skin was becoming rough and scaly. She was aware of her surroundings but couldn't turn her head. It felt as though many of the trees were watching her and calling her name, but she was silent.

The dog's owner passed by without noticing the young tree with its almost human shaped trunk, and new green growth sprouting from it's arm-like branches.

Meanwhile, the tall thin madman turned his attention to following the whistling.

Jenny, like all his other eleven human victims, had now been transformed. She'd become part of his beautiful and beloved forest. Her beauty would live forever.

If you enjoyed the challenge of writing an ending for Frank's wonderful story, you may be interested in doing the same for this short story I wrote awhile back, "Blast From The Past.”

It's a very basic short story with a familiar story line. I'd be interested in seeing how creative my fellow hubbers can be with this..