Whispers of the Wishing Tree: A Tale of Fate and Ambition

The plane touched down on the asphalt runway. The engines were cut, and I could finally hear again.

A small town in central France had been chosen as the site of our new facility. Of course, it was small. I mean, why would we build a massive robotic plant in the middle of the desert? People are what make the world go round, after all. So, we'd designed our factory to look like a quaint french village, with cobblestone streets and houses that looked like they were out of a painting. I thought it was beautiful - or at least, I had thought so when I'd first seen it ten years ago. Now it just felt haunted.

I let my feet touch the ground. Most people took vacations around this time of year to celebrate Christmas at home - but not me. My mother had passed away last week from old age, and all I wanted was to get away from everything that reminded me of her - including my husband, my kids, my job...everything. The past ten years had been hard for us - she could never quite accept that I was "lesbian." At least that's what she always said to me when she'd catch us in bed together: "You're lesbian!" Not "You're married!" Not "What?! You're cheating on your husband with my daughter?" But that one little word: Lesbian. It always made me feel stupid and dirty - like being gay was some disease you could catch by interacting with lesbians or something...she'd caught it herself, though she didn't want to call it by its name either. She tried to cure herself by reading books about how homosexuality was a choice, or a mental illness or whatever else people came up with to justify their own choices and prejudices back then. In the end she just got tired of fighting it and gave up trying to be straight - instead she became an alcoholic and a drug addict who dragged her family through hell until she finally died of lung cancer (when she wasn't too high to stay alive). Well, maybe dying wasn't such a bad thing after all... At least now she could rest in peace without having to worry about whether or not her daughter was going to hell for being gay...or about her son's sexuality (he is gay too).

My mind wandered back to reality as I stepped off the plane and into the cold dry air of France. Everything looked pretty much the same as when I had left; everything except for one thing: The tree by the airport had disappeared! There was only empty space where it used to stand before. A chill ran down my spine as I remembered stories my mother used to tell me about trees in general - about how they held spirits inside them...about how there were trees out there that were alive and sentient beings just like humans were...and how most people were afraid of them because they were so powerful...so many things can happen if you ask the right question and listen carefully enough - things beyond human understanding...things beyond life and death itself... Did someone make use of that power before we got here? Did someone do something foolish? Was someone hurt? Someone killed...?

I shivered again and made my way towards the baggage carousel near the exit. It was almost midnight already; all alone in a foreign country where I didn't speak the language very well at all...the only thing keeping me from freaking out more than that was knowing that soon enough there would be someone there who could understand me...the owner of this place - Mr. Darkside himself (or himself along with his wife).

"...Merry Christmas..."

* * *

Mr. Darkside greeted his guests as they entered his house silently through the backdoor. He welcomed every single one of them warmly with a kiss on both cheeks before ushering them towards their bedroom doors upstairs - except for one person whose attire let him know that he couldn't forget him: A man dressed in black from head to toe wearing sunglasses even at night; most likely some kind of journalist who wanted information about the factory opening tomorrow morning - but did not want anyone else getting word about it ahead of time by making him spill his guts tonight over drinks or food or whatever else journalists usually use as an excuse to get people to talk. However, he decided against delaying this guy's departure any longer than necessary; he was already late for his meeting with his wife at midnight anyway: Their favorite time together every single day since their wedding day over 30 years ago now - nothing more than just sitting next to each other in silence while having coffee together at midnight every day before going to bed - a ritual they had created back then because they both wanted to start their days off in quiet tranquility rather than getting up early like every other normal person does on workdays; an opportunity for them both to reflect upon each other's presence before having breakfast together like most couples do on weekends instead. It's been so long now that he doesn't remember exactly why they started doing

it, but it had become an essential part of their lives.

As Mr. Darkside walked towards the backdoor, he glanced over his shoulder to see the mysterious man in black observing the room with keen curiosity, taking note of the antique furniture and the family portraits on the walls. Mr. Darkside couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease. There was something about this stranger that set him on edge, a sense of darkness veiled behind those sunglasses.

He stepped out into the cold night, the door closing behind him with a soft click. The air was crisp, but not biting, and the moon hung high in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape. Mr. Darkside walked towards the small gazebo at the edge of the garden. It was their designated meeting spot, a place where they could be alone with their thoughts under the starry sky.

As he settled into the gazebo, he caught sight of his wife making her way towards him. She was a vision of elegance, her silver hair cascading down her shoulders and her eyes gleaming with a warmth that could melt even the coldest of hearts.

"Darling," Mr. Darkside said, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and adoration, "I've waited for this moment all day."

His wife smiled serenely, her hand reaching out to brush against his cheek. "And so have I, my love. It is in these quiet moments that I find solace and strength."

They fell into a companionable silence, their fingers intertwined as they sat side by side, gazing up at the twinkling stars. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own private sanctuary.

But amidst the tranquility, a sudden gust of wind swept through the garden, rustling the leaves and causing the gazebo to sway ever so slightly. Mr. Darkside's instincts heightened, his senses on alert.

"What is it, my dear?" he asked his wife softly, concern etched in his face.

She sighed, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon. "Something has changed, Arthur. I can feel it in the air. There is a darkness coiled beneath the surface, ready to strike."

His heart quickened in his chest, his mind racing to decipher her words. "Do you think it has anything to do with the disappearance of the tree at the airport?"

She nodded solemnly. "It is more than a mere coincidence, my love. That tree held ancient power, a guardian of sorts. Its absence signifies a shift in the balance of life and death."

Mr. Darkside's mind boggled at the implications. What could have caused such a disturbance? Was their carefully planned facility in danger? He couldn't let these thoughts consume him. He had to remain calm, focused, and find a way to protect the ones he loved.

"I will investigate this further, my dear," he declared, a steely determination in his voice. "I will ensure the safety of our family and our new venture. Nothing will harm us while I still breathe."

His wife squeezed his hand, her eyes filled with unwavering trust. "I know you will, Arthur. You have always been our protector, our light in the darkness. Remember, no matter what happens, we are united."

A surge of affection swelled within him, fueling his resolve. He would face whatever came their way, guided by love and the strength of their bond. The echoes of his mother's stories about the power of trees reverberated in his mind, and he vowed to unravel the mystery that now enveloped their small town.

As they sat there together, the world around them seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the storm to break. And in that moment, with their hearts intertwined, Mr. Darkside knew that no matter what darkness loomed ahead, they would face it together.