I'm the owner of a small Diner tucked away in a town somewhere
in the middle of nowhere. Kansas the diner, doesn't really
get much action, aside from towns folk and the occasional
out of town are passing through and looking for a hot meal.
And when those folk happened to come by, I like to introduce
myself, bring them their food and then sit down with them and
explain a little game. I like to play to pass the time
out here for some context. I inherited this Diner from my
parents and have spent practically my whole life in
this town, aside from the rare trips to nearby events, markets
state, fairs Etc. But those are really only
reserved for special occasions and I don't mind that.
I enjoy the peace and quiet that comes with my lifestyle.
And I can't deny that. As far as lives go, I happen to
have myself a pretty good one. I have wonderful friends, the
sweetest husband and a beautiful baby girl named Kate, but as
nice as my life is to me, I can't deny that.
It's also real slow. Not many big things have
happened to me, if y'all understand what I'm saying.
And so, whenever an unknown face walks into my Diner, I asked
them if they have any stories to tell me and if they do, I'm
always more than happy to give them a discount on their meal.
I've been doing this since I was 22.
So about 10 years now. Okay, I'm going to admit
something a bit embarrassing to y'all.
The reason I had when I first started to do this, was that I
had recently found out about the notion of Cryptids and I thought
the concept was pretty damn cool.
Cool more specifically. I thought people viewing me as a
Cryptid would be pretty damn, cool.
You know, some girl, in some Diner in the middle of nowhere,
that you end up spilling your darkest secrets to and then
never see. Again, wouldn't that be a kind
of neat way to be perceived well, my spooky little young
adult self thought so and that's where it all began.
Normally, people are quite hesitant to talk at first.
However, they tend to warm up to the idea.
After I remind them, not only will we likely never cross.
That's again, but I don't care about what kind of story they
tell me, whatever, they feel like talking about.
I'll listen to, I just want a break from the monotony of
small-town life and boy, have I heard it all love affairs,
childhood traumas, crazy deathbed confessions heard by
nurses. The story of a very intoxicating
and very hush-hush to month relationship a customer.
Had with another woman in college before, she tragically
passed in an accident that she's never told a soul about since
especially. Especially not her very
Catholic. Now husband, but besides all
that jazz. There's one type of story.
I keep being told horror. Now I get why this is Ghost
Stories Supernatural crap. Whatever you want to call it.
That's the kind of thing. People are hesitant to talk
about and in my opinion half of it is because that's the kind of
thing. People are hesitant to believe
but who cares? If you tell it to me, you're not
going to see me again. So what's the harm in?
Finally telling someone it Ben wouldn't matter.
If I didn't believe them. They'd still get the discount,
but I do believe the stories, people tell me, it's something
in their eyes. I think, when I look into them,
I can see there being haunted by something awful and I think it
helps them to talk about it to leave here with the knowledge.
They're not carrying that burden alone and carrying it with them,
is something. I'm thankful I get to do.
I listened to their stories. Bring them sweet tea and dessert
to cheer them up afterwards. I'll hold their hands.
If they'll let me and just generally try to help them, it's
one small way. I can make an impact on some
people who are really hurting being the kind stranger they can
confide in knowing that they'll be believed.
But anyways I've told my husband some of these stories over the
years and he recently started browsing this subreddit and
mentioned to me that I should think about sharing some of them
with y'all. And so here I am sitting in my
comfy chair after my baby girl. Finally fell asleep with my
laptop and my absolutely darling cat.
Cinnamon, I really do hope you guys enjoy the story.
I decided to share today and I'll probably post some more
soon. It was about five years ago now.
I think this happened sometime in early July, so it was just,
after my 27th birthday, a young woman, stumbled into the diner,
I'd guess she was maybe a few years younger than I was 23.
May Maybe, well, the poor thing looked like she hadn't properly
slept in weeks with eye bags. So, dark.
I had to take a moment to figure out if they were actually black
eyes, she sat down at a booth, and I came over to pour her some
coffee, which she gratefully accepted.
I took her order waffles, with powdered sugar, and a side of
mixed fruit and moved to sit down across from her.
Instead of asking if she had stories to tell.
I decided to ask her if she was. All right, as the way, her eyes
shifted around the room. And the way, her hands trembled.
So violently as she tried to use the cutlery, made me nervous
that she was in some sort of danger.
She looked at me, and her eyes began to water, and in the
softest voice you could ever imagine.
She just told me that, I wouldn't believe her, it was
here where I explain some of the parts of my game focusing on the
fact that there's really no harm from talking about it.
If she wanted to our paths, would probably never cross
again. I remember the way she looked
down at the table as her hands. L've to scratch quite violently
at the skin on her arms which were just covered in long red
marks. Already my heart absolutely
ached at the site, but I decided not to say anything for the time
being though, it took everything in me not to reach over and take
her hands away and hold them myself.
Finally, she sighed and met my gaze as she nodded
ever-so-slightly at me? She told me she had a stalker
and not one. She thought was human.
The first time she saw him was a few months prior when she was
walking to her dorm alone one night back.
When she lived, right by the Appalachian Mountains, she had
gone out with some friends and didn't realize how late it had
gotten. And by the time she had started
to make her way home, it was nearly 2:00 in the morning.
The fastest way to get home meant, she had to use a small
path that cut through the woods. And she told me she was too
worried about the big test, she had to get home to study for to
really think about the dangers of walking through there at
night. As she walked, she said she got
that awful. Feeling that she was being
watched and out of nowhere. She was hit with this horrific
wave of anxiety, that her heart began to race like a scampering
jackrabbit, and she broke into a cold sweat, and then she noticed
it watching her through the tree line, it was tall and vaguely
man-shaped. Although she said, she would
hesitate to call it that and B. All she meant inhumanly tall,
roughly seven, or so feet by her.
Guess its skin was a sickly pale and its eyes were bloodshot.
Accompanied by an impossibly wide grin that revealed way too
many horribly stained teeth from what she could see the thing was
completely hairless and was dressed in camouflage type
clothing. The kind that hunters in the
military where she said that she froze up when she saw it staring
at the thing in absolute horror and it just stayed there.
Smiling at her. Eventually she snapped out of it
and bolted, yet the thing made no move to follow her.
All it did was turn to face her and continued to smile as she
ran off. Off.
She told me that when she got back to her dorm, just got this
sudden urge that she was going to be sick.
And this was super weird since the girl had only thrown up
twice in her life once when she got a really bad case of the flu
when she was 10. And once when she got a little
too drunk at a party in high school, Yet, she had spent the
next 10 minutes, throwing up everything in her stomach and
the next twenty dry heaving over the toilet.
Her roommate had rushed in to find her covered in sweat and
violently sobbing. As she threw up for no apparent
reason. She had tried to tell her about
the thing that she saw in the woods.
But her roommate had told her that she was probably just sick
with something and her mind was playing tricks on her.
She said that night, she had supposedly, had these Beyond
horrible nightmares and her roommate told her The next
morning she had woken up screaming four separate times.
That was her first encounter with the thing, but it certainly
wasn't the last at this point. She had begun hyperventilating
tears ran down her cheeks and a strangled cry retched itself
from her throat. I quickly ran over to the
counter, to get her some napkins, and a glass of water
before I finally gave in and grasped her shaking hands and
held them. Tightly, I had asked her if she
wanted to stop but she just shook her head.
And so I held her hands and waited Her to continue with her
story. She said she realized pretty
quickly that whatever it was came with the Night.
At first, she genuinely had just believed, she had come down with
some kind of awful virus, but when she woke up the next
morning, shaken and exhausted, but by all other means healthy,
she was very confused, but didn't really know what else to
do. Then email, her professor to
explain her situation and sit on her couch and watch episodes of
her favorite show while she apparently clung on to.
To her roommate for dear life. That was until Nightfall, came
around. And she saw the thing again.
And this time it was watching her from her.
Living room window, instead of freezing up again, she just
started to scream. And when her roommate rushed
over to see what was wrong, she looked out the window and went
pale as a ghost. She asked her roommate if she
was seeing it too and she just nodded before, dragging her out
of sight, from the things View and calling the cops.
Her symptoms immediately came back.
The vomiting the panic. Like Behavior the sweating, all
of it just like the night before for some reason though, her
roommate was completely. Unaffected shaken.
Sure. But no sickness, no nightmares,
nothing. Just like the few other people
after that, who saw it when they were with her, although nobody
ever saw it without her, and then, the police showed up and
things got even worse. They couldn't brush her concerns
off, even in the state, she was in her perfectly healthy
roommate had seen it too. So they began to look into
things and what they found was absolutely nothing.
The thing couldn't be seen on the security camera footage
right beside where it had been standing.
They couldn't find a record of any person matching its
description in their databases. No matter how many times she
called over the next three months, no matter the situation.
No matter if there was another person, there, who insisted,
they saw it too. They couldn't find any evidence
of it being there or any record of its existence.
She went to a psychiatrist who determined, she didn't seem to
be suffering from any sort of psychotic disorder and other
doctors at the local hospital ran every test.
They possibly could to explain her symptoms head.
CT, scans MRIs, they all came back, totally clean.
She had no head trauma tumors or any type of head injury, that
could be causing hallucinations. Her blood tests showed there was
no autoimmune disease, that could explain the symptoms, she
did gastric emptying scans and other similar tests, which
eventually Confirmed. There was no disorder that could
explain the vomiting. The symptoms never happened
during the day, during testing, or in any other situation.
She never got sick, had any other type of nightmare or
hallucination, she just kept seeing whatever the hell that
thing was and getting violently ill.
Eventually she decided to just try her best to stay inside
after dark, which worked for a while until the night when
everything went very wrong, she had gone to a local cafe to get
some homework done and accidentally fell asleep at her
computer and I'd woken up to one of the waitresses gently shaking
her awake and telling her it was closing time.
They're closing time was 10:00 p.m. the sun had said over an
hour ago. Her hands started to shake more
violently than they already were, which I didn't even think
was possible. And she choked back another SOB
before she continued to speak. She dug through her backpack to
find her pocket knife and tucked it into her jacket sleeve before
she began to Brave her way through the darkness back to her
house. The cafe was only a 10-minute
walk with the shore. But 20, if she stayed on the
streets, she considered her options for a moment trying to
figure out which was more dangerous.
She eventually decided that while the streets would take
longer, they were better lit, and maybe still had some people
out. It wasn't that late, but this
wasn't exactly a college town either.
There wasn't exactly a nightlife besides one or two bars odds,
were that she could make the whole trip and run into less
than a dozen people. She had made it ten minutes
before she got the feeling she got.
On the path. Again, the unmistakable feeling
of being watched coupled with cold sweats and horrible
anxiety. She slipped her knife out of her
jacket into her hand and held it out in front of her.
As her gaze shifted to the nearby alley way.
And there it was tall and pale as death with the same
bloodshot, eyes, and smile with too many teeth and that same
damn camouflage. Outfitted, always seem to wear
only this time. It also held something else, a
bouquet of wilted flowers, As the thing held them out to her,
she turned and bolted down the street.
All thought of Defending herself from that thing long forgotten
this time though, it dropped the flowers and took off after her.
And this was the first time she realized just how fast it
actually was. She told me she had always been
a good runner. She did track in high school and
even made the state finals, and this was without a doubt, the
fastest she had ever run in her life.
But this thing somehow caught up to her in a matter of seconds,
and Then it reached out and grabbed her shoulder at this.
She took her hands away from mine and pulled down one of the
sleeves of her yellow cardigan revealing, her bare shoulder and
my breath caught in my throat on her shoulder was a large scar
resembling. The shape of a hand Palm on the
shoulder itself. The outline of long fingers,
marking the top of her arm. My first thought was about the
time. I was 17 years old and saw a
story about a woman who had acid thrown on her face on TV.
It looked almost like that. At.
But if a person with inhumanly long hands somehow managed to
cover their own hand in acid without injuring them self, and
gripped her shoulder as hard as they possibly could, or maybe
like a third-degree burn in the shape of a hand.
Like, if it was from a person who was made of pure fire, she
sniffles softly, which pulled me out of my thoughts, in a
whispered voice, she told me that the doctor said, whatever,
burned, her eight away the fat, and a good portion of the
muscle. In that shoulder, she can barely
lift that arm. Now, As the tears ran down her
face, she talked about how the pain.
She felt in that moment was like nothing else.
She'd ever felt before she couldn't even describe it.
She remembered collapsing to the ground.
Screaming bloody murder. And right before she blacked
out, she said she saw the thing leaned over her.
And with that, horrible smile still on its face.
It hissed out one word to her soon.
She woke up in the hospital two days later.
Even after the wound healed, the pain, never stopped, and never
got better. And that was it.
That was the final straw for her.
She withdrew from college packed up her things and moved states
to live with her parents again. And for one week, things seem to
be okay. She thought maybe maybe it
didn't follow her here until a bouquet of the same wilted
flowers and an empty chocolate box stuffed to the brim with
human teeth and fingernails appeared on her parents
doorstep. It got closer after that more
and more bold until the night. When it actually knocked on her
window banging on. The glass with an almost
maniacal frenzy until the police arrived.
By that point, of course, there was nothing there not a trace.
Since then she's just been driving around the country.
Her parents have been sending her money for food and motels,
she figured that if it took a week to get from her old town to
her parents house and only seem to come out at night, then maybe
she could keep ahead of it. If she just kept moving, After a
moment of stunned silence. I asked, if I could hug her and
rushed over to pull the shaking girl into my arms as soon as I
got a nod of approval, I spent the next half hour.
Gently stroking her hair as she sobbed into my shirt.
I wanted to help this poor girl so badly, but deep down, we both
knew there was nothing. I could actually do to keep her
safe, but I told her the meal was on me and I took her back to
my house. It was still light out after
all, so I figured it was safe. I let her take a long shower and
helped bandaged up, her arms, made her dinner, and introduced
her to my cat. And then I cut up some fruit and
placed it in Tupperware containers along with some
cookies, and gave her directions to the nearest motel.
I still think about that, girl, all the time, it's been half a
decade and I haven't heard anything about her since.
I don't know if she was taken by that thing or if she managed to
outrun it, but I still pray every Every single night that
one of these days, she'll walk back into my Diner and tell me
the story of how she defeated that monster over more waffles,
covered with way, too much, powdered sugar and a side of
fruit. Just in case.
I don't make it away from this thing.
I'll leave this for an explanation.
I am as my father was. Before me, a man whose caller
could compete with the skies Hugh?
My calloused hands are a testament to that with a stature
that could rival, some ball players in a lack of aptitude
for education. I was a football coaches
Starchild though. Unfortunately my NFL dreams are
far behind me. Taking advantage of what God
gave me soon. After high school, I worked
construction. We're From Dusk to Dawn.
I slave till my back begged for a reprieve.
Nevertheless, I wasn't taught to complain and I never did
somebody had to lay down supports in the job.
Didn't get finished quicker by whining.
After a quarter of my life passed.
I soon. Realized that as much as I
wanted to hold true to my father's ideals.
My body was ready to call it. Quits hearing about an opening
in a trucking company from a friend.
I seized the opportunity without even On a second thought I'll
never forget the feeling I got from stepping High into that
seat and watching how the Beast came alive.
The rumbling under my feet from the Cab's humongous engine
slowly began to be my comfort. As I passed from Province to
Province. Aside from my dog, of course, I
found him as a mangy lab whose skin practically stretched over
Its Ribs. The animal was uniquely dark
could probably disappear when night falls and it size matched,
its striking appearance. They seem to always look for
Thing to explore seeing the state it was in, I'd be
heartless not to give it a place to eat since then it had been my
support throughout most of my hardships.
I'd grown accustomed to running my hands through its fur instead
of pouring, my sorrows into a drinking cup.
And without change here, that same dog was accompanying me on
another outing. Making sure I had everything I
needed in the cab food water in the such.
I turned to the dog curled up in my seat, as I gave him a soft
Pat, the truck came to life and so we, Began the trip as usual.
The drive didn't come with much entertainment.
I watched tirelessly as car upon car passed by on the sun.
Beatin pavement. My one break in the noise was
the sunset spreading out colors of red purples and yellows,
even. So, that was quickly, replaced
by stars laid across the night. I leaned back in the leather
seat and laid, my hands behind my head, before I knew, I was
sleeping. I woke up to my shock flat,
grassland had been replaced by tree, Is that seem to block out
the moon and between them no light escaped.
The vast warped branch has spanned out almost touching the
asphalt of the road. The only thing I could clearly
see was the path in front of me, still half awake.
I quickly took notice of my dog's whines pulling over on the
side of the road and letting the animal out to go do its business
as I viewed from the Agape door, the dog made its way from the
Rocks, deep into the cover of the tree line.
I turned my head away and began. Scrolling on my phone worry
began to settle after 15 minutes.
Ticked past. I let out a whistle here boy.
Let's get out of here for a few moments.
The only thing that greeted me was the impasse of bark and
foliage cloaking, Whatever May hide behind the surface, then,
as if on schedule, my dog clambered out of a break in the
tree line, where have you been Buddy?
I chuckled softly. I was worried sick.
The second. Its ears.
Perked up to the sound of my voice.
The animal became rigid. His body turned to me like he
was attached to a spinning rod. A dead.
Stare that went right through me matched my gaze.
It sent a shock down my spine. It was out of character for the
thing to move. So, strictly my dog held the
same unwavering stare. And with every second passing, I
could feel my heart pound harder in my chest.
Then he opened his mouth and began to let out this guttural.
Moan it was Deep Quiet and alien, ignoring the Primal
voice, screaming to get out of there and quick.
I gave a look to the animal standing more still than the
Deep Pine beside. It illuminated Only By the Light
of the truck cab. It was a howl.
I rationalized dogs do that for the first time in.
God knows how long I took my eyes away from the Treeline and
onto the clock. I kept on my Dash before I could
even make out the numbers on the clock.
I saw in my peripherals something that sent fear down to
the core of my heart, I slowly turned my head and as if to
confirm the feelings of horror my whole body turned to ice,
Upright, on my two legs and without breaking the Lear, it
gave me it again, began to vocalize where it let out in the
same jarring tone. Have it spoke with long pauses
between the letters and it stretched out the vowels in that
moment, no matter how big I was, or the size of the truck, a
primal feeling of being some animals.
Pray, struck every bone in my body.
I slammed my door shut, as it sounded out the word.
You as though, he clocked in on my Escape, Plan it began making
its way towards with its two back legs.
Not once taking those eyes off me, it leaned back and forth.
As it stepped increasingly upping, the speed I finally took
Heat Of The Voice screaming at me to run and press the
Monstrous car to the highest speed.
It could go and though, I expected it dread still wormed
its way through me. As I saw, the animal in pursuit
in my rearview albeit, slow enough to give me enough time to
stop at a motel and collect my thoughts.
That's where I'm at now. I writing this I'm watching and
waiting in case that thing figures out how to open doors.
I don't think regular human beings are prepared to come
face-to-face with what was what is, and what is to come all in
the same. Teary-eyed naive thoughtless
gaze. It's too much for our small
minds to handle. I think I've experienced that
once or twice in this lifetime, taking a michigander and
shipping him off to a foreign land where nobody knows anything
about. You, except your last name and
rank, can be overwhelming to say the least.
It may be nihilistic of me to think so.
But listening to the sounds of artillery, rip your friends to
shreds hearing them call for God their mother or any other
variety of final requests they may make.
Knowing their demise is nearing with every second, puts the
value of individual lives in perspective, by the time, the
black suits and billionaires decided the fighting was done
and I was sent home, I had nothing but a small Satchel of
personal effects used, battle rags and Nightmares.
I had Forgotten what it was like not to sleep on four-hour,
intervals. Trading time with a fearful
wide-eyed kid from the Bronx or a too-cool-for-school black kid
from the south. With the occasional appearance
by the freckle-faced kid from down the street that enlisted
with you hoping, he wouldn't die alone in a trench full of
strangers, which of course he did.
Either way, I made it home in one piece on the morning of July
26th, 1959, 15 years after my return, home from the Pacific.
My Me hands making the ink of the morning paper.
Bleed onto the countertop as I stood wide-eyed taking in the
absolute horror of a story that I had found nestled between the
personal ads and the sports section.
It would be a falsehood for me to say the small voice in my
head wasn't pleading to the universe.
That it was Fiction with every word.
My brain, tried desperately to process as I scoured the story.
Which stretched nearly the entire page, a new recurring
column, perhaps, as if the world wasn't full of enough horror, Or
at least for the working class, Joe's like myself.
The story detailed, the gruesome journeyings of a couple of green
naive kids from my hometown according to the story on August
16th 1936, a Sunday. The boys were experiencing the
standard end of summer blues and wanted to finally do something
daring more daring than sneaking out or making prank calls like
most 15 year old boys do on that day.
These two young men decided to poke around one of the two
abandoned Copper mines. Located on the outskirts of my
hometown copper Hollow Michigan. The town was cleverly named for
the copper mines, which were first discovered by miners from
the Northeast who followed the large river.
That ran through my town down South the mines provided a huge
economic, boom for the area and copper Hollow quickly, sprawled
into what it is today, which is still a small town by most
people's standards, unfortunately, for the mining
industry, both of the mines were closed down in the early aughts.
It's under circumstances that rang mysteriously to say the
least, I remember my father, telling me at the time that a
lot of the miners were getting sick, not from the mining
itself, but from something else down there, a lot of the guys
that descended into the sprawling depths of the mines,
came back different to say the least, many of them would be
committed to the Asylum up in Traverse City, but even more
would just starve themselves to death without the courage to
kill themselves. Off quickly and with too much
fear to continue living. My father said that it was all a
bunch of ghost stories to keep people out of the mines.
Officially many thought, the workers went on strike being
minors at the time made very little and never returned.
Others thought the copper ran dry, many, that were close to
the workers who were laid off at the time of the mines, closing,
all claimed that there were other far more powerful and
Sinister things at play that forced its closure.
Nevertheless, the mining ceased and the formerly mineral-rich
ground was sealed forever or so I thought, according to the
article, the workers in a crazed boarded up all of the entrances.
Except for one, this specific Mineshaft was one of the first
to be closed down and was forgotten when the rest were
sealed up. I remembered the initial story
back in the 30s, almost immediately.
It was unclear to the authorities which of the two
boys, decided to convince the other to explore the about
abandoned mine or which one of them objected if they objected
at all, if you're superstitious like me, the first thing, you'd
wonder is what possessed these two young boys, who grew up
hearing about how dangerous the mines were, and how Eerie the
circumstances of their closing were to one day, decide to
venture into their Abyssal depths The article went on to
recap from its initial story that despite the best efforts of
law enforcement, of course, only one of the two boys, a kid named
Billy McKinnon, a young Irish fellow a few years younger than
myself, made it safely back to the surface, the child was
immediately rushed to the Asylum. 50 miles, north of here,
for questioning babbling on about some of the most
horrifying, things you've ever heard from the beginning, they
tried their best to pin a murder on Billy, the case had two major
problem, The first being that no corpse was ever found.
And the second being that police were convinced by the insane
babblings that he made from the moment of his capture that he
not only didn't know where he was or what he was doing but
didn't hold the mental capacity necessary to stand trial for
murder. They shipped him off to the
asylum in Traverse City where he remained until today, the story
indicated that, after all this time, after years of authorities
from multiple agencies, contacting him try.
To get closure for the Jacobs family.
A family I'd known through other acquaintances, he had finally
decided to come forward with his portion of the story to clear
his name and agreed to finally speak to authorities.
A week after reading the article, I ran into a family
friend of mine by the name of Archie.
Rucker. Now, a detective who informed
me, he was in the fluorescent Laden room when the now 38
year-old Billy was being questioned.
Initially, according to Archie, Billy seemed too scared to talk.
But once pressured, he gave a full account of the events that
took place and even now I find it hard to comprehend.
Exactly what Archie told me was said to make sure they got
everything they brought in a stenographer.
From downstate near Mount Pleasant.
I think under the table, Archie sent me a copy of the
transcript. This is what they were able to
type out between the Babbling and groaning from McKinnon on
the morning of August 16th 1936. My best friend in the whole
world, Alex Jacobs. And myself decided that we were
bored to us. We were far more bored than any
of the other kids in the neighborhood, whose parents had
spent hundreds of dollars on toys vacations and expensive,
frozen dessert. It's to beat the heat of the
midwestern summer. We were broke with only a few
cents for the occasional Coca-Cola, a couple of comic
books, a deck of worn playing cards, and the type of vivid at
times explicit, imagination, that ranged from deciding
whether the Three Stooges or pop, I would win in a fight to
observing how much bigger Laura Crowley's chest had gotten over
the last year, boy, stuff in the shadow of the morning.
Sun, we talked over the activities for the day beginning
with riding our bikes along the same.
Trails of the Town Square, buying an ice cream.
Soda from the creepy corner store owner.
They see everyday for groceries, anyhow, strolling the park or
doing something different. Something fun, something
dangerous. Honestly, a part of me wanted to
one-up Alex on the toughness scale and Another Part Of Me
didn't understand what we were agreeing to or understand the
powers that be that aligned our Destinies on this sunny perfect
morning. Regardless somehow, we agreed to
explore one of the abandoned copper.
Mine's a former source of prosperity, peace and happiness,
that slowly turned into a cesspool of Legend and mystery.
The first mine was out of the question, unlike the haphazard
exit of the second mine, the first had been demolished using
Dynamite when it was shut down to avoid anyone ever entering
plus that mine didn't come with the shock Factor.
The second mine had the second. Mine was the one that carried
the stories of ancient power, political and economic
corruption and the Allure of a He's daring Adventure.
I'm sure you can understand that.
A lot of this is a blur to me. I don't remember which but one
of us decided on the 2nd and the other quickly, agreed, the
Forgotten entrance, we decided to use was a long time, hang out
of some of the older teenagers ne'er-do-wells and miscreants
for as long as I can remember. On this particular day, the
entrance to the mine was untouched and unguarded, which
left a perfect opportunity for us to not only enter the mine
unbothered but also unseen an undetected.
By the watchful eye of anyone who would try to stop us.
If they saw us the entrance to the mine began small enough that
we had to duck to get inside. But then opened up into a large
towering Cavern lined, with railroad ties, rope and Nails,
the diameter of a dollar piece, a sturdy piece of architecture.
To be sure. My father is a steel worker.
So I stole a couple of his big flashlights to make sure we
didn't go in blind. I knew he wouldn't miss them.
We wouldn't be gone that long when I first entered the mine
turned on the flashlight and looked around.
I felt the eagerness of a child on his first Christmas.
My eyes ran rampant across the fixtures of rock and wood,
beams, taking in every inch of the caverns memorizing their
position, taking everything in. This was in part driven by the
fear of getting lost in the unexplored territory and part
eagerness to find the next portion of the tunnel that led
deeper into the mine. Alex was the first to find the
next tunnel to the left of where we entered in a seemingly
obvious part of the cavern, he approached it first slowly
flashing, his light inside to illuminate, even if ever so
slightly the path ahead, and he entered with Extreme Caution to
explore the next room. I followed him closely feeling a
lump in the back of my throat. It was very odd being that, I
didn't necessarily feel fear, but I knew, I had no idea where
the tunnel LED. Along the tunnel floor.
There, lay pickaxes, barrels of safety equipment, rope and
crates of rock that appeared to contain a shiny or I thought to
myself at that moment it was a bit peculiar.
Even if the miners rushed out to leave the equivalent of
unclaimed money laying in the halls of the mine shaft.
But honestly, I didn't think too much beyond that the tunnel seem
to go on forever. It felt like we were walking for
ages, my feet began to get tired and I felt the overwhelming urge
to ask a X to turn back and leave with me at that moment.
I felt a stronger urge to continue exploring.
It reminded me a lot. Like the anticipation of going
on a vacation or to a football game.
Something that I'd looked forward to for a long time.
As we enter deeper into the mine without thinking about it.
I felt the ceiling gets shorter and shorter.
This continued until we were waddling, like ducks along the
floor of the tunnel. Finally, the tunnel opened up
into a large Stone room. The walls.
Al's were smoothed down as if it were intentionally built at the
end of this tunnel. What was odd and unsettling to
say, the least was the lack of edge to anything in the room.
Even the corners, that led to the floor, had a rounded Edge to
them. And even more the entire room
seemed to be made of one solid Stone, Alex.
And I both stared in awe at the room around us.
And it took us a moment to finally realize that at the far
end of the room, lay a large Stone structure.
We slowly. Which did initially thinking it
was some sort of makeshift break area for the miners, but it
wasn't, it was unlike anything I'd ever seen before.
It was clearly much older than the mines and truthfully much
older than anything I'd ever seen in real life.
It reminded me of some of the ancient Egyptian and Mayan
structures. You'd see in National
Geographic, I walked toward the base of the structure and I saw
something that even now is extremely odd.
There was a large book like the kind you see in the library that
has old newspapers in it. The great big books.
This one was different though instead of the standard brown
cloth, binding, this book was very ornate, the book itself was
bound in a leather of some kind, unlike anything I had ever seen
before it was black in color but contained Sparkles with in it,
like the kind of metallic paint. You see on a car it was
Mesmerizing the odd. Part wasn't the book itself.
Interestingly enough. The odd part was that Even
though the book was clearly very old, perhaps hundreds of years
old, there wasn't a speck of dust on it.
It appeared to be brand-new, I slowly lifted.
The heavy cover open and shined my light on the pages written
over and over on every page for the entirety of the book, were
the words written in a dark black ink, the great dreamers,
rain is near, be ready. As the book went on the writing
became fainter and fainter as if someone sat down in front of the
book and wrote out this phrase over and over in one sitting as
if they were running out of ink suddenly towards the end the ink
changed it went from a dark black to a deep viscous red.
I quickly shut the book in horror after that, I didn't know
what to think. The thought of being in the cold
dark Cavern, it was like, I was feeling the tension of thousands
of years, of ritual and Supernatural.
All occurrences, weighing me down began to make my blood run
cold. Everyone had heard stories of
mysterious beings and energies dwelling deep within the mine
and this seemed to confirm that it's very easy to see how
horrifying it would have been to be in that place now.
But in that moment it felt like every second of my life, led me
to this moment. This Moment of clarity, this
moment of understanding this moment of finally realizing my
greatest purpose It was like I'd wanted to be here my entire life
though. I knew in the back of my mind
that wasn't true as we stood there for a moment in the
complete silence and Solitude of the underground Cavern suddenly
Alex got my attention and directed it towards the ceiling
where an even larger structure, jutted out from the wall,
creating a large Effigy, The Carving.
Even now I have a hard time. Describing, if you were to ask
me what I saw, I would say that I saw the head of a large black
squid. To a human body with black scaly
skin, posed as if climbing, through the wall towards us,
it's arms were stretched wide as if almost embracing those in the
room the eyes were what terrified me the most?
They were burning red searing as if they could see into my very
Soul on the walls around us, we began to notice further carvings
which created the impression of wings for a moment.
Just a moment in the dark. I could have sworn.
I saw it breathe even now, Now, I wonder if I saw anything at
all or if my mind tried desperately to fill the void of
some traumatic event or some, underlying fear that I carried
with me into the cavern. Another Part Of Me knows for
certain exactly what I saw there.
We stood and marveled at the sheer architectural feat that
the Effigy was for a moment, it felt like we could stand there.
Forever taking in every painstakingly carved out, detail
of the Effigy out of nowhere, my ears began to focus on a sound
coming from behind the stone. It sounded like the slow drip of
a tap that wasn't completely shut off.
I saw Alex. Look in the same direction I was
and flash his light. That way we walked around toward
the back of the structure using our hands to guide us along the
smooth cold Limestone towards the source of the dripping, as
we made our way around, there was a small opening in the Rock
smooth to a round Edge, that led to a large staircase, the only
right angles in the place that led down into a dark abyss.
Ex and I looked at each other, both of us, scared out of our
minds. No turning back.
Now, Alex said his voice, calm and confident.
Contrasting completely from his scared, timid nature that I had
become familiar with over the course of our friendship.
We nodded to one another and slowly made our descent into the
depths of the Abyss. Our flashlights at this point,
were no help as they only seem to show the next ten, stairs or
so. We took each step slowly
carefully. Never a step out of place.
In the quick glances, I took at the walls of the staircase.
I noticed the same characterization of the Effigy
above in various scenes, the one I remember best was one of the
Effigy coming out of a large body of water.
I don't remember more than that but I know they lined the entire
staircase. At this point we had been
climbing down deep underground for what felt like forever.
If I had to guess, I would I think we went down at least ten
to twelve Stories. The dripping seem to get louder
and louder until it was almost like the sound of a waterfall,
finally Halls of the staircase opened up to a slightly larger
room smaller than the first Cavern.
But with the same smooth stone walls in the center was a pool
of water. Maybe six or seven feet in
diameter with a slow soft drip coming from the ceiling dropping
into it. Making the sound from here, the
dripping sounded much calmer much softer than in the Case, we
had traversed, we approach the pool and shined our lights
inside. It was the most beautiful, Clear
Water I'd ever seen at this depth.
It even had a, slight blue hue to it.
Like the ocean, Alex, seemed much more enthralled by it than
I, but it was extremely beautiful.
The longer I looked at it. The more I wanted to touch the
immaculate Blue Water suddenly, I became thirsty thirstier than
I'd felt my entire life. I'd have given anything for a
Coke from the creepy Corner Store at the end of the block or
In the lukewarm water from the hose at home, but I knew, I knew
for sure that the best water in the world was in that pool, my
long pasty white fingers, slowly drifted down towards the water
to retrieve a drink for myself, as they slowly daringly
approached, the feelings of desire for the water only grew,
but before I could take a drink, Alex quickly, placed both of his
hands, making a bowl out of them into the cold, Dark Water,
pulled them up and drank. Alex paused for a moment.
His eyes wide and he began to quickly gulp down the water.
Like an animal. I didn't know what to do.
Yes, the water looked good. And yes, I wanted to drink it.
I don't know what it was about. Seeing him drink, the dark blue
cave water, but it made all desires to drink.
The water fade away as if they never happened.
In the first place, all I could feel in that moment was dread.
It felt like I was waiting for something horrible to happen.
It's like watching a horror movie Waiting for the inevitable
entrance of a monster in the form of a jump-scare, but this
time a monster didn't come I couldn't watch him drink anymore
and turned away in place of a monster.
And I know this will sound crazy.
A voice began to speak inside my head for a moment.
I had to convince myself that it wasn't my own thoughts, but the
thoughts of another more powerful force.
The voice was deep Gravely and sounded like a demon.
If You put it through a distortion machine, like they
use for movies and in recording studios, the tone of the voice
was somber and absolute with the level-headed delivery that you'd
expect talking to a deity. Did you hear that?
I asked, Alex, my eyes veering back to him for the first time
since he drank the water. Alex was staring into the pool.
Unmoving, his attention focused completely on something moving
in the water. Alex, are you okay, silence?
This isn't funny. Alex, we need to go, I got up to
leave and he grabbed my wrist with strength.
I've never seen from him before he pulled me back to the
kneeling position. I had taken up next to the pool
and turn to lock eyes with me, but they weren't his eyes.
His eyes were a black void avoid that, I can only likened to that
of the backdrops of movies that take place in space, absolute
nothingness. No, emotion, no empathy.
Just an endless void. Did you understand what the
Great. Old one said, Billy.
Who, what are you talking about? You heard the voice.
I replied in this Shrine. The great dreamer.
Slumber has been interrupted, Alex?
You're scaring me. I it was at that moment that I
noticed the long thick rope like tentacles sticking out of the
back of Alex's head. It was surrounded by a steady
stream of crimson blood in a Flash.
Alex's body was plunged into the pool, the entirety of him
disappearing into its cold depths.
I looked deep into the Water Frozen in fear, trying to find
any signs of life. Just as quick as he went into
the water. I saw something begin to float
towards the top of the pool. I slowly peered over the edge to
get a better look. And suddenly I was face-to-face
with my best friend frantically trying to swim to the surface.
I screamed for him. Oh how I screamed for him when
he finally looked like he was about to Crest the surface.
He stopped, it was like he ran into a plate of glass.
He started to bang his Hands against it.
And it was clear, he couldn't get through.
I wanted so desperately to just reach in and grab him to rescue
him to save him. I wanted with everything in my
heart, Body Mind, and Spirit to help my friend out of that pool
and to leave that place forever. I sat there Frozen willing, my
body to move willing myself to reach in grab his hand and end.
This horrible Adventure. We had so innocently begun
together but could end with his death His knocks became fainter
and fainter and I watched in horror as he fell deeper Into
the Depths as he descended into the darkness of the pit below.
I could make out the faintest outline of a tentacle wrapping
around him dragging him down to his demise.
A lot of what happened after that is a blur.
I don't know if I screamed cried or did nothing at all.
I don't remember how long it took me to Traverse the
staircase back to the large Cavern.
But when I reached the top is when I began to regain my full.
Awareness of my surroundings. As I turned the corner around
the large Stone structure. That led us to the staircase in
the first place. I came face-to-face with a room
of 20 or more hooded individuals.
Each holding a Gas Lantern, a flame enough for me to see the
dark Black Metallic fabric of their robes.
Adorned with golden sashes, they began to chant in the same
language. I had heard in my head in the
cavern below and I prepared to meet a similar demise to my
friend, their tone was not that of a hostile.
Force, nor that of a friendly one.
Their tone was almost fearful yet, calm, and accepting like
the prayers of a convict, on their way to The Gallows.
I slowly began to make my way around the outside of the room.
Following the wall to the entrance.
Alex. And I had used to enter the
cavern once I found it, I ran as fast as I could down the tunnel
toward the large cave. We first entered through.
When I finally got there, after what felt like ages of running
my eyes found the tunnel with the Light pouring into it, my
heart jumped, as I quickly traversed it to the surface as I
felt the crisp open air, reach me, I closed my eyes to Shield
them from the afternoon sun. The clouds had passed my eyes,
slowly began to adjust to the outside my vision, beginning to
darken, as I normalize the world outside of the mine, the
horrible sight that my eyes saw as they opened can only be
explained as demonic and unnatural when I opened my eyes,
I saw nothing but long Green Pastures.
And that stretched for Miles Beyond where my hometown.
Once stood gone were the streets, the cars, the
buildings, and most frightening, of all the people above me, the
sun was moving, across the sky at a rate.
I could perceive with the naked eye much faster than usual as
night came the moon moved faster across the sky.
The days began to fade by quicker and quicker.
Turning into months and years all before my very eyes, I began
to see structures emerge from the ground blurs of people.
Rolling around the new structures, the emergence of
technology and my hometown returning to the state.
It was when I left it I felt like it seemed to freeze in that
time for just a moment before the Sun and the Moon became even
faster. The Stars moving.
So quickly that the sky became White with Starlight at once
when the copper Hollow that I knew, and had grown up in had
died away with only the bones remaining and new silver
structures lining. It's freshly paved City like
streets, the curbs line. With small spaceship like
Vehicles. The sky faded once again to dusk
and stopped to my right along the river, the wide expanse of
the river began to move as a large.
Horrifying being emerged from its depths, I can picture it.
So vividly, yet the words to describe it are unknown to me, I
don't think that humans are ever supposed to see anything like
that, unless it's the last thing they ever see.
The only thing I remember was a large black mass shiny scaly
skin. Claws and a face of tentacles,
but most of all the huge, blue and green eyes.
The article concluded that just as Billy McKinnon was,
describing the horrible sight of the Ferocious being.
He saw emerging from the river on the date.
In question, he suffered a massive heart attack and died
within seconds with the New Evidence, the police decided to
search the mine again, using Billy's account as a roadmap to
Alex's last known whereabouts. They found the large Cavern that
Billy talked about, but the book in The Carving were missing as
they descended into the staircase, just where Billy
said, it was behind a corner of rock.
They found the pool next to the pool with rope wrapped around
his neck, was the body of Alex Jacobs still wearing the same
clothes. He was reported to be wearing
when he disappeared in 1936 every inch of the corpse was
inexplicably soaking wet a part of me wonders.
If they heard a mysterious voice all their lives slowly
whispering. To their deepest, recesses to
convince them to venture in perhaps they were able to hold
off such calls into the voids of the mind for years.
They're impressionable State as very young children allowing
them to buy into their parents please to never enter their but
no longer perhaps some ancient Force existed beneath the mines
long before the first humans set foot in this land.
Perhaps it was always meant to stay hidden within the hills and
mountains but the minor somehow discovered.
It and released it. If Billy is, right, there is no
stopping the force that lies in the depths of that mine shaft or
any other forces. Like it, that have operated all
around us for millions of years. From my very temporary short.
Existence, it can be easy to infer that.
If after all this time, they've laid dormant outside of those
few outliers who choose to tamper with it, that it will not
threaten our species even if we were to threaten their
incomprehensible power out, right?
The only path that Young naive species as a whole can go down
like Billy and Alex will lead to the entirety of our
Consciousness. Screaming into a nun, answering
void begging for the release of death and the Blissful ignorance
of such unknowable unimaginable Horrors, that await within the
black and difference of the universe beyond the entities
there by their very existence alone.
Praying on the deepest darkest, fears of our race fears that are
so locked away deep within the fabric of our reality, Ality
that we cannot pretend to understand or comprehend them.
It was just another ordinary evening when I clocked out from
the factory, Warren from the day's labor, the air was brisk.
A premonition of the approaching Autumn.
As I made my way to my rusty pickup, eager for the warmth of
my home in the comfort of my bed.
Driving along the winding roads. The countryside was as silent as
the grave save for the crunching gravel under my tires, and the
low hum of the radio, playing old country songs.
It was a drive. I'd taken countless times before
a lullaby in its familiarity. The cloak of Darkness felt
comforting the loneliness of the road.
A respite from the world's chaos and then I saw it out of
nowhere. It appeared in the beam of my
headlights, standing eerily still at the side of the road.
A deer. At first, I felt a jolt of
surprise followed by relief just a deer.
A common sight in these parts. But as my eyes locked with its
own, a chill, ran down my spine, its eyes were not the simple
innocent orbs of a forest creature, but something far more
haunting. They were startlingly human
filled with an inexplicable depth that Drew me in.
As I slowed, the pickup half expecting it to Dart away, it
did something that made my heart thunder in my chest with An
uncanny Grace it Rose Standing Tall on its hind legs.
Its gaze. Never leaving mine.
My breath hitched, as I stared at the spectacle before me my
mind racing to make sense of the impossible scene.
Was it a trick of the light or maybe fatigue playing games with
my perception. A deer standing on its hind
legs, my tired brain struggled to comprehend, but there it was
a silhouette illuminated by my headlights as real, as the cold
leather of my steering wheel. I reached for my phone.
My hands trembling by the time I fumbled the switch on the
camera, the deer had dropped on all fours and disappeared into
the darkness. I sat there heart pounding, the
echo of that haunting gaze, still imprinted in my mind.
Finally, I shook myself out of my days, the radios crooning
suddenly loud in the silent cab. I drove home the image of the
upright, dear flickering in my rearview mirror.
I told myself it was fatigued playing tricks on me.
I was just tired. Worked.
My mind was seeing things that weren't there yet, as I turned
the key to my front door, the cold biting at my fingertips, I
couldn't shake off the feeling that what I'd seen was real, I
locked the door behind me, the house eerily silent and looked
out the window into the dark night out there somewhere.
Was that dear and with a chill that had nothing to do with the
cold, I realized my comfortable familiar, world was no longer
the same and sleep when it came. I'm was filled with dreams of
hauntingly human eyes and a deer Standing Tall on its hind, legs
days, turned into weeks. And the memory of the dear was a
persistent ghost. At the back of my mind, I tried
to dismiss it, tried to bury it under the monotony of work and
the familiarity of home. I convinced myself, it was
nothing more than a product of exhaustion, but the universe had
other plans One evening as I was returning home from the factory.
I saw it again, it's silhouette outlined by the Setting Sun
standing at the edge of the woods, bordering my home, my
heart sank, as it slowly stood on, its hind legs, just as it
had that night, the world seemed to hold its breath.
And in that suspended silence, I felt my pulse quickened, the
deers gaze found mine, its eyes, burning into me with a strange
intensity fear gripped, me in its cold embrace, it wasn't a
Rick of my tired mind. It was real, but how could it be
the deers presence became a dark constant in my life.
It began to appear more often, not only by the roadside, but
within the confines of my safe familiar world, I would catch
glimpses of it. Lurking at the periphery of my
yard, it's eyes, eerily reflecting the Moonlight.
It would be there when I woke in the early hours standing
unnaturally on its hind legs watching my house from a
distance, it was even in my Eames its presence, punctuating
my Restless sleep. It didn't behave like any dear,
I knew it didn't startle, it sudden movements or run away
when I attempted to approach it. It just watched me, it's eyes
filled with an unnerving intelligence.
It was, as if it knew me, understood me in ways, I
couldn't comprehend. People started to notice my
distress, my colleagues would ask.
If I was okay, commenting on my pallor and the dark circles.
Under my eyes, my friends questioned me about my
distracted state. Eight, when we met at the local
bar, I tried to express my fears but how could I explain it?
How could I put into words, the irrational Terror of a deer
Standing Tall on its hind legs, it was ludicrous.
So I laughed it off, attributing it to work stress and lack of
sleep, but inside I was anything.
But all right, the line between my mundane reality and The
Surreal presence of the deer was blurring each day was a battle
between trying to forget and the fear of its next appearance at
Night I would lie. Awake staring out my bedroom
window at the shadowy forest line, my heart pounding with
each rustle of the leaves. My world had narrowed down to
the anticipation and Terror of my next encounter with the deer.
And so, the very thing I had considered a hallucination had
invaded, my reality, my home. My Sanctuary was under siege by
a creature. I didn't understand it.
Sighs. Haunted, my waking hours and
infiltrated my dreams making me question.
In everything I had believed about the world and myself the
silent Watcher in the night. Was there always there?
Like a specter in the Twilight and with each encounter, I felt
myself being pulled deeper into the heart of the mystery.
Little did I know the real nightmare was just beginning my
life once. So, unremarkable, simple had
spiraled into a Restless Obsession.
The deer had turned from an unusual Spectre into my living
nightmare. Its presence seemed to seep into
my daily routines. The Couple Terror of it, gnawing
at my sanity sleep. Had become an elusive friend.
Every Creek of the old house, every rustle of the wind against
the windows would jolt me awake. My heart pounding with the
thought, was it outside? Was it watching nights
transformed into an exhausting, vigil, my eyes glued to the
shadowy expanse of the woods searching for its silhouette
work suffered as well. My hands once steady in a short
on the factory floor now. I trembled subtly concentration
was a thing of the past, my thoughts, invariably drifted
towards the Enigma that had invaded my world.
The camaraderie of my colleagues turned into concerned, Whispers
And questioning glances relationship strained.
My friends, couldn't understand the sudden change my constant
distraction. My reluctance to join them for
our customary, Friday night drinks, even my family grew
worried, my mother's voice, usually filled with
light-hearted chatter during our weekly calls.
Taken on a tinge of worry. I wanted to tell them wanted to
spill out my fears, but the words wouldn't come.
It was ridiculous. I knew a man haunted by a deer,
the absurdity of it would surely invite laughter or Worse concern
about my mental state. So I bottled it up plastered on
a fake smile and assured, everyone that I was just tired,
a little stressed from work, but in the Solitude of my home, I
was a prisoner of my fear. I began to research.
It for an explanation. I devoured articles about deer
Behavior reached out to local hunters, even posted on online
forums narrating. My experiences under the veil of
anonymity but nothing explained the deers peculiar Behavior,
it's unnatural stance, it's unsettling intelligence.
If anything my attempts to find answers only heightened my
anxiety in my desperation. I installed cameras around my
property. I thought if I could record it
get tangible proof maybe I could find a way.
To deal with it. So I spent countless hours
watching, grainy footage, my heart, jumping at the smallest
movement, yet the deer eluded my attempts to document.
It, it seemed aware of the cameras, its appearance as
growing, less frequent and always just out of Clear Sight.
It was as if it was mocking me playing a cruel game with my
sanity. I was sinking deeper into a pit
of paranoia and Obsession. My reality was blurring the
lines between my mundane existence and the supernatural
presence of the deer growing Increasingly obscure.
I was losing myself to fear each passing day, chipping away at my
resolve, as the shadows of my once peaceful home grew longer,
I realized I was spiraling. The once dismissive fear had
grown into a full-fledged paranoia.
I was living a waking nightmare my life.
A strange dance with a dear. And as the knights grew darker.
So did my fear the chilling anticipation of my next
encounter with the deer? A constant Terror gnawing at the
edges of my sanity. My life had become a twisted
echo of its former self. The Familiar humdrum of factory
noises the comfortable Solitude of my home.
The hearty laughter of friends, all were now distant smothered
under the heavy shadow of my obsession, the dear, my silent
Tormentor had consumed, my every waking thought.
And the dream filled sleep that occasionally came was filled
with visions of its haunting eyes.
There were times I found myself questioning my sanity was I
hallucinating Was my tired mind Conjuring this Eerie Apparition,
making me dance on the strings of my own fraying sanity.
I would stand before the mirror staring into my Haggard
reflection searching for a hint of Madness in my own eyes.
But all I could see was fear raw, visceral fear of the
unknown. It was a chilling, realization
understanding that. I had become obsessed with a
creature. I had initially dismissed as an
illusion of fatigue. The once passive dread had
morphed into an active Pursuit, my life revolving around, And my
next encounter with the dear, I continued to pour over articles
and forums the blue light of the screen becoming my constant
companion during sleepless nights.
I turned my home into a fortress investing in more surveillance
equipment, mapping out, the deers possible routes and trying
to predict Its Behavior. It felt like I was chasing
Shadows my attempts to understand to rationalize to
somehow control the situation only led to more frustration.
The deer always seemed once Up ahead as if it was aware of my
desperate attempts but the terrifying ordeal was not just
the deer or it's unnatural Behavior.
It was the transformation of my own self.
The man, I was becoming in the face of this inexplicable
Terror. The constant dread the insomnia.
The paranoia they were reshaping me sculpting a new version of
myself that I barely recognized in my desperation for answers.
Foreclosure, I made a decision. I had to confront it face it.
Head on On, it was a terrifying. Thought meeting the source of my
fears in the flesh but the idea also held a glimmer of hope.
Maybe this could end my nightmare.
My days were spent preparing for the encounter.
I gathered tools flashlight, a knife for protection and a
courage. I wasn't sure.
I had I meticulously planned. Charting out the ideal location
and time based on my previous encounters.
At night, I laid awake. My mind filled with countless
scenarios. Each more terrifying than the
last. I saw myself standing in front
of the dear. It's human-like eyes, staring
into mine, it's body, towering on, hind legs, the thought, made
my skin crawl, but I clung on to it, this was my fight, my chance
to reclaim my life. As the day of Confrontation
neared, a strange, calm descended upon me.
My fear didn't listen, but it mutated into a constant
pulsating. Head, like a second heartbeat.
I had no idea what I was walking into, no certainty of what I'd
find and the prospect was terrifying yet amid.
The swirling chaos of fear and anticipation a thought
persisted. Perhaps my obsession, my
Relentless Pursuit was not just about the fear of the unknown
But A desperate plea for understanding understanding the
deer, understanding my own fear and ultimately understanding
myself. As the night of the
confrontation, descended my heart pounded.
A war drum in my chest. The Familiar landscape of my
home, felt alien under the moonlit Sky.
Each Shadow seemed to stretch longer, each sound, echoed
louder. And within me fear, wrestled
with resolve armed with a flashlight in a knife grip.
Tightly in my hands, I stepped outside.
The cool are laced with an electric tension every crunch of
the gravel under my boots. Felt Amplified each rustle of
leaves a hard Ginger of the coming encounter.
I made my way towards the woods, the beam of my flashlight,
cutting through the inky Darkness, the trees, stood
silent, like spectral, Spectators to my, trembling
courage, as I tread deeper into the quiet, my senses were
heightened each Shadow and sound a possible sign of the deers
presence and then I saw it it stood at the edge of the
clearing. It's form cloaked in darkness
yet unmistakable the deer I froze.
My heart threatening to LEAP out of my chest as it slowly lifted
onto its hind legs. In the face of my nightmare, my
fear gave way to a strange sense of awe.
It was a chilling sight, the deer standing upright a
silhouette against the muted, Moonlight its eyes found mine, a
pair of glowing orbs filled with an intelligence that unnerved
me. I approached each step,
deliberate and slow. The deer remains, still its
gaze, never leaving mine, a part of me wanted to flee.
To escape the terror that wrapped around me like a shroud,
but I held on pushing through the icy tendrils of fear.
Why? I found my voice my words, but a
whisper against the quiet night. Why are you doing this?
The deer didn't react. It just watched me.
It's eyes burning into mine with an intensity that sent shivers
down my spine. I was close now, close enough to
see the heaving flanks of the deer, the dusting of frost on.
It's fur. I stretched a trembling hand.
Breath hitching, as I touched the cold reality of my fear.
It was a surreal moment touching the creature that had turned my
life into a waking nightmare. It's fur was rough against my
fingers, its body solid. And real Beneath My Touch yet,
it's standing posture. Its gaze.
They were as in comprehensible as ever, the deer didn't Flinch
didn't Retreat, it just stood there watching me with those
unnerving eyes. My hand resting on its body, it
was as if it had been waiting for This waiting for me, as I
stood there, my fear, receding into a sea of unanswered
questions. I realized I was a part of
something, greater, something beyond my comprehension, my
fear, my obsession had led me to this.
A strange communion with a creature of the night.
I didn't get any answers. No closure or understanding.
My confrontation didn't solve the mystery.
It only deepened. It wrapping me tighter and it's
Enigma. But as I turned to leave, Hand
lingering on the deer before. Finally retracting I felt a
strange piece. I was still terrified still lost
in the Labyrinth of my experience but I had faced my
fear touched it looked at in the eyes and that in itself was a
victory days turned into weeks. And then months yet the mystery
remained unsolved. My life was no longer the same
everyday held a silent anticipation, an underlying
tension. The unvoiced question.
When would I see the Here again but the deer didn't reappear.
It's haunting presence. Once a constant Shadow had
vanished leaving behind a chilling.
Absence my home return to its peaceful Solitude the forest by
my house. Merely a backdrop to my ordinary
existence, no longer the stage for my midnight encounters but I
was changed the terror had etched deep scars on my psyche,
the residue of fear and undercurrent in my everyday
life. The dear, even in its absence
continue to exist Within Me. Minor of my descent into
Obsession and my confrontation with the inexplicable.
My colleagues noticed the change.
I was more withdrawn. My usual jovial demeanor
replaced with a quiet introspection.
They attributed it to work stress.
Never knowing the true reason behind my transformation.
I didn't correct them. It was easier to let them
believe the mundane explanation at night.
I found myself gazing out of the window, my eyes drawn to the
edge of the forest. The deer was gone, but it's
memory was isn't I would stand there lost in the puzzle that
had become my life. The vision of the upright dear
forever etched in my mind, I never understood what the deer
was. Why it behaved the way it did?
Was it a figment of my tired, mind an Undiscovered species or
something? More a bridge between the world
I knew and when I couldn't comprehend, I grappled with
these questions but answers remained elusive, the mystery
was a puzzle with missing pieces and Enigma, that evaded.
Engine, I had to accept that there were things in this world
beyond my understanding experiences that defied
explanation but with acceptance came a certain piece, the fear
that had once consumed me was now a silent companion.
A part of my existence, I had confronted my nightmare lived
through it and survived. The experience had changed me
and transformed my perspective of the world and my place within
it. So life went on, I resumed my 18
and found solace in the familiarity of my job, the
comfort of my home the days turned into a monotonous blend
of ordinary and extraordinary, the memory of the dear, a scar
on the fabric of my normalcy and so my tale ended where it began
on a quiet. Lonely Road under the watchful
eyes of a million stars. I was a man changed shaped by
fear haunted by an experience that defied understanding.
I was left with a memory, a mystery and a terrifying
encounter that would forever remain, an enigma the story of
the man and the deer was over but the echo of its memory would
resonate within me, a haunting Melody to the tune of my changed
life. The unknown still terrified me
but it was now a part of me a chapter in the book of my life
forever imprinted on the pages of my existence.