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I'm a security guard hired to protect an estate, the Forest Has Eyes [Entries 10 to 11]


[Entry 10]


This is it.


I guess I should have known when I stepped out onto the porch after that, surreal experience, inside of the Cazamoth house. Snow’s been setting in now, the fall’s gone, I knew that the second I had to push hard on the front door to get it open. Rosanne took the lead, and broke off for the perimeter wall, said she’d needed to “Convene”.


Whatever that meant.


Isaac and I approached the Europeans as they drove their van through the gate. Swerving and parking it not far from the porch, right side towards us. We must’ve looked like a bunch of crazy militiamen, what with Isaac’s one eyed bearded grizzly adams look, and my walking with body armor and an AR strapped to my chest.


The stocky eastern european man dropping out from the van caught me by surprise, “Isac’!! Comrade!! We’ve brought you supply!!”. Guess we didn’t shake them none.Thankfully, using the emergency credit card that Theodore keeps inside of a false red brick, right side, third up to on the second row, Gareth and Merkel were able to bring use a whole god damn van full of, reassurance.


Theo did say that this was only to be used under extreme circumstances.

After the past few months I’d say we’re well past extreme circumstances.


Gareth opened the back of the trunk as Merkel proudly presented us with the goods. Boxes on boxes on fucking boxes of surplus 5.56, many of which were already pre-loaded into metal magazines. Cost a bit, but it would save us the hours it would take to hand load them all.


On top of that, we’ve got road flares, smoke grenades, canisters specifically marked with an orange diamond. If my munitions knowledge isn’t out of date, best to not play those too close to your literal chest. Shotgun shells of all kinds, and a few new toys. One of which was a slick pistol I’d seen plenty of Special Weapons guys back in Chicago use.


An FN 5.7, chambered in, well, 5.7mm. Might not be as powerful as a desert eagle, but it’s accuracy, and the fact that it can carry 31 damn rounds made me jump at the chance to carry it as a second. Well, technically, a third now.


It was when I was inspecting it, Merkel chimed in while showing Isaac some shells. “So… you two are, working out here, correct?”. Isaac looked over his shoulder at me, I stayed quiet, he was the one with the rapport with these two. Right on queue he cleared his throat “Something like that, you know. Running, gunning, driving a senile witch lady around, shooting creatures in backyards, fighting demons in basements…-”, he then crossed his arms, feeling oh so pleased with himself.: “It’s been an eventful tenure up here at Cazamoth Exterminators Incorporated…”.


Is that the name we’re going for now? I guess it is.


“Shooting….” Merkel, stockier, short one pondered. Gareth spoke, “So… You say you shot these, creatures…”. Isaac nodded, “Not at like, a distant silhouette like the rest of the town’s folk, like, actually seen what lurks in zeh woods?”.


“What do they look like? How many rounds do zeh' take? Are zhere multiple species? Is it-”. Isaac held his hands up, “Listen, fellers… I said we shot at some, I’ll be honest, I don’t know what the fucks going on with this place, even months on, but I know one thing, they took the kid. And we’ve gotta load up and shoot em all to get him back, you feel me?”.


A dark look seemed to grow in their eyes, Gareth looked off, scratching his neck, Merkel crossed his arms. “A child…. Yes, they seem to like to disappear…. How long ago?”. Isaac scratched the back of his head, I gazed at my watch, “Less than a few days…”.


“A…. few days?” Merkel buried his bearded lips in his palm, probably thinking about something. By now I’d gathered a bunch of items in a tough box, dragging it out of the back and heaving it up. “Look, gentlemen, it’s always a pleasure receiving absurd amounts of firepower but…. We have a job to do”. I gave a nod to Isaac and carried it in, as I did, I noticed Rosanne over by the wall, she seemed to be, kneeling.


I knew well enough by now to let her do whatever she needed. God knows what would happen if I disturbed her. Probably would be trapped inside a rock for the rest of my life. Or a tree. Probably a tree.Now or never. Been awhile since I did a full load up on supply, like, a mission style load up. Despite all of the youtube videos and operator channel’s recommendations, I’d be carrying 9 magazines, with a tenth loaded in my AR. 6 on my gut, 3 on my belt. My glock was moved to my left side, as a back up for my back up, incase I found myself really in the shit, which, considering past situations, was likely.


The 5.7 was my new sidearm, Strapped to my thigh on a drop holster. It was around this time I checked the weather, and boy oh boy, it was getting cold.


Like, Georgia cold.

Hate your life cold.


Despite how much I loved it, I ditched my leather jacket, instead sporting a black soft shell, and a beanie. A pair of clear oakleys because, last thing I need is to repeat Isaac’s accident out here. No offense, brother. Stuffing the rest of the magazines, along with a shit ton of smokes for concealment, flares, and incendiaries into my pack, I heaved one strap over my shoulder and headed out.It was by this time, I saw that...1.) the Europeans were still here, Isaac sat on the bed of their van talking to him, though it seemed by the amount of shotgun shell bandoleers he had, he’d done his own kitting out.


And 2.) Rosanne was still over by the wall praying. Was it praying? Meditating? Demon Whispering? I’ll have to ask her.


I waltzed over, dropping my assault pack by the back tire of their van. Isaac whistled, “Dayum Sarge, this how you rolled back in the day?”.


“Not exactly….” It was only mid day, but by now I could see my breath in the icy air. “Then again we aren’t limited by regulations, so, fuck it….”. I eyed Merkel and Gareth, Taking off my oakleys and clipping them to my plate carrier.


“What’re you two still here for? Sun’s gonna be getting low, and you probably know what happens when that happens….”.


Gareth walked to the side of the van facing away, and I could hear one of the side doors slide open. Merkel cracked his neck “Gareth and I were…. Talking…. From what it sounds like, you two, or, tree…” Merkel looked over at Rosanne, his eyes told me he felt uneasy near her: “Have faced best chance again these things… an’, from what it sounds like, you kill some of them, yes?”.


I nodded, he continued “I have sold many guns to many people, not only in this town still, but outsiders, neighbors… family…. Ones who go into these woods, and never come back. Now you said your child has gone and disappeared”. He waved a hand horizontally, “Nyet… Me and Gareth will help you…”.


“Help us?”.


Gareth walked from behind the van, now presenting what he was searching for. He held a large elephant gun, bulky body with a gigantic barrel attached to it. With his other hand, he handed an engraved double barrel shotgun to his partner in soviet crime.


“Yes, help you. Zeh way of my ancestors and your old comrades…”. I knew what he was saying, I nodded, brothers in arms we were then- “Dwight!”.


A voice from behind me so close I could basically feel her on the back of my neck, its then I remembered, brothers and sister in arms…I don’t know how no one saw her approach, since we were in an open lot, midday, and the crunch of the snow would be loud as hell, but Rosanne appeared right at the edge of our semi circle. “Gentlemen... Isaac, After a bit of convening with almost seven deities, I believe I have an educated guess of our next move".


“Educated?” Isaac quipped.


“Surely you picked up on my, relationship with the earth….” It did make sense now that I thought about it, all of the planets, her obsession to stay on shore near the grass, how she always sat near that fake as hell plastic tree in the living room…. “There is a lot wrong with this area… this place, but, whatever we’re currently against, isn’t native”.


Isaac racked his Benelli back, starting to load shells, “Native? Like, Indians?”. Rosanne shook her hand, squeezing her temple.


“No, Isaac- I mean, natural….”.

That didn’t make sense to me “Are you saying a crab walking naked man, or fucking Tim, is natural?”.


Rosanne shrugged, “I don’t know everything, but what I do know is, it’s poisoning this area like a virus…. The ground, the soul of this place, works against it… and to our benefit, it also gives off the direction of it’s source”.


“It’s source?” I asked, now getting the idea. “Yes… I can guide us, although generally, and if we use the heel - toe express, we might be able to get there in time to save John…. If not, we’ll at least be able to stop this-”.


“We’re saving John, Rosanne” I reaffirmed.


“I know you want to Dwight, I’m just saying if things turn out dirty….”.


“Wait, witch-” Gareth perked up, and her ire turned from me, to him. “Rosanne”. “Rosanne…. You v’want us to, what? Walk through zeh damn woods that kidnap people, turn zeir guts into spaghetti, and stop zhis?”.


Rosanne crossed her arms, staring the lanky german down, “You said, you wanted to help. This is what needs to be done. If you’re so scared about walking through the woods, how about you ask my friend over there how he camped in the woods for the last few months….”.


She pointed at Isaac, both looked surprised “Listen, I know it’s not a good option, but it’s the only one. Dwight….”. I looked around at the motley crew, a retired staff sergeant, a one eyed trucker, a fortune teller, and two european arms dealers. It would have to do.


We would need to take take the trail, not only to save time, but since Rosanne’s trail lead north, it’d be a good start. I took the lead, the rest followed in a staggered column type formation. Rosanne was up next to me, pointing out the different shifts and changes in the aura.


We saw all types of tracks, deer, foxes… human, what looked like oversized bird marks… We were nearing tracker 1 when Merkel asked, “So, Soldier, you never told me how tough zhey, are?”. I cracked my neck, my right thumb rubbing the texture of the pistol grip.


“What do you mean?”.

“How do I….. How many bulletz do zhey take? ”.


My mind raced back to the night in the trail, we were near the spot where I was running, rifle in one hand, glock in the other, one of the creatures walked onto the trail, and in my haste, I trigger fingered an entire damn magazine into it, before colliding with it shoulder first… The fall, the mud, my rifle going off and taking a chunk out of a tree.As I ran my hand along the impact mark on that tree while walking, I shrugged, “Depends… although I do know they don’t really like to get shot by anything bigger than nine mil….”.


The two europeans cackled from the back, “Oh don’t worry friend…. We have plenty of that to go around…”.The walk went on for hours, and for the most part, it was uneventful. Maybe it was what transpired in that house, or maybe it was the excessive amount of ordnance dangling off us that caused it, but, the woods stayed quiet.


Not a bird, nor a deer…. Nor a hobgoblin jumping out to eat our faces off, just, silence. Rosanne lead us all the way to the northern pass, where she lead Isaac and the europeans down a light slope. I turned around checking down both pathways, and before we knew it, we were off. Walking into the pure, absolute, unknown.Night time found us quickly, very quickly. Rosanne and I lead the group through the woods, she felt trees as they went by. Running her hands over the bark, the dying leaves of trees and bushes, the sharp pines…. Like every since point of contact spoke to her….I’m not a religious man, but I'm now a superstitious one- especially after all this shit.


One thing is for certain, whatever she was harnessing to lead us, it was real, definitely real.


The winter months were showing their presence loud and clear, by 5pm it was getting dark, the sun was fading away into an orange hue, and we needed to bed down. We found a nice clearing right in the middle of our path, around a 100 meter radius of the woodline, with a slight hill giving us a point to retreat up if we took contact…5 straight hours of walking through the snow, piss break, more walking, Isaac eating shit in the snow and his shotgun going off gutting a small tree, me yelling at him, Gareth and Merkel laughing, more walking, Gareth claiming to see a man of vines following us, Merkel claiming he sees a native american…It was, eventful.


Isaac and the europeans were building a fire in the middle of the clearing, our packs all lined around it. I decided to walk over to the woodline to relieve myself, I saw Rosanne had walked over to a far off oak tree to reach out her palm, and I guess, “convene” with it? I could hear those tree messing around behind me…


“Ya’ll got any matches?”.

“Nyet”.

“Nein”.

“Nine? Well shit give some here…”.

“No you fool, nein, as in no…”.

“Nine is no? So what? Yes-five, two-tomorrow, three-retake the rhineland, Four-The Volka Rive-".


Merkel chimed in “How about we use flare…”.

“Well, I mean shit we dumped a bunch of kerosene, but hey what could go wrong-”.


I was zipping up my pants when a flare of purple light came from behind, I turned around on a dime, hell I even saw Rosanne break her gaze to look. All three dove behind their packs as the flare and lighter fluid erupted into a large ball. She shook her head as I could hear all three of them whooping and hollering as they tossed wood to burn on it, and somehow, strangely, there was a sense of security and joy, in seeing such a large symbol of light in the middle of this….. Place.


I soon walked back to the semi circle, Isaac, Merkel, and Gareth were bullshitting, as usual, and I took up a watch position. Nothing too high speed, just scanning the woodline for figures, making sure Rosanne hadn’t been dragged off… simple.


You could write a book about these three.


“So, Isaac, v’here are you from?” Gareth asked as he leaned back on his green canvas bag. Isaac took a moment to think, “Idaho, I think?”. “


Idaho?” Merkel asked confused, I laughed “Yeah, you would be from Idaho”. Gareth spoke next “You said, I zhink, you not sure?”. “Listen…. It’s all kind of a haze ever since I was 8, right. To be honest I’m not sure how I started to be a trucker, just that one day I was waiting to get it repaired, I heard this harmonic singing in the woods, and well, I got lost….”.


“Singing? In woods? Vhat the hell is up with Idaho….”.


“Okay no, that was in Texas, I think, was it?” Isaac scratched his scruffy chin. “I think it was, maybe….”.


Merkel laughed, slapping his knee, “You are crazy guy Isaac, Crazy guy, we survive this, I want you to work with us….”.


Between all the scruffy hair and his battered eye, Isaac smiled: “You know what Marker”,

“Merkel”.

“Mackerel … I think you got yourself a deal…”.


It was around this time I stood up to check on Rosanne, she’d been sitting away from the fire. She was probably alright, but I knew well enough that lying in the snow, you could literally be frozen in your spot. My advance wasn’t quiet, and a small turn from her head showed she wasn’t unaware.


“Hello Dwight”.

“Rosanne…. You doing alright?” she nodded.


“It’s close, still so far, but also, very close… what’s the saying? So close, yet, so far…”.


I scanned the dark woodline ahead of her before looking down, she’d been in that position for nearly an hour. On her knees, head down, arm on the tree. “How did you get into all of this?” she raised an eyebrow, “All of, what?”. I gestured around to the woods, for some reason, even though her eyes were clearly shut. I let my rifle drop as I crossed my arms, “This…. Water demons, spirits, house calls for exorcisms ….”.


There was a moment of quiet, then, she shrugged “someone had to do it…. You grow up in a town so full of, unnatural things, and no one trying to be some sort of expert or a medium? Someone’s gotta try and figure out what it all means…”.


I guess it did make sense, her nonchalant way of dealing with the goings on. She wasn’t really an expert, just the best the town had. “Just a woman, obsessed with ghosts, living in a greenhouse, huh?”. This actually got a laugh out of her, the first i’d seen so far. “Tell me Rosanne… what do you think all of this means?”.


She thought for a minute, her hand still gripping the bark, before she could speak. “Well-”.

“MEOW!”.


A voice called out loudly from the woodline, my hands shot to my rifle, shouldering it as I scanned the dark trees. Rosanne didn’t move, I don’t know if she even could, but I stood right behind her, scanning around.


“RIBBIT”.

Part of me felt like I’d been here before, and I had a strange feeling of, not Dejavu, but…. This was familiar.


“Dwight…. It’s not a threat”. I raised an eyebrow, “It?”. A branch snapping infront of us caused me to turn on the tac light on my rifle, illuminating the man behind the tree.


The naked…. Nearly faceless…. Crab Walking man.

Oh... God dammit.

"Woof”. It’s beady eyes and line mouth stared back in defiance, if it had any muscles in it’s face, I would have guessed it’d be laughing at me; Like “Ha! Ha! Scared you a second time, asshole!”.


I let my rifle drop as I stood up. I looked down at Rosanne who was now smirking, her eyes still closed. “Something funny young lady?”.


“WOOF” the naked crab walking man said. I shook my head, running my hand from my beanie down to my chin.


“Alright, alright, you got me…” I held my hands out “Now go on and get….”.


And just like before, it turned to one side, and shuffled away, at nearly 60 miles an hours into the darkness: “Is that what you call, Natural, to these woods Rosanne?”.


She didn’t respond. I’d walked back to the semicircle, Rosanne still on the edge. Isaac traded spots on watch with me and I passed out on my bag, not letting sleep take me, just a nap to help me make it through the rest of the night.


I passed out around 6:23pm.

It was at 6:25pm I awoke to the sounds of the Europeans running around, “V’WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!”. I jolted up, Isaac was already aiming his shotgun at something behind me. I fell asleep facing the woodline Rosanne was at, who was still there, unphased. I staggered to my feet, to see all three of them aiming at something.


It stood just infront of the tree line, the light created a small void where the shadows covered it. It stood there, unafraid, unphased, a humanoid. Gareth was in the prone, aiming his Elephant gun at it, Merkel was trying to use his hands as binoculars, and Isaac was trying to unjam all of the rounds he tried to slam load into it. Yep, we were going to die out here.


“Should I shoot at it?” Gareth asked.

“V’hat if it’s a person?” Merkel asked.

Isaac countered with: “Do you really think any sane person’s gonna be out here?! At this time of night, russkie?”


I jogged up to their side of the campfire, and knelt down, aiming my rifle at it. “Isaac, keep eyes on Rosanne, this might be a distraction to snatch her up”. Isaac nodded, turning and running over to where she was camped out. I rested my hand on Gareth’s right shoulder, he seemed to be a left handed one.


“You got a shot, take it….” A small chuckle came from the german as he slowed his breathing. One breath, in, and out. Second breath, in, and out, Third breath, In, and- The barrel of the elephant gun erupted as a red hot round shot out. The muzzle blast so loud even my electrical headphones crackled trying to block it.


The round went soaring, and soaring… and just missed the figure. The pine tree behind it shook and shuddered as the round hit it head on. The figure, however, never moved an inch. Instead, remained there. We were less than a hundred meters from it, and yet, it never made a move to attack.Instead, it said one simple word back-


“HEY!!!!!!!!”.


Gotta admit, even in the dire endgame we are, I laughed.


“Gareth, stand down” The german looked confused at my request, but didn’t argue when I picked up, and jogged over. Gotta admit, it was a short run, but in the heavy ass snow with all my gear…I was giving off a damn cloud of steam when I approached, that damn skeleton.


“Timothy….” I said, probably looking like an actual crackhead while talking to this thing. Tim was dead still... no pun intended. Also, I don’t think I saw a drop of snow on him at all. His stand was shinier than ever, and I think I remember him swearing a small scarf around his neck.


Did skeletons even need scarfs? Guess their bones get cold.

Butwas Tim even a real- I’m asking questions that will never be answered.


“NARC!!!” For once Tim said, not waiting til I was looking away to talk. “Long way from home Tim…. why you out here?”. Silence emerged as a cold wind blew past, moving Tim’s scarf, but not rattling his bones at all.


They’re here, NARC….”. A chill went down my damn spine as he said that.

“They…”. As in, them? The Silver monsters who’d kidnapped John, or, the unknowns, out there, watching us from the trees.


“They are angry, NARC… They are hungry".

Tim’s high pitched voice echoed through the seemingly empty forest around, to the uninitiated, at least, it seemed empty. I knew it was really full of things, being, watching us, staying just out of the light of the fire, waiting to make their move.


“Careful, Narc….”. I turned and looked back at the campfire, Gareth still aimed down his rifle as Merkel stood up, holding out his arms as if to ask, “Well?”, I shrugged, looking back at Tim….Who was no longer there. Oh Tim, how ever would I have gotten here without you. And to think just two months ago I smashed the stock of a .308 into your mouth. Sorry for that, by the way….


I walked back over to the camp, by now, the rest of the group was gathering. Rosanne sat crossed legged by her bag, Isaac and the europeans started to continue their legendary talks once more, and I, sat there. Legs out stretched, rifle resting across my thighs.


I knew this couldn’t last, the calm, the quiet before the storm. But, it felt good. Too good, it wouldn’t last. Rosanne pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.


“Dwight, get some sleep?”.


I raised an eyebrow, up until now, she’d said nothing. “You’re gonna need it, trust me. As long as the fire burns they’ll stay away…. Get some sleep”. I didn’t have anything to say in response, truth be told, I was getting tired. Very tired.I awoke to a blast of cold air and snowflakes hitting my face. The wind weaving around my eyepro and piercing my eyes. I stood up, noticing the fire was duller, but still burning bright. Isaac helped pull me to my feet.


“What’s going on?!” I asked, Isaac shrugged, “Dunno, storm rolled in just a few moments ago, Rosanne’s trying to get some wood and stuff with the russians to burn!!”. Even though I could tell he was yelling, I still struggled to hear him.However, I noticed the usually quiet forest around us was lively. Trees cracked and groaned, the wind howled, hissed, and roared… and from the woods around us, the laughing started up. The same laughing I heard when the power first went out, the voices I heard while trapped in that storm running….


They’re here, Narc.


Gareth and Merkel carried two large piles of firewood and dropped it into the firepit, Merkel poured a load of fluid onto the tinder, and Rosanne popped a flare. The fire battled the winter air as it fought for supremacy of the area.Gareth took up his elephant gun, and began to scan the area with Isaac, and Merkel. Rosanne grabbed onto the front of my plate carrier, pulling me close. “We’re surrounded…. If this goes out, we’re all screwed!!”.


Didn’t need to tell me twice.I reached down to my left side, pulling out my glock: “Here!!”. Rosanne took a step back, looking nervous at the weapon.


“You might not have used it, or like it, but you’re gonna need it!!”. She looked up at me, then down at the handgun, and with a nod she grabbed hold. I passed her the four pistol mags I had for the glock, as she shoved them into the pockets of her bomber jacket.I turned on my rifle’s tac light, pointing it outwards as we scanned.


“LOOK OUT!!!” Isaac yelled, and I saw it. It looked like a comet coming right for us, but that was an exaggeration. What wasn’t an exaggeration, was the fact that an engine sized rock was coming right for us. Everyone scattered, in all directions, and I charged out, covering my face.


The boulder, as it correctly was, smashed right into the fire, sending burning tinder, and lighter fluid covered flaming branches soaring around in all directions. But more importantly, killing the majority of our light. The laughter was now joined by howls and cheers, as well as roars as I reached for my gun belt.I popped off a red flare, around I could see the rest of the group lighting up ones as well, as a series of colorful pyros surrounded our former campfire. I ran over to my assault pack, heaving it into my back as I aimed for the woodline.This was it, the calm before the storm.


I looked to my left, Isaac gave me a nod, and racked his shotgun's fore-end forward, chambering a familiar, dark orange shell, I looked to my right, Rosanne gripped her pistol nervously.


“Which direction are we heading?!” I called out in the wind. Rosanne pointed to the north. Of course, it was always the north, even if we took deviations to the left or right, it lead one direction. I rolled up a sleeve on my fleece, one piece of gear I forgot to mention wasn’t from Gareth or Merkel, but from the army.


It was an electronic watch, usually used by pointmen to track which degree on the map they were heading to. Now, sure, you could use a compass, but in this weather, under this light, I’ll take the watch’s electronic glow over a busted standard issue compass any day.I input the azimuth, and shouldered my rifle. Even with my fancy ass watch, Rosanne was our lifeline to the source. She had little to no combat experience, and the way she held that glock made me realize she probably never learned how.And now here we are, waiting for someone, something to take the first shot. I cursed under my breath for not trying to teach her how when I had the chance, but then, my eyes caught sight of a dark figure bolting from the woods, right towards us.


Isaac shot up to his feet, and aimed his shotgun,

“HELLO FROM IDAHO, YOU MOTHER-” An explosion of fire escaped from his barrel, extending outwards in a huge pillar. It was so bright, especially to the dark area around, that I squinted just trying to see.That was it, the shot that ended this entire charade.


Gareth and Merkel joined Isaac as they lobbed hate at the woodline. A series of oranges, yellows, whites, and reds tore through the trees, causing some far off pines to shake, others to fall, and the woods to roar back with pained moans and unearthly voices.Normally, I would try to assign rates of fire, but that would take a whole lot of time to teach them, and I could tell since they were all picking up and assaulting forward, that we had no intention of staying.


“COME ON!!!” I called out to Rosanne, I moved forward, she stayed right to my right side. As we pushed up, I could see several figures in front. I dropped to a knee, so did Rosanne, and we both fired at the figures.


Semi.

A series of controlled bursts from my rifle caused some of them to bounce back, and even then, all I knew was I was shooting a fucking silhouettes. Rosanne’s rounds were more of a deterrent, but they helped back up my line of fire.


I fired, then she did, back in the army we called this "talking guns".


We picked up and moved forward, pushing into the woodline.It was a fucking mess. Tracers and shots meant to take down fucking rhinos tore through branches above, causing us to duck and take cover behind trees and fallen logs. They stayed just out of sight, my rifle’s light trying to spot them, but just as I zeroed in in them, they were gone.


Rosanne called out ones around us, all the while, grabbing onto my arm and dragging me in the direction we needed to go. In the distance, I could hear Isaac cheering, and Merkel and Gareth shouting old war cries befitting of an old battlefield.


It wasn’t until the snow was coming down hard, that I realized me and Rosanne hadn’t stopped running for a good while. We only did when a large pine tree came right down square in our path. Hitting the ground just before a slope downwards, Rosanne stopped just before it, but with all my gear, and the weight of my pack, I nearly toppled over.


“DWIGHT!!” Rosanne yelled through the wind, I braced my off hand on the log, trying to push myself over. That’s when, I heard Rosanne open up on something with her glock, I turned around, only to catch a silver hand out of the corner of my eye- shoving me over the log. and I went tumbling down the slope.


My pack, my vest, my rifle, all worked to my disadvantage as the weight through me around so much, I hit the ground, my mind blended.


I spit up dirt and iced over grass, a haunting memory of weeks prior. Then, I heard it, something taking off towards me, both feet, if it only had two feet, running at full force. Forcing myself up onto my feet I flicked my rifle onto kill and fired a burst into the forest.


Guess I was already standing on uneasy feet, because whatever silver skinned beast hit me, sent me flying back into a small ditch as it drove it’s shoulder into me. I scrambled to my feet again, at the mouth of the ditch stood a small tree.


I took up cover, “C - gripping” my rifle to the side of the tree, then quickly switching to cover the other side.


A set of footsteps came charging from the right side, I aimed to the right, a series of rounds sent whatever beast was about to emerge back into the darkness. Then from the left, I gripped onto the tree, and another series of rounds sent the beast back into the shadows.


From the left again, I aimed down and-The click of the rifle, empty. Like clockwork, my right hand flew down to my thigh, and pulled the 5.7 from it's hoslter. rounds cracked off, and I swear I could make out a set of teeth in the dark, an angry scowl, right before they ducked back into the shadows.


I slapped the gun back into it's holster, and tossed the empty mag out. In other circumstances, I would have liked to keep the mag, but I could care less, all I cared about was the relief I got when I slapped the fresh 30 round metal mag in, and slapped the bolt release home.


Again, they started to come close, from the left, from the right, then the front, All the while, I switched from possible target, to possible target, all possibilities because I never saw them fucking clearly, never seeing them fucking clearly, they never showed their faces, they never came out, and all the while I wondered-


Where was Rosanne? Isaac? I looked around trying to find them- A roar from my eight o’clock snapped me back to reality, and I swung around. My mind was battling itself, fear for my friends, and the military calculus I had burned into my dna fighting, one trying to help, the other keeping me alive.


Another magazine empty, I was running thin. It was my second one, I barely had just enough time, backpedaling further and further into the ditch, to chamber the round, and release onto the unseen foe in the dark. I scanned again, 12, 10, 2, 3, 9... my rear, I hadn't checked my back.


What if I was snuck up on.... I turned around, seeing another figure in my peripheral, I zeroed in on it and...-It wasn’t a creature, it was him. I barely recognized him since it had been so long, but there he was. Tan skin, maroon, white, and red paint, with a feathered headgear on. Standing underdressed for the winter, but I don’t think it mattered to him.


The native.


My barrel lowered as we both stared each other in the eye. My oakleys were nearly fogged up from all the steam, and I could feel myself breathing as heavy as I did after my first gunfight.


What did he see me as, why was he following me? Was he here to finish me off- why would he? He had the chance, everytime he appeared right as they were about to overwhelm me, and everytime….A set of heavy footfalls from behind me, I turned, and yanked on that trigger hard. A set of silver hands with black nails were just a meter from my face, before I sent them back into the darkness. Empty, again.I threw the empty mag from my rifle, loading another one in. I was burning through ammo like no one’s fucking uncle.I turned back around, and he was…. Gone.


In his place, where he stood, was the moonlight. It shined through two tall oak trees, just 50 meters from me…. A clearing. I bolted for it, knowing that was probably my only hope right now for not getting swarmed. Wretched screams and hands were outstretched, as I fired into the woods around me. The carry handle of my bag got caught on a branch, but I powered forward, snapping the branch, and causing me to stumble, nearly fall into the snow as I broke out into the clearing.


I whipped around, and there I saw them. Five, ten, maybe a fucking dozen, dozens?! They all stood just behind the tree line, but I could finally see them. Some of them, the silver skinned monsters from the trail, but others…. Elongated, strange creatures, with reflective black skin, others, animals oversized, and shaped like humanoids…All of them stopped at the edge of the woods. I still had my rifle shouldered, as I stared out. My lips frozen, quivering. The silence, as they just stared, some of them beginning to back off.


“COME ON!!!” I roared, firing off a series of rounds. Tracers broke the air, as some hit the trees, others the rocks, but some still hit them. Causing them to jolt and stumble, but never causing them to charge. Instead, they just backed off into the darkness of the woods.I stood there, confused… then I took a look around at the clearing. It was, from the drawing. Half sunken into a huge duvet into the ground, possible the work of a sinkhole…. A large house, bigger than the Cazamoth house, angled and pointed rooftops stood in defiance to the ground that tried to swallow it.


What the hell was this? Hallowed ground? Was this too much for them to…. It hit me, I looked down at my watch, the arrow pointed dead towards the house, towards north…. Towards, the source.


This was it. I had reached it, and judging by the cold, harsh winds, no longer broken by distant gunfire. I had reached the end. And I was alone.….I don’t know how in the hell I’ve still got service, I’ve got only two, maybe one bars, but I guess I’m still within range of towers. I’m typing this, my fucking hands nearly freezing up, lips barely able to make coherent sentences, about an hour of waiting.I’ve lit flares, I’ve called out, hell I’ve fired about a full mag into the air trying to signal the others.


Nothing.


I’ve consolidated my ammunition. About 14 Magazines, the ones on my vest, and the ones in my pack. Around 4 5.7 pistol magazines, a phone on 18%, and only one entrance into the house. An upper floor level window I’ve managed to break open, looks like a bedroom.I…. I’ll be honest, I don’t know what’s gonna come after this. I know, I might have said that before, but for real this time, for real, real. If this does get posted, and makes it online, this might be one of my last posts.


Isaac, Rosanne, Gareth, and Merkel aren’t coming.


I’m heading into this alone, and I don’t know if I will make it out of this. No. John’s still down there, hundreds of people have gone missing. I don’t know if I can beat the odds, but I have to fucking try.


This is Dwight Nolan. Last member of the Cazamoth Extermination Team left standing.I will be back.


[Entry 11]


Should I have stayed in?


Should I have taken other contracts or openings that, weren’t, in the most haunted fucking sector of mid america’s woodlands?


Should I go in?


I asked myself a lot of questions as I took a drag of my cigarette. For reference, I never smoke, barely, really. Lung cancer, coughing to death, it’s a bad ride, but I needed something to clear my head, and, well, better now than never.


The nicotine buzz helped me think clearly; Someone suggested I could just wait it out ‘til sunrise, go back to the estate and regroup, but, with who? God knows where the others are, I’ve tried signaling them, shooting in the air, flares, nothing.


Someone also suggested I just burn this sunken occult piece of shit home… but, this is where the trail leads. Whatever’s the source of all of this, where ever John is…. It’s down there.


What is it with this forest and possessing structures in the boonies?Sorry, off track, nicotine’s made me a bit antsy. But, also… No. This is it, no turning back, no retreating. There is no other option. I took stock of my supplies. Running through the woods like I was- being chased by a pack of fucking demons- I hit a lot of trees, took a lot of falls. What I’m getting at is, I lost a few mags and some necessary things. As a result, I’m at 8 magazines for the ‘15, 2 for the 5.7, some flares, and one Incendiary.


It is going to be a long night.


The only entrance I was able to make out is a broken upstairs window. You know, triangle rooftop bit, rectangular window with three parts, kind of jutted out. The glass was cracked, the wood was moldy- I don’t know how long it’s been here, but this house has seen better days.The element of surprise was gone, they know I’m here, they know I’m coming. I cracked a green chem light, it’s the military’s version of the glowstick, except it lasts for twelve hours, and is super fucking bright. I dropped it by the window sill, if Isaac and Rosanne are coming, at least they’ll have a guide.


I turned my rifle’s taclight on, taking a few steps inside, stepping off a small seat type ledge by the window. I scanned the room, left, right, then down the center. It was small, kind of squareish, with… wait a second.Blue walls, chipped paint, pink bedspread and quilt… I knew this room, I looked for the far end, even the grains in the wooden boards on the far wall were the same.It was the kid’s room Isaac and I had entered after the library, the one with the drawings. I raised my rifle and shined the light at where I knew the door was. It was broken down, the rusted brass hinges ripped right out of the walls.


My mind thought back to the voice at the gate,“-My house…”.


Whether it was mind games or not, I didn’t care, I didn’t have time to. I stepped over broken holes in the floor, and approached the door. A crushed cabinet we used to barricade it back in…. Whatever Isaac and I found ourselves in caused the door to be jammed at a sort of diagonal angle.


This meant, my two hundred and ten something ass, with at least 30 pounds of gear, had to squeeze up and over the gap.


When I stumbled into the hall, I shined my light down the hall. It was the exact same thing. Same age, same brownish grey color. Doors were staggered on either side, with one on the right side wide open, white tiles visible from my end. The infirmary.


So, I did what every good infantryman would do-

I kicked down every fucking door on my way there.


First one was an empty room, a single wooden chair in the middle, a single shackle bolted to the wall. Next was, a broken down rec room, rotted pool table, collapsed in bartop, tables with a demolished old TV.


-Basically, for the next four rooms, nothing of note. Not a sound, not a whisper, not a cackle. Nothing. Just the sound of my own heartbeat, my boots hitting the floor, and the sound of wood cracking as I cleared each and every room.


I reached the Infirmary, “pieing” the corner, I charged inside, clearing all the dead space, or, more like where I knew there should be dead space. The metal operating table, the counters, cabinets, filing cabinets. Gone. Just rotted tiles on the walls and old boards… I was taken a back, only slightly. Then, I noticed where the table had been


.A large scorch mark, ash and burns had blackened the tiles around it, along with an outline of it’s wheels and frame on the floor and back wall. I stopped trying to figure out what the fuck this all meant, that cost precious time, and right now, I was walking cleanly into the heart of enemy territory, without opposition.Something caught my eye though in the ash, it was…. A piece of paper. Anything caught in the cone of Dragon’s Breath should have been incinerated, destroyed, but, there it was. Some ash fell off it as I reached down and picked it up, but, it was mostly untouched.


This time there wasn’t any drawing, just a single message written in red crayon.

“Thank You”.


A laugh then came from behind me, it was deep, like you turned the pitch all the way down. I felt it’s cold, malice filled breath hit the back of my neck so close, it passed right over the collar of my jacket. I wasn't out of the (literal) woods yet.I spun around, hearing the sounds of bare feet slapping against tile, and fired off several shots. I could hear the gunshots bouncing off the tile walls as the rounds tore through the wooden wall of the hallway- whatever had targeted me, was a shadow just barely turning the corner.I chased after it, my rifle shot up as I turned the corner. Nothing. I walked the halls more carefully this time, but I knew they could see me, feel me. Low chuckles and giggles came from beneath the floor boards, distant footsteps sounding like they were just beyond the floor and ceiling…. My light cut through the black void of the house like a hot knife, I didn’t pry it from the hall.


Suddenly, from my right, a set of fast footsteps sounding like they were coming from inside the wall charged by me. I fired off two rounds, then, to my left, again, two more rounds. There you go with that trigger finger Dwight, they’re trying to waste my Ammo. I was playing into their game. From behind me, a thunderous set of steps shook the fucking floor, I dropped to a knee as I turned, and fired three rounds at- nothing.


I saw my 5.56 tear up the wood of the distant door and cabinet.


“DWIGHT!” John’s voice snapped me from my nicotine and sleep deprived buzz.

“JOHN?!”.


“DWIGHT!” it sounded like he was nearby, but I heard the stories, how some things could imitate voices, hide inside people’s skins. I had to be careful, if Rosanne’s hunch was right, he was here. I needed to keep my trigger finger on a tight fucking leash.


I followed the cries for help to a door not far, on the left side. I tried the handle, locked. “John! Get away from the door!!”. A kick didn’t do it this time, and I had to fire off yet another set of rounds. Half stumbling in, I saw I was in a laundry room. With no one around.


I looked everywhere, inside a small closet, inside some of the machines- then, a knocking came, from inside of a chute. It was a metal pull chute, used to drop laundry from above to the floors below. Or, it should have, but, this was the laundry room, why was this here? Where did this go?


Questions for another time as my off hand grasped the thing metal handle. I aimed my barrel inside as I pointed, distant laughs still muffled through the floorboard. Nothing. I squinted as I stared down, for reference, I’m a big guy, long reach, my actual head was several feet from the chute.


-So when a giant fucking silver hand, with blackened nails, shot out, and grabbed the front of my plate carrier. I was a little surprised.


My nose and face smashed into the metal outline of the chute, as I scrambled for my rifle. The thing was trying hard to pull me in, and I could feel my damn spine strain as it did. My rifle was caught, crushed between me, and the wall. My hand dropped to my thigh, the drop holster, and pulled out my 5.7.


I stuck the barrel of the handcannon in and let her rip, I couldn’t see much, what with my damn body being stuck to the wall as a fucking ghoul tried to pull me down the literal rabbit hole, but I could hear the distorted, human like screams from it as it finally let go.


I stumbled back, fumbling as I threw my pistol back into it’s holster, and fired off a few rounds into the wall. The voices were up in arms now, giggles turned to belly laughs, distant footsteps now stomps, all sounding like they were just outside of the floorboards.I charged out of the room, and continued down the hallway. I eyed it’s end, finally. A wooden door, moderately intact, just a few meters down. Get through the door, continue down, complete the mission. Or, at least that was the plan, my foot going right through one of the boards threw a wrench into it however.I tried to pull my foot out, but as the laughs heightened, I heard the house around me groan, as the rest of the floor gave way. It could have been the work of whatever targeted me, or, it could also be the fact that I was stomping through an old, collapsing house made of wood, like it was a semi stable structure.It wasn’t.


I slipped and my torso slammed into the floorboard in front of me, and as I scrambled to grab onto something, my gloves prevented my fingers from digging in. I went into free fall, a semi lit hall turned to darkness, and I wondered, for a second, where up even was, before I could even think about bracing myself.


Whatever wooden surface slammed into my left side told me I had turned mid flight. My left arm took the brunt of the fall, and pain shot throughout my shoulder. The weight of my pack shifted, and pulled me off yet again.I fell face first this time, onto an old, matted, moldy carpet. I fought through the pain to stand up, and as I got a hold of my rifle, I was able to see again. Though, there was ambient light, a strange, orange like hue. I recognized it. The green carpet only backed up my, albeit, slightly disoriented theory, as I scanned the area above.The wooden surface I had fallen onto, was in fact a bookshelf.I had fallen into the library. Although, it was a bit bigger, a bit more upscale, however the design of the bookshelves, color of the floor and lights, all the same.


Before I could start piecing things together, a crash came from behind me. I aimed my rifle at a spot on the bookshelf wall, several novels falling off, as a set of silver fingers were poking through a protruding spot in it. Then, another crash caused the boards to push more and more forward, and more books shook and fell off.


Something was trying to break through.


Through the continued laughs and giggles, I fired off several rounds into the wall. Instead of a roar, or a yell, I was answered with a sentence- “DWIIIIGHT!” Unlike the deep, low pitched yells and tones of the others, this one was strained, melodic, echoy.


I saw it look at me through the sizable hole it made in the wall. It’s skin was a deeper grey rather than silver, and it’s eye was completely white, save for one black pupil.


“HELLO DWIGHT!” it shouted, and another punch nearly caved in the wall as it struck again. I fired off more rounds, but as my finger pulled the trigger for a fourth time- click.


The boards on the wall started to give way, as it’s arms extended through, ripping away pieces of it as it climbed through. I dropped the magazine, dragging a heavy metal mag from one of my belt’s pouches. I slammed it in, and released the bolt, only to come face to face with the goliath that it was.


It was bigger than me, much bigger. Maybe nearly seven feet in height, and it’s roided up, bulging muscles looked like it was tearing it’s skin apart in some places.


“STOP FIGHTING DWIGHT!!” It’s hulkish appearance didn’t take away from the way it perfectly articulated my fucking name.


My teeth gritted as I fired off another burst of rounds, but, it just closed the distance. Pushing my barrel to the side, it instead grabbed my shoulders, and picked me up. It held me so close, it’s stench was almost unbearable.


It was the smell of rotting, waterlogged death.It through me into what I found out was a door. My pack was in the way, bracing my impact. Before I could even zero in, a large copy of War and Peace struck my nose. I cringed, between all the abuse to my face so far, I could smell the irony scent of my own blood pouring out of my nose.


I think I was doubled over, because it was able to reach over and grab my pack, using it to swing me, and send me flying through the door, right into a bannister. The bannister hit my rifle, which pushed into my front plate, which pushed into my chest, knocking my breath out of me. While I wheezed, I looked around.It was, a shockingly similar layout to the front of the Cazamoth house. Staircase leading around the right side of the room, old rotted couches and furniture below, with a set of double doors pushed open by tons of dirt and roots…


“ITS ALMOST OVER DWIGHT!!” The voice reminded me of the hear and now as I spun around, leaning back against the bannister, and aimed my rifle- only to get a taste of my own assault pack as it was thrown, as it bounced off my god damn head. My oakley’s were crooked, splattered in my own spit and blood as I blinked to regain my vision. I raised my rifle again, only to have that grey muscular hand push it to the side, and for a giant, bare foot, to go square into my chest- pushing me through the bannister, and sailing into the floor below.


The next thing I remember was eating old couch fabric as I dove face first into the couch, completely collapsing it inwards. I rolled over once, onto my back, before stopping. My head was spinning, a migraine was forming, feeling like I had just gotten hit by a sack of bricks, one at a time. To be honest, I kind of did.


The thing laughed, my left hand wiped across my face, tossing away my now broken eyepro as I saw it stare at me from the bannister. Probably because it was confident, or because it knew my rifle had been doing jack shit, it took the stairs down.


My ‘15 had gotten caught underneath me on the fall, and I strained to pull it up and over. I aimed my optic on the thing, and pulled the trigger.


Several rounds exploded from the muzzle break as it simply held up an arm, shielding it’s grotesque, bald head as it walked down the stairs. Two round, then four, then three, then- click.

I was out? Already?

I had barely- no, I jammed.


I nearly pissed myself as I dropped the mag, and pulled the charging handle back. Double feed, and boy oh fucking boy was it one hell of a double feed. As I fingerfucked the gun, trying to get the rounds out of the starchamber, the thing must’ve knew I was in trouble.


It laughed as it vaulted the final stairway bannister, power walking towards me. I dropped my rifle and sat up. It was down, and it was just meters away, I wasn’t getting up, I wasn’t unjamming it, I was fucked. I pulled my pistol from it’s holster, and aimed for it’s neck, hoping a jugular shot would halt it.


My left arm still ached, making control of my 5.7 hard, and I fired off shot after shot. The thing stared at me, hairless head, wide eyes, open mouth as it reached for me- This was it.


Or, at least, it would have been.

If I didn’t make some friends along the way.


A set of plaid sleeved arms wrapped around the beast’s head as it’s look of victory turned into one of surprises, I lowered my gun in confusion. Then, I saw who it was.


“THIS IS FOR MY EYE!!! YOU SONS OF GUNS!!!” Isaac yelled, his shotgun was slung to his back as he pulled out his small 5 shot, and stuck it into the thing’s eye. Three rounds exploded into it’s right eye as it cried out in agony, a splash of black ooze splattered across it’s face.This was the time I needed, I turned over, and both hands quickly grab hold of my rifle. I reached in, unjamming that sucker faster than I had ever done, and worked that charging handle just to make sure. I slammed the magazine back in, and racked a round, sending her home.I was on spaghetti legs as stood up, but adrenaline surged back through my body after it’s long hiatus. I squared up with the beast as it thrashed and swung, trying to grab Isaac.


“ISAAC!!! GET DOWN!!!” I yelled, as he looked over at me. The beast then charged backwards, slamming into the wall, and causing Isaac to fall off onto an end table. It scratched at it’s eye as it looked down at Isaac, and then, back at me-.


I flipped the selector switch, Semi.

Then, I thought for a moment.

Screw it. Auto.


A fast burst of rounds peppered the thing’s chest, my injured offhand battled to keep the weapon stable. It was woozy, like I had finally made a dent in it, it shook it’s head, I fired again. Another set of rounds tore up it’s chest, black ooze now starting to spill out as I advanced, wobbly, but confident. The script was flipped now.


Another burst, then another. My Magazine finally ran dry, and I dropped it, slamming in another mag, and releasing the bolt with an oh so fucking satisfying kachink. I saw Isaac get up as well, he dropped his 5 shot and raised his boomstick.


We were now laying into it now. Full auto burst, then a blast of buckshot, then another burst, then a slung tore into it’s chest. We were battering it, again, and again, and again, and again, and fucking again. And finally, after the thing was covered with it’s own ooze, and slid down the wall, painting it in it’s putrid blood…. It’s head tried to laugh one more time, before…. It went limp.


There was a moment of silence, and I mean, actual silent. The muffled laughing was now quiet, the footsteps were gone, all that I could hear was my rifle dropping down as I let go, the floorboards creaking beneath my feet, and the heavy breathing of me, and of course-“Isaac!!” I said, spitting blood from my lips as I hobbled over. Guess Isaac had seen too many action movies too, because we, what is called?

“Broshaked?”.

"Powerhugged?".


“Holy shit Sarge, you’re looking a little…. Uh…”.

“Fucked?”.

“Well I mean I didn’t wanna say anything, but you’re beard’s covered in your own blood”.

“Isaac- where were you, how the fuck-”.


He took off his trucker cap, running his fingers through his long, oily hair, and scratched his scalp. “After the fuckin’ boogaloo kicked off? man I’ll be honest I tried to keep up with you and Rosanne, but I lost ya’ll as soon as we hit the trees. Then I lost the two austrians-”.

“-Germans”.

“-Russians? Anyways, I didn’t know how long it had been, but after awhile, I stopped and suddenly, felt like I knew where to go. Then, I found your little breadcrumb…”. I cocked an eyebrow as Isaac pulled a green chemlight from his pocket.


“You were in the woods, and you felt like, you knew where to go?”. Isaac shrugged, he tossed the chemlight behind him, into the small open kitchen area. He then squatted down, collecting his pistol as he wiped black ooze from it’s barrel and cylinder.


What I felt next, was, strange. It wasn’t out loud, I knew because only I reacted to it, and Isaac didn’t. It was the melodic voice from the microphone, from earlier when the Cazamoth house had been breached, except, it was more supportive. Is supportive the right word? Well, it didn’t sound like it wanted me dead, it just wanted my attention.


“Dwight” as it spoke, my Migraine slowly faded, I rubbed my forehead with my offhand, blinking my eyes. As I did, I noticed- it couldn’t have been, but I saw it. It wasn’t as torn up and messy, it was more pink and quilted. The edge of a dress out of the corner of my left eye.My hands shot to my rifle, and I zeroed in on where it should have been. Like always, it was gone, but, instead, I saw an exact replica of where the hallway with the security room was. The security room wasn’t there, but, there was another doorway.


The basement doorway.


Isaac bolted to his feet, aiming his shotgun in one hand, and his pistol in the other. “What’s up chief, you see something?”. I lowered my barrel as I knew the pathway ahead. The house was sunken into the ground, all the voices came from below. We had to go down.


Isaac pressed the barrel of his benelli up to the doorknob and let loose. Wood and bits of brass shot out from the inside as I kicked in the door. We were greeted not by a staircase leading to the basement we knew, but to a small elevator shaft. It was like those small cage ones used for mineshafts, grey concrete walls lined the outsides of it, as a lone flickering light illuminated the area.


We didn’t make a snappy quip or a funny moment of banter this time. Isaac and I climbed in, and threw the gate door shut.


We saw only one option on the metal button pad, [DOWN]. The thing was rocky, it shook and shuddered, and I honestly thought it would give out at any moment and sent us plummeting to our doom.


You couldn’t pay me enough to stare down through the cage floor. Fuck that, there’s a reason I never went to airborne school. I just stared forward, rifle at the low ready, staring as the concrete walls passed us on the way down.


The silence was broken by Isaac: “So…. what’d’you thinks at the bottom, Dwight?”. I now realize it’s been a fat minute since he’s referred to me as anything other than “Sarge”, “Commander”, or “Boss”. He continued “I bet there’s an ancient eldritch horror at the bottom. A Shogoth maybe?”. I sighed and squeezed the bridge of my nose, even with the migraine gone Isaac never failed to one up it.


He shook his head, running his hand through his beard “Actually…. No, Shoggoth’s don’t really have minions. But it’s gotta be something really demonic. I mean, did you see that roided son of a gun up there?".


“Why don’t we just skip a tier of command and just say it’s cuthulu, Isaac?”.

He actually took my suggestion serious, tisking as he shook his head.


“No, then why wouldn’t he go after a more costal area…. We’re in the middle of North America. Damn this whole thing really is a puzzle, what do you think”.


I told him, honestly, the only thing I could think of: “I think whatever is causing all of this is going to die, by a lot of bullets, and a lot of fire”. Isaac cackled, and then, the elevator finally reached… “Down”.


My rifle shot up as Isaac pulled the cage door open. Ahead was, an operating room, or, like, a mass surgical room, an ER? More white, cracked, and smeared tiles lined the walls and floors as several dividing curtains created different sections. Through the flickering lights above, we could see IVs, beds, and different metal tables and cabinets, in each of the sections.We could also hear, footsteps. A flash of silver shot across the center isle, as muffled laughing could be heard from another section just meters ahead of us. What sounded like someone was crawling on all fours could be heard….It wasn’t an ER, it was a chop shop.I pondered our options. Close quarters, what looks like a singular exit at the far end, easily bypassable walls made out of tarp, and several hostiles crawling around.


“Isaac…”.

“Yeah boss?”.

“Follow my lead”.


He probably expected me to creep through or to start clearing it section by section, but I knew when we were outnumbered, and I knew that far exit was probably our only safe way forward.


So I flicked my rifle to Auto and started to unleash hell into the room. My rounds tore through the tarps, throwing around old papers, knocking over small rolling cards, and Isaac joined in, shooting across, and creating havoc of his own. An intersecting X of death.


I pulled my rifle back into a high ready: “LET’S GO!!!”.


We moved through the center isle, and whatever lurked within these bloodied, rusted tables and tarps, were pissed. Hissing, and human like yells came from within. I targeted one with a burst of automatic fire, to our front right, then our front left.Isaac weaved throughout many now torn up tarps and knocked over tables, firing off slugs left and right, behind, across. It was a strange approach, controlled chaotic violence, even as they sounded like they were leaping, a blast of automatic fire, and a wave of buckshot sent their devilish eyes and silver skin bolting back into cover.


I kicked open the far door and dropped a magazine, slamming another one in. I was down to 5, or maybe it was 4, I wasn’t really counting. Isaac backed his way in, and after a series of triumphant blasts from the Benelli, he slammed the door shut, locking several mechanisms as slams and bangs from the outside started up.He started to reload his weapon as I scanned again, and holy shit, winding metal hallways, with bolted metal walls, grated floors, and dim, yellow LED lights that hung above. Some halls went left, some right, some went off in diagonals… it was a fucking maze.Isaac stepped forward, turning left and gazing down one of the halls. I looked down at my azimuth watch. It pointed forward, then backward, then left, then right, then, flickered to each at once, then clockwise. No help there.


The voice returned,

“Dwight….”. I looked forward, nothing, then to a hallway leading off on a diagonal left path, nothing. It returned, sounding rightwards “Dwight”.


I turned spotting the pink and white frilled dress, but, instead of nothing, she… was there. Actually there. And, looking… healthy. Her hazel eyes stared back through black bangs, she had a much cleaner complexion, and her white dress was brand new.


We maintained a tense stare down for what felt like hours, until I realized, she… was no threat. She would have done something by now, attacked in some way. Instead, she just pointed down the hall.To the left side, was a hallway breaking off, and leading in another direction. I looked back at her, she just turned back, locking eyes with me-


“You alright, Dwight?” Isaac said, stepping forward alongside me. “I know where to go” I said bluntly as I raced forward, Isaac lagged behind, probably looking dumbfounded from how he spoke, “Uh…. what? How?”.


“No time, too long, too fucking complicated, just trust me…”.


I turned the corner, heading left, and saw her, 10 meters down, pointing to a hallway that lead to the right. A right turn, and I saw her again, pointing to another left turn. On the way, I saw signs above doors and halls: “Botany plant”, “Incinerator”, all different facilities you’d find in a compound.


Finally, I took a final left turn, and, instead, saw her point to a small staircase leading down. Isaac caught up, sounding kind of out of breath. A sign just like the others hung above the staircase, “Incubation”.


Isaac wheezed and shook his head as he stood up straight “You know…. Anyone ever tell you, you walk faster than normal people run?”.


His voice echoed through the empty halls, and that’s when we heard it: “Isaac?!”.

John.


Hopefully for real, this time.


Isaac and I called out as we stormed down the staircase, the sounds of heavy footsteps shaking and banging against the metal steps. We reached the bottom the incubation lab, and found a series of vats, if that’s what you can call them. Gigantic plexiglass cylinders jutting up from the floors to metal caps connected to the ceiling, scattered across the room. All of them covered with moss and grass, and black ooze.I gazed left, then right, “JOHN!!!!”.


A moment of silence before we heard a series of bang against one of the tubes, near the back right of the lab. My hand gripped the trigger well as we approached, praying it was him, and that I didn’t jump the gun and shoot him. But if it wasn’t…. I kept my rifle up.


We both went around opposites sides of a group of the vats, and, thats when I think I saw him- saw it.I could barely focus on it, just looking at it mad my eyes water and shut with pain. Like looking into a wall of moss and static, and yet, I knew what it was…. A man, or at least shaped like a man.I backed off, and hugged one of the vats, Isaac pressed on- “What the?!” followed by a loud blast of his shotgun.


My eyes widened, “JOHN!!!”.


I turned the corner, Isaac missed the vat where I heard banging come from, but the man was gone. I saw him rubbing his eye, and where it stood….A large patch of turf with vibrant weeds and ferns, poked through the grated floor below us.


Grass.


I searched the sides of the vat, and saw a small handle and latch on the side. I looked back to Isaac, who held his shotgun up, giving me a slow nod. I flipped the latch up, and pulled it open, and backed away.I gritted my teeth, prying my finger away from the trigger, saying damn it fucking all to the consequences. John stumbled forward from the moss covered vat, his hands green with grass stain, and coughing up black ooze.


“Kid?!” Isaac dropped his shotgun and got down on a knee. I let my rifle drop as well, he was alright, although, it looked like the fucking forest was trying to grow over him, and subsequently, inside of him. However, apart from some dehydration and illness…. He was fine, alive.“You two…” he hacked up black ooze, I patted his back like he was one of my joes trying to get over a three day weekend.


“You guys…. Came”. Isaac laughed as he shook his head, “Hell yeah kid, we ain’t gonna let you bite it!!”.


John looked up to me, “Where’s dad?”.


I stared at him, silently, thinking of everything Theodore and I had said to each other up until this point. Where was he?


"Your dad’s fine, don’t worry about him right now…” I scanned the room, spotting an entrance leading out to the back left. No going back up with all those things up there.


“John, can you walk?” the kid’s subsequent hacking and wheezing caused Isaac to just pick him up and carry him in his arms.


I took the lead, scanning the hallway and leading the way. Or, more correctly, she lead the way. A few more corners and halls, and we reached a room titled “Industrial Lifts”. It was a rectangle room, with two large elevators. Isaac approached one as I did the other. I scanned mine, it was old, rusted, with a button pad mounted on the wall.


“Hey, Dwight!! This one leads up!!” I backed off and walked over as he beckoned me. It had several white elevator buttons, each with a different description; “Labs”, “Storage”, “Basement”, “House”.


“We can take this sucker back to the house, then just kick all the doors we need to get back to above ground!!”. Isaac turned back to John as the kicked coughed up more ooze. I breathed a sigh of relief, I should feel… calm, finally. We found John, and we now have a way out, but something was still resting in the pit of my stomach…“Dwight”. I turned to my left, and saw her pointing to the other elevator. I walked over, barely hearing Isaac call out, “Dwight?”.


The other Elevator had a simple keypad, with one button.“Sub level”.


Isaac exited the elevator, walking over to me, I must’ve looked like a zombie. Staring at the keypad. “What’s up? We gotta get going man, whatever the hell was back there, it’ll be here soon….”. I shook my head,“Take the elevator up to the surface Isaac” he shook his head in disbelief, “Oh you have gotta be kidding me, Dwight I know you might’ve gotten thrown around by that big guy, you must be concussed!!”. I exhaled, He wasn’t going to leave quietly.


“Isaac whatever was back there wasn’t the source, the origin behind all these things, everything happening here….” he grew quiet as I crossed my arms and turned to him. “We saved John, yeah, but these things are just gonna come for him again, come for more people…..”.


He tried to speak, then just laughed out of his own disbelief. “Dwight you can’t be serious, this is some class A horror movie bullshit, let’s go!!”.


“Isaac, listen to me!” He was going to speak, but silenced himself yet again. “We leave here, we go try to get the national guard, the police…. Who knows if this house will even still be here? You said it yourself, Eldritch monsters, horror movie bullshit…. We’re neck deep in whatever this is, and we have a chance to end it…. Whatever is at the bottom, is the cause”.


There was a tense silence between us, He stared at me out of anger, I stared back, pleading for him to listen. I know how crazy I sounded, how I still sound, but it’s true. “You get John, you get out of here, you go make sure he, Rosanne, and the others are okay, and you go tell the whole fuckin world what happened here….”.


“And tell me Dwight… where do you factor into this little…. Plan?” I looked back to the elevator, the lone button, the light long burnt out, but something told me it was more than working. “It knows me, that thing said my name again, and again, not yours…. I started this, it said it itself. I poked at it, dragged everyone in…. And now, I’m gonna end this, just me”.


Isaac shook his head, “I’m not letting you go down there alone”. 


I nodded, “I know, but if you go with me, who’s going to get John out of here?”. He bit his lower lip, looking behind him back to the elevator. As he turned back around, I held my hand out.“You’ve been a good friend Isaac, I’ve known you for only a couple of months and you’re as close to a brother of arms that I’ve had since I got out...".


Isaac grabbed my hand, looking me in the eyes, I saw a mixture of despair and anger, but also courage. “Go get them, Sergeant”.


I gave Isaac my 5.7, along with the last pistol magazine, and some flares. We held a tense stare as his elevator made it’s climb up, until they were gone.


And I was standing there, alone. My breath was shaky, the easy way out, the easy choice, was gone. Is gone. And now, here I am.I stepped into the elevator, haven’t pressed the button to go down yet.


No, I sat down along the left side wall.

My last entry, at least, I think it’ll be the last.


I don’t know. Whatever’s causing all of this, the cryptic source. It’s down there, waiting for me.No more vanguard roided up beasts, no more creatures in the dark. Just a man, sitting in an elevator, typing the last of this on one bar of wifi. It’s 4am, We’ve been out here awhile, but I think it’s about to come to a close.


Maybe Isaac will make an update, maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. I don’t know what comes next, but what I do know, is that it's about to all come to an end. The forest is a mysterious place, and despite how much the world wants to deny it, dark, sinister shit lurks within it.Don’t let Theodore Cazamoth cover up what’s happening here, don’t let this all be buried. If I don’t stop what’s been happening here, Theodore won’t. I’m rambling, sorry, a lot less funny this time, but not at all less important. Should this be the end or not, it’s been an honor fighting with you Rosanne, Isaac, Gareth, Markel. And for you, reading this, don’t forget what happened here. Don’t let everything we’ve done be for nothing.


Should I finish this, or not, the truth can’t be buried.


This is Dwight Nolan, sole member of the Cazamoth Security Team, signing off.

I hope I’ll be back.




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