nononononononononononononononononononono

Nonononononononono. No. NO! NoT pOSsiBle!

FoUNd a pOnd. ANd wHEn I beNT doWN to DRInk, I sAw mY haNDs.

TheY weREn't MINE.

ThEY weRE Its hANds.

AnD WHen I lOokED inTO tHe wATeR to sEe my fACe, I sAW… I SAw… NoTHinG.

NotHInG. No fACe.

I haVE nO fAce.

whATamIhOwAmIhELpmEwhysOhUNgRyWHathAvEIbECoMe?

LEavE

LeAVinG the cAVe TOdaY. FiRSt tiMe iN daYS. HaVe to. GoInG crAZy In HEre.

Is niGHt ouT. WalKINg to FInd wATer. FiNd FOOD.

So huNGry. So thiRStY. CrAvING mEAt.

CrAVInG BloOD…

pAiNFuL

WhAteVEr wAS in mY BAck is gONe nOW. FeLt mY sKIn TEar. ReALly huRT baDly. But oNly fOR a SEConD.

BacK feELs bETteR noW.

FinGErs toO loNG for KEyS keEP sLIPp

wHerE aM i whAT Is

ArMs aREn't mOVing RIght. LEgs EIthEr. MoVIng liKe RUBber. MOUth hURts toO. BaDly. FeELs liKe a buNcH of NEedLEs in mY gUMs.

FeELs liKe I haVE a seCOnD sKin oN my cHEst, leGs, aNd ARms. ToO tHIck. HaD to tAKe ofF cloTHes, THey weRe toO tiGHt.

SEEm to Be LOsinG my hAIr. CaN't feEL mUCh of iT leFt aNYmORe. WHy do hANds feel so BIG?
So huNGry.

So HUngrY.

sTARviNg

HAven't leFt the caVe for dAYs. WaLking toO HArD. Can't See anYThinG it's sO dARk. GOtta leAVe soOn; I'm lOSing it. KeeP seeINg tHinGs. So thIrSty. CraVIng raW meaT.

JoiNTs stiLL acHe Bad. MaNAged tO sTAnd. FunNY, dOn't remEMbeR cave ceILing beiNg thiS low.
Skin's BEen peELing ofF in bIG CHunks.

FeELs leSs iTchy nOw.

Back HUrts so bAd sTill. FeLt it; thERe's all thESe Big, wEIrd-shAPed wElts. WheN I tOUch them, soMEThinG inSIde theM moVes.

Why Do I FEel so sKINny? Why aM I so HUngRy?

NEed to Eat soON or I'll DIE.

WRonG

OH gOd HElp me There's soMEthing VerY WRonG witH ME I have tO be SEeinG thinGs dEar God pleaSe tell me I'm Seeing thinGs!

I cUt my haNd on a sHArp ROck in the caVe toDay. And wHEn I LOokEd at tHe bLEediNg wouNd, whEn I looKEd, I alMOst faiNTed. My bLood wAsn't red.

It was bLAck. Pitch, oILy, midNIght blaCk, and reEKinG of iron oRe and LEaf roT.

Oh mY God, wHAt's HAPpenInG to Me?

cAnT tHINk sTrAGht

Don'T kNow how LonG I've been cUrled up in this cavE for.

SoRry if the lettErs are sHaky. tHe COMpuTer is NoT wORKinG rIGht. NO iDeA WHy.

I sWear everything looks shorTer nOw. I swear, I'm not CraZY, I'M nOt!

JoiNts still acHe. It's likE I'm beinG pUlled apart.

StiLL so, sO itchy. My sKin's bleAChing itself. Please, plEase believe me. You have To. You NEED TO.

Can't tell What'S a Shadow and what's NOT anyMorE. LosINg so mUCh wEIghT so FaSt. ToO faSt.

Back acHes. Feels like someTHing's curled up In IT. It KeEps moving ARounD. WriTHing.

Oh GoD. I hope I don't Have a wOund that's infeCted with maggOts or someTHing. That's All I nEed right noW…

Nope.

Given up on walking today. I just don't feel like I have the strength to. Just too sick. Too exHausted.

I keep sweAting and seeing things. Seeing shadows of that thing in my peripheral Vision, but that's impossible. It's dead, isn't it? I killed it. And I achE all over. Every joint, tendon, and muscle in my body hates me right now. Feels like I'm being stretched on a rack.

Besides, I've vomited Five times in the past hoUr alone. I can't even keep water dowN.

There's something really wrong with the vomit though. It's not clear, like when you haven't had anything to eat. It's white. Milky white. It looks almost like I ate chalk, and it tastes like I swallowed road kill.
Skin still itches badly, and it's starting to peel a bit now. It's insanely pale underneath where it's peeling. Unnaturally pale. What the Hell did that thing do to me?

It's getting hard to type. My fingers ache. Have to stop. Feel dizzy.

No Sleep.

Oh shit. Damn.

These nightmares… they keep coming back. They keep happeNing.

Why dO they keep happening?

That thing alWays gave me plenty of nightmares, of course. But these ones… these are dIfferenT. And far more horrifying.

In these ones, I'm chasing myself. I'm in the forest and I'm chasing myself through the trees. My dream self can't run from me, not for long; I always catch up to hIm eventually. He screamS when I find him, horrible, fearful screams.

Then I pick him up easilY, bringing him up tO my face, looking over the terror in his eyes. I smile.
And then I open my moUth inhumanely wide, and I swallow him whole. Jesus... the sounds are so Real. I can actually taste blood in my mouTh, and I can feel and hear the bones crUnching between my teeth.

What happens next, though, is faR more horrific and much worse.

I walk to a Nearby glassy pond, and bend down to scoop water up with my hands to wash the blood from my face. But when I look into the water at my reflection, I don't see myself.

I see the thing, staring back at me. And when I scream, I realize that I am the thing.

I always wake up panicking and screaming. Every single time I have that nightmare, I wake up in a cold sweat. And I keep having the same fucking dream, over and over again every single night.

Oh God. Oh Christ, I...

It's so, so real. So damn awfully real…

It's Just illness. It has to bE. Just a fever dReam I bet! All part of what's causing the nausEa and tiredness. I bet I'M just getting delirious in mY sickness. I'm not going nuts, I'm not still being stalked by that thing. It's only a fever dream!

But if that's all it really is, then why does the nightmare last so long, and why does it feel so damn much like I'm wide awake during it?

Not Feeling Well...

Been kinda tired and nauseous since about a day ago. Haven't really felt well since I killed that thing, really. Been looking awful pale, too. Just my luck. I probably got poisoned from Its blood or something. That would just be the perfect end to my running, wouldn't it? Killed by toxic blood. Maybe I'll mutate into a superhero too - the Amazing Bow-Man.

Yeah, like that's gonna happen.

Hands are feeling better today. The boils and black staiNs are mostly gOne, but now I'm iTching like crazy. Mostly on my hands, but it's all over the rest of my bOdy, too. The skin's all red and inflamed, like a mosquito bite but eVerywhere. It's driving me nuts!

I neEd to Rest some, I'm sure another day in the cave would do me good. Who knows? Maybe getting some sleep will help me get through whatever the hell this is. And since that thing's gone, I should sleep plenty soundly.

Thank God. I think I've had more than enough nightmares for one lifetime.

It Worked.

Oh my God, it worked. I can't believe it, but it actually worked.

I actually shot It. And I shot It no less than four times before It finally caught on to where I was.

I got it in Its leg first, where its knee should have been. This thing's legs are so absurdly thin that the arrow actually went through the leg. I saw It wince visibly, then watched as It looked down at the arrow, as if It understood what was happening. As if It knew.

I shot It in the shoulder next, while It was still preoccupied with the first arrow, and It quickly began to grow angry. As It began to search for me, Its tentacles slid out, flailing in displeasure like dying worms. It was sickening to watch, but I noticed, not without a little smugness, that it was limping as it walked. I continued to watch as Its frustration mounted, watched as It wiped at the tar-like blood weeping from Its fresh wounds, and calmly nocked another arrow.

Never once did It so much as try to remove the arrows. It was far too enraged at this point to care about them, far too busy trying to find and punish me for the injuries It had sustained. Its folly. My opportunity.
The third shot buried itself deeply into Its torso, near where a human being would keep their liver, and the thing's blood began to well around the wound, staining Its black suit even blacker yet. And suddenly, as Its absurd, branch-like arms began to curl around Itself, It did something I've never seen or even heard of It ever doing before, not from other Runners, not even from my research online.

It screamed.

I can only describe that hellish noise as a scream because that's the closest thing that I can even approximate It as doing. Its blank face seemed to split open suddenly and hinge-like, revealing row after row of sharp, needle-like teeth and a long, worm-like black tongue. And the sound It made, the sound… God, it's really hard to describe it. It was less of a scream, really, and almost more like anguished static. Almost a cry of pain.

It felt pain.

It doubled over in agony and shuddered slightly, almost imperceptibly, the way the leaves of a tree might in the breeze. Its back was to me now as It stood entirely still for a moment. The awful maw It had before was now nowhere to be seen, melded back into Its non-existent features as if it had never been there in the first place. Its once wildly writhing tentacles were now curled furtively and protectively around Its impossibly thin body, trying to prevent any more pain and blood loss. Trying to shield Itself from my harsh blows.

For a second, I almost pitied It, standing there in pain and shaking so miserably. But only for a second, and then my common sense kicked back in. That thing… that awful, hideous thing doesn't deserve my pity. Not one bit of it.

I nocked a fourth and final arrow, and when I let it go, it hit the creature somewhere slightly above where the kidney would be on any other animal. Massive amounts of oily black liquid spilled from the wound, and the creature cried out a final time before It finally fell, collapsing awkwardly to the ground below in an absurd-looking tangle of limbs.

I watched the thing a while, watched It shudder in the leaf rot and fern beds beneath It. Even in Its death throes, It continued to try to shield Itself from still more arrows. For a moment, It seemed almost genuinely surprised that It had been so grievously injured, but then… Then It looked to the symbols on the trees around It, and then to the arrows in Its body, and It began to tremble – and this time, Its shaking was far more violent and far more familiar. It understood. It knew.

And It was afraid.

Somehow that made me feel a lot better, knowing It, too, could fear things. Particularly me. How does it feel being the prey, you son of a bitch? Not so much fun being the hunted party, is it?

It still hadn't died after about twenty minutes, so I picked up my jackknife and, steeling myself, began to walk towards It. The nausea kicked in within about five feet of It, stronger than before – probably a defense mechanism on Its part to deter me. But I ignored the urge to vomit that rose in my stomach and continued onward.

It must have sensed me coming, because Its pale, featureless head swiveled weakly towards me, and It extended a tentacle in an effort to push me away. But It didn't have enough strength to manage it, and I easily brushed the rough, bark-like extension away from me. Its invisible gaze penetrated me as I approached still closer, almost as if asking why I had hurt It so. Almost pleading. As if begging me for mercy.

Fuck, no. Not after it made my life a living hell for the past month.

I brought out the jackknife and flicked it open, now standing within mere inches of the thing. It watched me eyelessly, still shaking in dread, still too weak to move. It seemed to regard me with a mix of fear and curiosity, still seeming to beg me to stop.

Then, suddenly, It seemed to realize something, something It hadn't previously considered, and I felt Its unseen gaze shift from fear to an awful sense of knowing. And in that instant, It immediately stopped Its shaking and remained fully motionless. Terribly, entirely motionless. It was like It actually wanted me to kill It, and yet… Yet that gaze never left me. Still It seemed to question just why I thought I had to do this. But It knew. It surely knew. It had to. Why else would It have chased me this long if It didn't?

I didn't want to contemplate it further, and I sure as Hell didn't want to know what It was thinking. I just plunged the knife deep into Its neck, and It once more shrieked that unearthly, terrible, static-filled shriek as currents of Its inky, thick blood drenched my hands, burning hot where it touched. And finally, after a few moments more of Its silent staring, I felt its gaze slowly fade and disappear entirely.

I... I think I killed It.

I killed It.

Sable, oily liquid stains the ground around It, reeking of iron ore and leaf rot. All the plants touched by the fluid are starting to die too, as if sprayed with defoliant, as if the very soil was deadly poison. Its blood burns skin, by the way – I'm currently nursing some nasty acid burns where it got on my hands as I'm writing this. The skin's actually boiled up in places and stained black where it hit, like I got ink all over my fingers. Hurts like crazy. Good thing I know where to find plants that can ease the pain somewhat.

I'm leaving tomorrow for the forest's edge. Maybe now that I've fiNally killed that thing, I can mOve on and live my life again.

God, I hope so.

Opportunity

I'm exhausted and my wrists hurt like Hell.

After I managed to get away, I found a small cave, obscured by pines, to call home for now. It's not much, but it's out of the way and not easy for something as tall as It to get in to. I spent all day building another makeshift blind, this time keeping a more careful eye out for any sign of It.

I was also up all last night carving flint arrowheads, carving them with the symbol, and mounting them onto sticks I found. It wasn't easy work, but I now have a good twenty-five or so arrows, each one marked with that weird symbol in the center. I'm in the blind now, and for good measure I carved that symbol on a bunch of trees nearby, scratched it in the dirt – everywhere. If what some of my confidantes online said about that symbol was true, then this is sure to draw It in. Gotta use the right bait for the right animal.

I have my bow and arrows close by, and I even drew the symbol onto my jackknife for good measure. It's not getting away from me and I'm not running from It anymore. Not this time.

Let's see how It likes being hunted for a change.

Escaped.

Oh my God my hands are shaking so bad.

It's close, still so damn close... Maybe even right behind me, lurking just outside my field of vision... but still so very, very nearby.

It was right there.

When I went to leave the barn, It was waiting for me right outside the double doors. Oh my God, It wasn't even three feet away from me.

I swear the nausea was so bad I almost fainted from it. But the fear was so, so much worse…

It almost got me.

It almost got me, and I had no idea that It was even there.

I shouldn't even be writing right now. I should be running until I find somewhere safer, somewhere to lie low that It doesn't know about yet. Until I get out of Its territory. But I had to hide just long enough to stop and tell you how I got away, because I found something out about It while trying to escape. Something incredibly, deeply important.

Something that anyone reading this, anyone being hunted by It, must know.

See, It almost got me because of where I was standing when I left the barn. It had managed to corner me when I tried to run out of shock, trapping me between Itself and the barn wall. The woodpile for my fire pit was blocking my path on one side and was far too tall to safely climb over. Even if I did manage it, I surely would have twisted or broken something on the way down. I was almost on my knees. I thought for sure I was dead. Oh God, Its arms… So long, and so thin as they reached for me… I kept wanting to walk towards It, into Its awful embrace, and only my nausea was holding me back. If I hadn't been that insanely ill from Its influence…

I would be dead and impaled on a tree somewhere by now had it not been for the scrap of tree bark in the ashes of my nearby fire pit, the bark with Its half-burnt symbol still etched into it. I had never been so grateful to see something related to It in my entire life.

I picked it up and threw it at the thing, that awful, slender thing in front of me, as hard as I could. I had hoped that doing so would distract It for a second, just long enough so I could make a break for the nearby tree line. What happened instead surprised and amazed me.

When that chunk of bark collided with Its mockery of a shoulder, glancing off of the black, fabric-like skin over it, It visibly shook. But not in shock. It was almost more like It winced.

It... winced?

The thing stared at me a second, as if taken aback at what had just happened, and It brought Its pale and broad-palmed, abnormal hand up to Its shoulder. Something slick, oily, and pitch black dripped from between its skeletal fingers, smelling faintly of leaf rot and iron ore. It seemed confused and startled at what had happened, because It stepped back, just a bit.

And then roughly five or six tentacles sprouted from Its back, clearly an expression of anger at my attack.

Its distraction with Its injury lasted just long enough for me to bolt for it, and I had to have been too far away for It to grab by the time It finally recovered from Its shock and anger, because It began to chase me. I didn't hear It, mind you; that thing makes absolutely no noise when It moves. But I knew It was after me. I could feel It after me. When I finally got the courage to look behind me, It was nowhere to be found. But I still didn't dare stop running. Not for a second.

And it's only now, now that I've finally gotten a chance to rest and write, that I realize what that sick black liquid was, and why It shuddered when It got hit.

That piece of carved-up bark, marked with the strange symbol, was just sharp enough to cut It, and that black fluid was Its blood. It was cringing because I'd hurt It, and It was bleeding.

It can bleed.

If It bleeds, I can kill It. And that symbol must be key to defeating It somehow. So if a single piece of sharp bark with that symbol on it was enough to cut It…

Just imagine what an arrowhead with that symbol on it could do.

YOU LITTLE SHITHEADS

This is starting to piss me right off. You wanna know what I found when I got up to go foraging this morning?

More of those damned symbols! More and more of them, everywhere, all over every damn tree! I'll strip the bark off every godforsaken tree in this hellish forest if I have to!

Animals haven't been coming through here anymore because of that damn symbol. Makes it real hard to hunt.

At least I have enough arrows for when I have to leave. And that's going to have to be very, very soon. I'm not making the same mistake of waiting until It finds me like I did at the cabin.

I'm taking the twine from the barn with me when I go. Could be useful. Even as I write this, I'm finishing up with supply gathering.

I'll be gone long before noon hits. The woods are getting more and more unfriendly these days, and I need as much of a head start as I can get.

More Symbols.

There's more of the symbols today. And they're closer to the barn now.

I've started stripping those trees of their bark. I don't know what the Hell that symbol means. But I'm not taking chances. What if that symbol attracts It?

What is with these stupid kids up here? This really isn't funny, you little shits.

Unless they're not just kids.

Unless they're really on Its side, and they have been all along.

Unless they – and It – already know where I live, and have been toying with me all this time. And I would never even have known, not until it was too late.

Call me paranoid if you want. But again, I'm not taking any chances anymore. Not where It is concerned.

As for the bark I stripped, I threw it in my fire pit and used it for kindling. I watched it catch fire and burn.
Except, it didn't burn. All it did was char.

That symbol… whatever power that symbol has because of It…

It's not of anything good or holy. It's not of God. And if it's not of God... then what in the Hell is It?

Found Something.

Set up a makeshift blind today. I have to start hunting for bigger game or I'll starve. I can't survive on berries alone. I found some flint for arrowheads and some old bird feathers, and the barn has some spools of baling twine in it. As for the rest of the arrow, well, there's no shortage of sticks in a forest.

No sign of It today, at least not in the flesh. Good. It doesn't know where I am. Yet. But I did see something that might be related to It today. That is, I think it is, if what some of my friends online have said is true.

Seems in the middle of last night, some joker decided to carve a weird symbol into a bunch of the trees not far from the barn. I drew it, looks a bit like this:

Probably some kid that did it. Stupid kids. Do they think messing around with that thing is a game? They think it's funny to risk their lives and mine?

Because they won't be laughing if they're unfortunate enough to meet It.

I don't think I like this one bit. Not one bit.

I'm Sorry.

I didn't mean to end on such a worrisome note last time. But I had to get away from It. It was trying to break the glass to get at me.

It almost did.

I'm okay, though. Shaken, but alive. I'm hiding in an old barn right now, with big double-doors that I barred shut so It can't get in.

I guess I should probably explain what happened back at the cabin.

I was sitting about a foot from the second-floor window. It was right up against that window, right against the glass, staring in right at me. I say "staring" because I'm positive I felt Its awful, unearthly gaze burning into me, despite It having no eyes to gaze with. Its hand was pushing against the window glass, pressing against it like a child would press their hands up to a candy store window. Like It was eager to get to me. God… the palm alone on that hand had to be at least as big as my head, and the fingers… Its awful, spidery, too-long fingers, ending in sharp, claw-like tips that

I-I'm sorry, I can't write about It anymore. I'm starting to panic just describing It.

I wasn't even thinking about It at the time, though. I just ran. Turned and bolted out an exit It hadn't noticed. I'm sure It gave chase for a while before It finally gave up, unable to find me. Thank God It didn't. I haven't slept since I got here two days ago because of what happened at that house. I'm so tired I'm starting to see things. I'm jumping at every little shadow that even so much as vaguely looks like It now, and I'm exhausted… but I can't sleep. When I tired before I had nightmares about It. About being hunted by It. Of course, letting me have a decent night's sleep woudl be too damn much to ask for, wouldn't it?

Dear God, I don't know what to do anymore. It keeps finding me every time I try to run away. It watches me when I go to find food and It follows me back to my hideout when I do. It can find me whenever It wants so long as it waits long enough – and It knows that. I don't even know what It wants from me. I swear to God I'm losing it. I can't live like this anymore. I have to find some way to make It go away, to stop It. I have to.

But there just isn't one. I can't find anything anywhere that can help me out, I even asked for help from others online where I could, and they all said the same thing - I'm living under a damn death sentence.

All because I went hunting, and I saw It once.

I'd shoot myself with my bow if I had any arrows left. But I used them up trying to shoot It the other day when It started getting too close while I was out foraging. The arrows didn't even stick. All I succeeded in doing was making It very, very angry.

… You know that thing has tentacles? I saw them come out of Its back after I shot at It. I didn't stick around to see more, but there had to have been at least ten or fifteen of the damn things.

… I need to see if I can find a wireless signal and get online tonight. I have to ask the others for advice. Maybe I'll find other people who will know how I can keep hidden from It.

Hell, they have to know something. Because if they don't, if they don't, I'm seriously this shy from just ending it all right now. I have a hunting knife on me, for gutting and skinning deer. I could easily do it now. I could die now and It would never get me. Never.

Oh God, listen to me. I sound like a madman.

But I can't do it. I can't bring myself to die. And I can't keep running forever, I just… I…

I just can't do this anymore…

Scared.

Heaven help me.

I've been moving around a lot. Been trying to only stay in one spot for a little while. I've camped some, I've slept in makeshift lean-tos some nights, sometimes I've found some structures to stay in. I never stay in one spot too long; I keep a careful watch. So how does It keep finding me?

I saw It again today, just as persistent as ever. Just as patient. But I think It's starting to get frustrated that I keep running, because this time I saw It moving. I managed to make it back to my cabin before It got too close, but It's still out there. It keeps patrolling around the perimeter like some sort of awkwardly thin soldier. Sometimes It seems to hover off the ground, gliding. Sometimes It walks on two stilt-like legs, sometimes on many more...

I'm sure It's trying to get in at me. I'm sure It knows I'm in here, and It's trying to find a way inside. I've been stealing quick looks at It from my second-floor window as It makes Its rounds around the building to see where It is. That thing doesn't move anything like any animal I've ever seen.

You know how earthworms move, how they curl up and squirm around? You know that long-legged, graceful gait deer have? Ever seen the way a bird's leg bends back at the knee joint, backwards from ours?

It moves like all three. At once.

God, knees shouldn't bend both forward and back like that. And arms shouldn't move like they're rubber bands.

Some of the articles I read on It, some of them called It "Slender Man". Fuck that, this thing isn't a man.

I'm sitting here curled up on the floor as I type this. It's close. Very, very close. I know It's nearby because every time It gets close I get terribly nauseous.

Been keeping low. Maybe if I keep curled up, maybe It won't see me. But the windows of this little cabin are pretty thin. If… if It only hit them hard enough…

No, Jeremy. Don't. Don't go there; just stay down and don't panic. It wants you to panic. Besides, even if you managed to get out in time there's no way you could run from something that insanely fast.

There's tapping on the windows now. Very softly, so softly you could mistake it for a tree branch scraping against the glass. But you know better than that, don't you, Jeremy? You know better.

Oh God, that sound…

Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tap.

Like that. Sounds almost like that, almost random. Almost playful.
Oh Jesus Christ, It's taunting me. That's gotta be why It's doing this. It's amused by my fear. And the sounds keep getting closer. Closer to where I am.

Oh God, does It already know?




Stay calm, jer, keep typing, stay calm, don't panic now. It doesn't matter if you feel like you're about to throw up. It doesn't matter if you feel like breaking down crying right now. Just. Stay. Fucking. Calm.

Wait, the sound… it just stopped. The scraping just stopped… And I don't feel so sick anymore…

Did… did It just leave? Is It really gone?

Oh Christ my pulse is pounding like crazy and I can't stop crying it's getting hard to type I'm shaking so bad

Calm. Down. Jeremy. Right now. Calm down. Breathe. Keep typing and breathe.

... I should check. I have to. I have to know if It's gone. I'll have to run again; I can't stay here anymore… what if It comes back? What if next time, It's not content with tapping on my windows? I need to at least check real quick. I need to see if

Oh God It's right fucking there staring at me oh God oh God

It's Still After Me.

God, I really can't shake this fucking thing, can I? I don't know how It keeps finding me, but it always, always does. It knows where I am at all times, and It's after me for God only knows what reason.

I've been running for about a week now, Hell if I know where to. I'm somewhere Up North, that's the only place I could think of to run to. Back where I first saw It.

Yeah, Jeremy, that's smart. Go back to Its home turf. See where that gets you.

For the first time in my life, I actually hate the forest now. But where else can I go? It'll follow me regardless! I'm at my wit's fucking end and I can't take being chased like an animal anymore. I've been flying blind and and getting nowhere. Nowhere.

Of course I tried to get help. That's why I started talking about that thing here, on this blog, to prove It's real. To prove I'm not really losing it. I swear to God I'm not! I asked the police up here for help, but every time I call, they don't find squat and I look like a mental case. So I did some online research instead, shacked up in a hotel with some free Wi-fi. And what I found out…

This thing… I'm not the only one being stalked by It. I'm... I'm not alone. That's the only good news.

The bad news is that nobody knows any way to stop It.

The even worse news is that the more you know about It, the harder It tries to catch you. I know more about It now than ever before, and just as I've feared, It's gotten more… aggressive. More persistent.

And... shit, now you know about It, too, don't you?

Oh God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I have to tell someone. I have to prove I'm really being followed by this thing. Why are any of you even still reading this damn journal, anyway?

But you can't stop reading now. Please. I need to know I'm not alone out there. I need some support. Any support. Anything at all...

Dear God, please…

THIS IS NOT FUCKING STRESS

It was fucking waiting for me to get home.
It was standing behind my damn shed, where I keep my compound bow and arrows.

It knows where I keep my weapons. Whatever this thing is, It's smart, and it's after me.

I can't even begin to explain how panicked I was to see It just standing there like it was my damn next-door neighbor or something. I ran right the hell inside and bolted all the doors and windows shut. But that just made It more persistent.

I've spent the last three days locked inside my house, and every time I look outside I see It standing in the same damn spot. Day in. Day out.

It's waiting for me to come outside. Waiting for me to falter.

No. I am not fucking doing this, I'm not gonna sit here and do nothing until my damn food runs out. It can't see into my bedroom, not with the curtains closed and shut.

I'm packing a bag full of clothes, my spare string bow and arrows, and my damn laptop. Gonna try and sneak out to my car, I think I can make it to the garage if I'm quiet enough. I think I can make it out of here without alerting it if I'm careful. Surely It can't keep up with my car, can It?

Wish me luck.

Sick Leave

Sick leave? Are you fucking kidding me? I can't go on sick leave, I need the money!

This is all that... that thing's fault, the suit thing. I was sitting at my drill press on the assembly line, over by the window. Looking out of it, like I usually do. Looking out at the little cherry tree. I didn't do anything but glance up for a second.

It was back.

It was standing near the big ash by the parking lot, across the street. At first I thought it was one of the directors coming in for a meeting, so I payed no attention to it.

Then I started to feel nauseous. You know that queasiness you get when you wanna throw up, but you can't? It was like that, mixed with a little dizziness. I had to shut the drill press off so I didn't hurt myself, that's how bad I felt.

Then I stumbled over to the waste bin to spew, the murmurs of my coworkers expressing their concern humming around me like bumblebees. I didn't even realize why I was so sick until I looked up and out the window again.

Jesus H. Christ, It was standing right there at the window.

Watching.

Waiting.

I dunno what exactly happened, but I think I must have blacked out. All I remember is waking up and seeing the floor manager standing over me, looking concerned.

That's when he told me he didn't think I looked well, that maybe I should take sick leave. Something about me screaming about faceless guys in suits, then fainting. Said he thought it must have been stress, that I'd acting weird for the last couple of days.

Stress my ass. That wasn't stress. It was that thing, that thing in the suit. But hell, what do I know? It was just fucking stress and clearly I need to get laid off from my job over it!

Guess me seeing it again on the drive home and nearly ending up in a ditch was just stress too, huh, boss?

Oh Jesus Christ...

It got too close to the blind too fucking close to the blind.

It isn't a fucking mask.

It doesn't have a face.

And It's staring right at me.

How The Hell...

Did that guy follow me back to Ypsi? How did he even know where the Hell I live?

Who is this guy and what the Hell does he want? I went to go hunting this morning, not even two days after I got home, and there he was, standing in the damn undergrowth like some kind of pervert stalker.

Got a better look at him. Not sure what he's got over his face, but it makes him look totally faceless. And it looks pretty damn realistic, like skin...

Creepy fucker. He gets much closer I'm gonna shoot the bastard for making me so damn nervous.

Gonna Cut Short This Year

Dammit, I can't do this anymore. I'm having shit poor luck bagging anything, haven't seen a single deer for a week now. How am I having such awful luck?

One thing I have been seeing more of is that weird scarecrow guy, though. Yeah, pretty sure it's not a trick of the light anymore. He never does anything, just stands there watching. Watching me.

And another thing, It keeps edging closer to the blind. Bit by bit. Why's this guy so interested in me anyway? Hasn't he seen another bow-hunter before?

I don't like it. I don't like whatever that guy is up to, and I can't focus when he's around me. I get nervous, every single time, and it's throwing off my aim. Hell, it wasn't even worth it this year anyway, not for two does.

Maybe I'll have better luck back home...

Deer and Other Critters

Today wasn't the best day for Jer so far. Managed to bag some does for venison stew, but it just wasn't a good morning. It was just... how do I put this...?

Better start from the beginning, I guess.

Had to have been just about 5:00 in the morning - right at the crack of dawn - and I had just finished setting things up in my blind for the day. I'd just readjusted my compound bow the other night, and I had a whole quiver of the brand new broadheads I bought for it. I'd been having good luck so far. No big trophy bucks yes, but I did drop a doe with some good meat on her. She'll make some good stew, maybe some jerky.

Anyway, I was camping in the blind, and I heard a rustling out in the bushes, so I peeked out into the shadowy forest below. It was pretty hard to see though; the pines up here get awful thick. Sometimes they even block out light, it's like night in some parts of the forests up here.

That's when I saw him. A big, beautiful 16-point buck, absolutely beautiful. But for some reason, he looked awful skittish. Not common behavior for bucks during rutting season, or any season for that matter. Not to the degree that he was spooked.

I was tracing him with my eye when he stopped walking just long enough to stare off towards the tree line a moment. Just... staring off into the brush, like he was on his guard. Must've seen something he didn't like in his territory. But it gave me a perfect opportunity to nail him – his folly, my opportunity.

God, this still pisses me off: I had a clear shot, perfectly lined up and everything. Right at the base of the skull; it would've dropped him instantly. But then he bolted on me, just bolted into the undergrowth like all Hell's demons were on him.


"Shit," I murmured softly under my breath, putting the bow aside. It couldn't have been worse luck. I'd have to scout some more, see if I could catch another deer coming, maybe even put down some more musk.

But as I peered out of my blind to scout, binoculars in hand, I suddenly felt… watched. You know that creepy little feeling you get when someone's in the room, but you can't see them anywhere? Yeah, I got that feeling all over, and little chills down my spine. I'd be lying if I said it didn't freak me out.

And that's when things got sort of weird. After I'd been looking around a bit, I suddenly noticed something a little… off about the distant pines. Something wrong. Looked like a whitish blur in the trees or something. At first I thought it was the markings on a bird or something, seeing as it was so high up in the branches, but it didn't have the shape of any bird I'd ever seen. Not a lot of white birds around the Upper Peninsula, after all.

So, curious, I brought my binoculars to my face and adjusted them to get a better look.

I wish to God Above I hadn't. Because what I saw…

Hell, I'm not even sure of what I did see.

It was a man. Or at least that's what it looked like. Stood like one. Was dressed in some kind of pitch-black suit and tie like he was one. But thing was, he was kinda weird-looking. For one, he was taller than any man I'd ever met. My blind's a good eight feet off the ground in a beech tree. This guy stood at least thirty feet away and still could have looked me straight in the eye.

For another, he was so thin that "emaciated" doesn't even begin to cover it, and his arms were pretty damn long. Looked like they could have reached the ground, but I'm sure that was just a trick of the light or something. At first I thought it was a scarecrow on an adjacent farm or something, but no - I felt eyes on me. Its eyes, even though I couldn't see any from where I was. No, this was something living, of that I was pretty certain.

I'm gonna gut the two does I dropped this afternoon, then head to the butcher. Maybe I can get some jerky off the smaller one for later while I'm hunting, I could use some snacks.

Some Introductions

So I guess a few of the newer folks from the Bowhunting forums wanted to know a bit more about me. Wouldn't be the first time I was asked!

Name's Jeremy Anderson. I'm 25, live in Ypsilanti, MI. There's some great forests up here, good places to track, and the UP's just beautiful in the fall. Lake Superior in the fall, God, it's just gotta be seen to be believed. There's a little place called Sugarloaf Mountain you can hike, and you can see all across the forest and the lake. Damn, if that's not living, seeing a sight like that. My dayjob's at an automotive plant, I run metal-punching machinery. We've got hydrojet cutters for the more precise stuff, but I don't operate those. just the sheetmetal cutters. It's nice though, I have a window view, with this little weeping cherry tree out nearby. Small thing, frail and slender. Reminds me almost of a sad woman, but it's gorgeous in the spring when it blossoms.

That's another thing we have a lot of up here. Cherries! Enough that you could choke on 'em.

As you'd guess, I'm really not a huge fan of cherries. More of an apple kind of guy. Speaking of which, you can use apples as deerbait, but I wouldn't really recommend it. Most does won't go for it and most bucks... well, you all know how they get when they rut. Angry buggers, and if you use apples as bait, you'll need to get close. Deer can eat an apple quicker than you'd think; just the other day I saw a little fawn and its mother go across my neighbor's yard, grabbing the fallen apples like they were candy. The little fawn kept on trying to keep up!

Better cut off here, gotta pack for my trip up north and that's a day-long drive! I'll be tired just from going over the bridge, so I probably won't get back to you until a day from now, after I get some early morning hunting in.

Hunting Season

Name's Jeremy. Thought I'd start up a blog, maybe get some fellow bowhunters engaged in some discussion, maybe trade tips.

So, hunting season. It's coming up! Are you prepared? Got your bow ready? I know mine's been sitting in the shed since last fall, collecting dust. Been waiting to get back up to Rock and do some Whitetail hunting. Maybe bag a turkey or two, but mostly after that big trophy buck this year. Just went out and got some nice new broadheads to do the job too, since my old ones were getting shabby (and I broke one last year when I missed and it hit a damn tree - almost had him, too!).

Just a thought for you new bowmen (and ladies) out there - might wanna get your license a bit early this year. It's gonna be a rough season with the wasting disease that hit the deer last summer. Guess it's some form of encephalitis that only hits deer, elk, etc. Head shots should be safe, apparently it's not contagious to humans, but I wouldn't let the carcass set anywhere you store livestock for the winter, or with other carcasses. Best to keep an eye out for those deer with their head down, the ones that look sick. You'll know when you see it.

Good luck on your hunts, maybe I'll be seeing some of you folks out there in the forest.