u/DoubtOk4107

I got home late from my job at around four in the morning after a long shift from one of our towns local bars, I had the whole of my day off tomorrow planned out, sleeping in till the afternoon then pizza and movies until I had to go to bed but when I woke to the sound of an alert on my phone that was much more powerful than my standard phone alarm could hope to be, I shot up alert in bed as if I was expecting to be dragged from under the covers out the door. I wiped the sleep from my eyes to see what the hell my phone was making so much noise over, so when my vision focused to see the huge message laid out in red on my home screen, my heart began to pump faster at the sight of “STAY INSIDE”. 

I got out of bed, my heart beating faster. I couldn’t help but think about the thousands of different implications this message had. The most obvious solution to me knowing what was going on was to just open my drapes and look outside. But I couldn’t help but delay myself. In my mind and in those few seconds between seeing that message and waking up, my perception of those drapes changed drastically from just keeping out the sun to keeping out any threat that may be just lingering behind them.

I decided I would rather check on social media to see what was happening, as if it would make a difference. It was like I could pretend it was happening to someone else. I was already a borderline recluse aside from going to work, so this might be the poke over the edge into a full paranoid hermit breakdown. Everything I tried to look up about what the message meant was being taken down in front of me. Every post that dared to ask “What’s happening outside?!” or “Have you seen what’s happened to them?” was promptly removed for breaking some rule I’m sure they made up on the spot. The only slight piece of evidence I was able to see was about five seconds of a video, which I could tell was taken in the centre of town. In those short few seconds, I saw what looked to be some sort of greyish powder falling gently downwards towards the people enjoying their weekend out in the summer festival, who pointed upwards nervously at the strange sight. 

The video was taken down before anything more happened, but that alone was making me feel unwell. Wrapping myself in my bed to try and take back what coziness was lost, I sat there staring at the window, amping myself up to just go on and take a look already. But that fear of the unknown had already made itself a nice new home inside my amygdala, acting like a set of chains to keep me safe from whatever was lurking just outside.

I needed to talk to my roommate, hopefully they would tell me what I wanted to hear. Some stupid reassurance that would put this whole thing to bed. So when I knocked on her door and walked around the rest of the darkened apartment to find her, I only flicked on the light switch in the kitchen to see the note she had left:

Hey

Heard you were still sleeping, so I’m going to get some food. Text me if you need anything!

Be back soon! 

Sara

My phone buzzed, “Coming back now. Please open the door, forgot my keys”. Now, in the past fifteen minutes, I had seen and heard almost practically nothing from the outside world, so my paranoia was in full swing, whilst other parts of my brain were trying to put out the fire that the first alert had started. *Knock Knock* The sound broke through the fragile silence, jolting me. Sara was back.

I stood there staring at the front door as if I had never seen it before. Why was I waiting? She’s right there behind that door, with answers about the outside world, so I just need to unlock the door and let her in. So why was I shaking so much? *Knock knock* “Could you let me in?” It was her voice. That was a stupid thought I had. Why wouldn’t it be? But still, something was off just ever so slightly with her voice. It had a slight rasp to it as if she was struggling to get the words out. I called out to her nervously, “Sorry, I’m struggling to find my keys, funnily enough, how was town anything happen while you were out?” I was holding my keys to my chest so tightly I thought they would puncture my skin while waiting for her response. “It was fine,” her voice came curtly with more of a hint of anger this time.

“Did you see the alert?” I asked desperately, trying to keep my own voice from falling apart. It felt like a lifetime before she answered, “Oh, that was just a test, you heard on the news they were doing that, right?” Her attitude had changed dramatically as if she was putting everything into this performance. I couldn’t describe the fear I felt in that moment. All of this just feels wrong. I leaned against the door to see through the peephole, but there was only blackness. She was covering it.

I was working up the courage to ask one last question that I knew was going to change everything. This situation wasn’t going away, not until I asked: “Why are you covering the peephole?” Silence. Horrible, deathly silence. The seconds passed like hours before Sara responded in a tone of barely contained rage. “Why are you trying to look at me? There is nothing wrong with me. I’m not like the others”. Taking a few shaky steps back, I listened to her words drop to a barely audible whisper, “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.” she did this for the next few minutes on repeat, while I stood there in the hallway with all colour draining from my face, and before I had another chance to ask a question she began hitting the door.

*BANG!* It was terrifying to listen to, but the door was strong and had no signs of being broken down. I hoped at least not wanting to put that to the test. What Sara was doing was desperate, if she wasn’t going to be let in, she was going to try with everything she had to break down this door. In the meantime, I took chairs and other furniture to put up against the door, while hyperventilating. A short time later, her hits and screams against the unyielding door ceased; soon after, sobs could be heard. Tears were streaming down my face from the stress and betrayal we both probably felt from each other.

I pleaded with her in desperation, “Please just tell me what's happening outside!?” Sara’s cries died down. “Just go outside” was all she said before I could hear her walk away sobbing loudly again, intensifying the guilt I felt tenfold. After I couldn’t hear her anymore, I went and sat down in the living room on the only chair I hadn’t forced up against the front door, then slowly let my eyes drift towards the windows and the drapes that were sealing me in here. It was time to look outside.          

At first, I pull the soft fabric back ever so slightly. I’m fully aware I'm making it worse for myself, but I can’t delay this any longer. I swing the drapes to the side to reveal nothing but the normal sight of the city below, except, where is everyone? I live on the second floor in an apartment complex with a perfect view of the busiest places in town. With my late nights and even later awakenings, the noise they would make at all hours of the day would keep me up for hours. So why was it so quiet now? 

I scanned down below to see if anyone was walking around outside, but nothing. The only thing I could gather was that something had happened to make everyone rush inside. Then I saw it, just about to melt out of sight, the street was covered in some sort of dark pink dust. I tried making sense of it, just to clutch at anything. Maybe it was some sort of petals they put out for a festival, or it was just trash that had been dumped there, all these theories fell flat on their face when I spotted one person taking a brave step outside.

From what I could tell, he was a man in his forties and was just stepping out of a convenience store with a few cautious steps, in the same way you would creep around your house trying not to wake up your parents coming back from a night out. I was so desperate to talk to someone, to help make sense of this, that I was about to open my window to yell at them for help, when the sky started to darken, and it began to snow dark grey dust again.

He turned back quickly, trying to retreat to the safety of the indoors, but when his hands reached for the door, he found it locked. I could see another man standing on the other side of the door, shaking his head in fear at the sight of the weather outside. I could hear the man yelling from up here, “Just let me back in! It hasn't touched me yet. Look!” It was the same type of helpless plea that Sara had done, and just like her, he began to bang against the door in desperation, but by this point, the dust had fallen in little clumps dancing in the air, then gently landed on his head, arms and back, then that’s when he began to scream, and so did I as I watched him change.

The dust seemed to bury itself in his skin, his body became rigid like he was standing at attention, but while his body was stiff, I could see on his bare arms that his skin began to move like some invisible force was pulling it back, treating his body like a toy to suit their sick amusement. The skin on his arms tightened and pulled back, so much that his finger bones started to poke through the skin of his hands, like his flesh was a type of glove and his skeleton was just taking them off, his fingerbones were covered in remnants of sinew and gore as he tore his way out of his own body, then he turned away to face the direction of my building in agony and fear possibly to stop the horrified stares he was receiving from the others behind the windows inside the store. Next, I could see what had happened to his face.

Where the dust had settled on the top of his skull, it seemed to pull with desperation out of the back of his head. A thick flesh bubble had started to form where all the skin was being turned like a crank that was being twisted and turned, so with each twist, all the parts of his face pulled back, his eyes were wider than they had ever been, his ability to blink was taken away, so he had no choice but to watch what happened to himself. His nostrils split and broke, making his cartilage a white translucent beak that pushed the front of his face apart like a t-shirt being torn, his top teeth tore through his lips while the sides of his mouth were pulled back in a nightmarish grin that he had no say in. 

After it seemed like the twisting had stopped, the bubble of gore that sat on his head, which had collected all the pulled muscles, sloughed off slowly, dripping onto the floor. Its work done, it fell to the ground and from what I was able to tell, it was feasting on its bounty. The dark pinkish blob fell apart in seconds, consuming itself like a hungry parasite and melting like strawberry ice cream in the hot sun, leaving what was left of the man now a nightmare standing there in the street with nothing else to do but scream in pain and look at himself with his forced open eyelids at the reflections of the windows around him.

Recoiling from the window in horror, I tried desperately to wipe the sight of his grotesque body from my mind. Had that been what happened to Sara? Was she now wandering around out there, with the same look of constant surprise on her face? While pushing myself off the floor of the living room, the sound of breaking glass could be heard, I didn’t even have to look to know he broke back in through the window of the store. I looked anyway.

The fact that he didn’t go into shock and collapse after suffering was making my guts turn inside out. But I imagine the only thing left that he could feel aside from the obvious pain was the rage and betrayal he felt towards those who abandoned him out there in the dust clouds. Horrified screaming could be heard from inside the store, echoing out through the empty streets. No one was coming to save them, least of all me. All I could do was watch as he dragged the few people into the afternoon overcast and became covered in the same dust.

I hid in shame behind the door of my living room, wrapping my arms around my legs, listening to the cries of all those people as they changed into something you would tell around a campfire. Later when it began to die down I forced myself to look behind the drapes one more time to see if at last the dust cloud had moved on, only to see all the unblinking monsters down below had disappeared all except for one that could still be seen that was dashing for the front doors of my apartment complex, the sound of their wet shoes filled with their own blood slapping against the concrete all with impossibly wide eyes fixed on me.

Their scampering footsteps could be heard from down the hall, while I could do nothing but arm myself with a kitchen knife and hold it tight. The look on their face terrified me. I could see those bloodshot eyes of theirs that now only contained the spark of a madman. Whatever they had been afflicted with, it had not even left them their sanity, almost as if they were compelled to take more people out there in the dust. The door to the hallway on this floor swung open and slammed against the wall.

Others were already inside the building, banging on my neighbour's doors in a false search for sanctuary. They knocked on doors with pleas, "There’s something out here, my Children are in danger!” or lies, “You need to get your family out of here! Please just come outside!” These came from their broken mouths and pulled back grins and were just a ploy to get someone to open the door, and the hoard of nightmares would take care of the rest. It wasn’t too long before all around me I heard the screams of people I barely knew. I looked again through my peephole to see a few people who had poorly chosen to open their doors in hopes of doing the right thing or escaping whatever other monster had been dreamt up. Instead, they were taken quickly, almost paraded through the hall and down the stairs. Or if all else failed, they would resort to bashing down the door, smashing their bones and exposed muscles against the hardwood, whilst everyone, including the people in the hall, wailed. Then, striding across the hall, an almost unfamiliar face returned to greet me, Sara.

Unlike last time, she did not cover the peephole, letting me see what became of her. She was like the others, a feral mad thing whose only purpose was to get others to join in their agony. The worst part was she didn’t say a word, just faced her, now completely exposed eyes right into the hole like she knew I was staring right back at her. I had no idea how long she stayed like that. My body was trembling, and my feet were stuck in place. She knew it was only a matter of time before they got in. Where was I going to go?

It was like watching an execution take place every time they shoved another poor soul outside to be pulled, stretched and moulded into another beast. But after the cruel process finished, they would go to the nearest building to find more. The clouds would activate like a sensor every time another person who hadn’t been torn and stretched stepped into the open.

 I checked compulsively, often hoping Sara would have moved on, but still she stood there waiting. Her eyes must have been in hellish pain, all of them must have been. Over the past few hours, they were now finding it more difficult to find their way around; they were like bats pouncing on whatever small noise dared to make its presence known. Late into the night, Sara and a few others must have gotten tired of waiting for people to come out, so they began to slam their haunting frames even harder against the door. The sound of breaking bones and splattering flesh against wood made me flinch with each attempt. At one point or another, that door is going to give. 

That’s why I’m attempting to post this now. I don’t know why this is happening, or why every time someone tried to get the word out anywhere, it would be taken down. So this is my attempt. I’m trapped in here with nothing but a kitchen knife. I’ve never hurt anyone before, and I still don’t want to because only a few hours ago, those things outside were people. I’m writing this now from the inside of one of my closets, hoping that I stay hidden from them long enough so that they go away. 

They’re inside.

I’ll update this as soon as they leave, so until then, please, if you’re outside, you need to find a place to hide as soon as possible.

Good luck.

The plan was just to have a short camping trip with my dad. I felt terrible when I told him about the job offer I got, but he couldn’t be happier, he just kept smiling and telling me how him and mom were just so proud of me, and all he asked was that i at least come out with him to the woods for one last camping trip, of course I agreed because i had no idea when I was going to have the time after I move. But we shouldn’t have gone.

We both love the woods, my dad more so because of the type of work he does. He’s a nature photographer. He started this as a hobby when he was my age, and after retiring, he was able to start putting out prints to sell online “It's the happiest I’ve seen him in years”, Mom would say. She wasn’t wrong. I went with him occasionally to keep him company, but when he got focused, it was like he turned to stone with that camera in his hands. “I’m trying to get that perfect shot, Danny, it's out there”, was what he would usually say. 

I think he got a bit bored in retirement, and now he was treating this imaginary perfect shot like some sort of white whale, to cope with the boredom. But when we stepped out of his old banged up ford ranger, he told me, told me about the rumours he heard in town about a forgotten trail in the woods up in the mountains with nature that had been undisturbed for possibly decades.

At the beginning of the trail, it was hard to get my dad to start moving, mainly because he took every opportunity he could to take photos. Something was different this time, he was more about quantity than quality, which was unlike his usual style. Brushing this off, we set forth into the wild to bring back his prize, the perfect picture.

We hiked for a few more hours, listening to the sticks crunch and break under our feet, birds tweeting and talking about what my new job would entail and when I would be coming back home for visits, before he spotted the trail. “This is it!” he said excitedly at what looked to be no more than a broken off post like some sort of sad landmark. I was going to ask if he actually knew where we were going, but he was already pushing through the bushes behind the post. I followed him through pushing against the branches while calling out to him to wait up, otherwise we’ll get separated. I was just about to yell for him again when I burst out of the bushes and walked straight into the back of him, almost knocking myself over.

It felt like walking into a tree from the way his feet were rooted to the spot. He just stood there looking out at the forest ahead, only for a few seconds, but time seemed to stretch, making me feel uneasy. I tapped him on the shoulder, to which he reacted as if a bolt of lightning went through him as he jumped and spun around, scaring me at the same time. “Jesus! Sorry Danny I was in my own world there for a second” My heart was still recovering from the jump he gave me “Yeah from now on give me some time to catch up, before you sprint off” He apologised for wandering off while explaining the rumours he had heard on the internet and in town, about how he just had to be out here as soon as possible, that's when I stopped him.

While he was talking about Bigfoots and Mothmen, I noticed just how quiet it was “Hang on, just listen for a second” We stopped dead and listened. No birds, not a tweet, heck, not even any crickets. That’s when the feeling sets in, the one that's hard to explain when you’re in the moment, that impending sense of dread just creeping its head around the corner, like something knows it's got you, it's just a matter of time before you realise it too. It also had the same kind of feeling you get in church, that you’re supposed to keep your voice down, so we did, as if we couldn’t help it. Quietly, we made our way forward deeper into the woods, marking trees with paint along the way, making our own trail to find our way home.

We went on like this until the sun started to set. I had so many questions about what exactly my dad had heard from the town below the mountain, but I wanted to wait until we set up camp for the night. After setting up our tents, gathering wood for the fire, we sat down, a bit more at ease now listening to the crackle and pop of the wood as it burns. Thinking this was a good time for questions, I proceeded to hit him with the ones that had been bothering me more than most. “So why are we in such a rush to get out here, and whys this old trail so special anyway?” Grinning at this, I could tell he was barely containing his own excitement, so he told me.

“Once I got past the initial hoax sightings from people who were all too happy to spill the details on a shadow of a branch on their tent in the night, claiming it to be the goatman himself. I found the real ones, the people who were content to keep their mouths shut on what they had seen for the rest of their lives, that's when you know you’ve got something tangible when their tales start to sound the same. All these people who hadn’t met before, even decades apart between them, all had similar stories about this part of the woods, something not known by man, something that is deep in the heart of this forest that calls out to be discovered, its calling to me and I’m going to photograph it for my last trip out here”.

I perk my ears up at that “Last trip, what do you mean? I’m coming back later in the year so we can do this again” The look on his face said more than he was letting on, he smiled but the sadness in his eyes gave him away “What’s wrong?” My dad had something he wasn’t telling me, and I could see even now that he was going to try to hide it from me. He tried flipping the conversation to anything else, but I held my ground until he relented, letting out the air in his lungs and began to tell me about his diagnosis.

“I didn’t want to tell you until after, I mean, not even your mother knows, but she knows something's wrong. It started slowly this type of stuff always does, a slight case of memory fog is what I thought it was but when I found myself about a twenty minute walk away from home with no idea how I got there, I called the doctor for an appointment” I knew what he was talking about but he kept dodging the words because he knew as well as I did that saying it will make it more real but after a stinging few seconds of silence he said it anyway “ I have early onset dementia son” There it was, the pain in my chest manifested. For the first time in my whole life, I saw my father through and through “This is it, my last time out here, because I don’t want your mother to worry. Because honestly, I shouldn’t be out here now, but I would understand why you would want to go back now, knowing this” He looked up from the floor, looking for some sort of answer across the campfire, the smoke stinging my weeping eyes “Well, do you want to go back now?” His old eyes told me what I already knew “Okay then, but your telling mom when we get back she's owed that at least” Nodding slowly he got up, walked over and hugged me, before we both said goodnight and he turned in, while I stayed up for a while longer to think on what the next few months were going to be like, before hearing a snap of a branch somewhere in the dark in front of me.

The sorrow I felt earlier fled from my body, replaced by fear, while the rational part of my brain sprang to life, already firing on all cylinders. If we had been listening to the sounds of nature on the way up here, I wouldn't have thought too hard about this. But even now, the only sounds of the woods besides the breeze were just us and the crackling firepit we made, so what the hell was out there in the dark? My heart settled once I saw that it was possibly the only animal we had come across so far, it was a deer. I grabbed the old instant Polaroid camera I was given as a Kid from my bag to see if I could quickly snap a picture before it fled. 

I looked into the camera to see that this deer was moving further up the mountain at a snail's pace. From its white fur belly sagging beneath it, I thought it must be getting old. So since it was moving so slowly, I thought I could get a bit closer without startling it to get a better picture. I moved like a bull in a china shop, each step snapping every branch I could find, still the deer moved slowly forward up the mountain as if being pulled on an invisible leash. I decided to stop just ten feet away from it and took the picture, the flash going off was the equivalent of a flashback, lighting up the dark forest for a second before being consumed by the blackness again, and still that deer kept its slow speed steady.

Now I was a little uneasy, my dad would be in hysterics if he saw what I just did to get a picture, because if it were any normal deer, it would have fled the moment I sat up off the floor. So I decided to press my luck, and I stepped in front of it. 

I was expecting to see the white milky eyes of a blind and most likely deaf deer, but when I stood only just a couple of feet away, I could see its brown eyes in the reflection of the campfire, looking right past me, still focused on an unknown goal, using its old, shaky legs to get there. When it got up, it went right around me like a river passing around a stone, uncaring and undeterred. I waited there for a while longer, watching it silently as it walked from the light of the warm camp and back into the cold night.

I woke up pretty late in the day, the sun almost at its highest point, so we had a late breakfast/early lunch while dad was asking what I was doing up so late, so I explained the strange encounter I had with our late-night visitor. That's when he perked up at the sound of this: “Did you see which way it went?” I explained how it just seemed to be moving slowly further up the mountain, but we can probably still see its tracks if we look hard enough. Packing up quickly, we set off in search of our woodland guide.

While marching, the quiet woods were beginning to weigh on me, so I broke the silence by asking a few questions about what he heard from those people he was talking about yesterday. According to the older people in town that been in this nestled valley for most of their lives they all had a few stories to tell about weird things that would take place in the woods that surrounded them, but most of the time they could be chalked up to animals, people with no place to go living out there or local pranksters from the high school but every once in a while you get an account from a forest ranger, talking about sections of the woods being closed off to the public with no explanation or a strange thumping some of the older hikers report hearing off the trail, and some of them, well they don’t come home. After people search the woods for days and weeks with no sign of their missing family member, the case is shut, and those trails are closed off. Since then years have passed, real stories and myths have been shuffled like a deck of cards, and soon it all becomes a ghost story to tell your friends, then nobody cares about the old trails being found anymore.  

One story he found interesting was from a local ranger who was a friend of the family who got coffee at the diner my mom works at. He had been talking offhandedly about some of the local wildlife that had been acting strange again. Knowing that it was right up his alley, Mom immediately sent the ranger on over to their house and said he’ll get free lunch for the week if he gives her husband something to go on, out in the woods. So naturally, he went straight over to him and told him about the weird behaviour that had been happening on and off with the deer. “They just keep moving forward, doesn't matter if you get in their way or not, it's like they don’t even know you’re there. They just keep on keeping on. It's weird, sure, but sometimes when I’m out there, I feel it too, that pull that seems to have these old deer in a trance, but that's a mystery, for a young man, I’m retiring soon, so I don’t think I’ll be around to solve it”. After he left, my dad couldn’t wait to get out there and bring a one of a kind photo and a story home. He planned to question that ranger more before we set out, but he found out a few days before we left that no one had seen him come home after his shift one night.

There's most likely search parties out here now for him, and I’ve been keeping an eye out to no avail. I would like to think that dads got him on his mind as well, but that obsession I can see in his face when he talks about the tales people told him is slowly starting to take more of a toll on his empathy for the people that actually got lost out here. We stop every so often to take breaks which is when I start to worry about him, now that I know what he's been dealing with on his own, the sad part is now I can see it so much clearer in the way he drifts off in his own world when we’re walking then asks if I can hear something when there's nothing to be heard or when he accidentally repeats himself on a story he told me not five minuets earlier. I think being out here is making him worse. I decided I was going to break the news to him tonight. We need to go home.

We had been walking for hours and collapsed once we set up camp. My legs were aching. I could only imagine what he felt like after all of that walking, but that smile of his persisted, which was going to make this next part all the more painful. “We need to talk”, He played coy when I said that, probably thinking he could stall me until he thought of the perfect thing to say. He had been pretty quiet while helping to set up camp, like a kid who was trying to stay up by being quiet in front of the TV. He knew what I was going to say. “We need to go back dad” It stung the way he looked at me, not disappointed or angry, just sad, but he defended himself anyway. “You can go back if you want son, the trails marked, all you gotta do is follow the marked trees home” I recoiled a bit at that “I’m not going to leave you out here so you can wander off and get yourself lost and killed” Now he was changing his tune, with a slight piece of frustration in his voice talking about how this is it and there would be no more outings after this and basically rehashing what he said last night, before stopping abruptly and standing straight up “There it is again, can you hear it? The beating”.

Now he was scaring me, I had never seen someone's eyes that wide, like a rabbit that had just spotted a fox. Calmly, I walked up to him and grabbed his shoulders gently “I don’t hear anything dad its just the wind” A lie, but better than the alternative. He calmed down, sitting slowly “You’re right, we need to leave. I think I’ve made a mistake by bringing you out here. This isn’t for you” I didn’t know what he was talking about, but as long as he agreed to come back with me, I didn’t care. “Let's just get some sleep, and we’ll head out in the morning, okay?” With a sad smile, he said goodnight before heading off into his tent, and I did the same. In the morning, I got out of my tent and started to set up breakfast before feeling that horrible sense of dread again, now that the sleepiness was wearing off, that feeling told me, “When have you ever been up before your parents?” I practically ripped open his tent, but he was gone.

I had no idea what time he had left during the night, but by looking at what he left behind, I could tell all he had was the clothes on his back. I was losing daylight, I only took the essentials, a sleeping bag and dashed off after him. As my mad sprint continued, other woodland creatures appeared, some even that would have relished in tearing this herd apart, carnivorous and herbivorous alike moved together from all directions, all with the same motivation. Forwards. I couldn’t help but think of my dad when I looked at them. Did he even realise he had wandered off? I had no idea how bad he was since he got his diagnosis, questions flying through my panic-stricken brain, when did he leave, why didn’t he even leave a note, is he even alive?

I jogged as long as I could before needing to take a break against a tree, coughing hard with sweat dripping from my forehead. I took breaks a few and far between. While running, the forest seemed to turn from old dying trees and dead flowers into something beautiful. Nature clung to this dying place and refused to let itself go. Flowers hung from trees from the bottom of the trunks to the highest branches, all in one direction. The walk these peaceful creatures were on felt like a ceremony. I could see the sun was setting, making the forest a beautiful, picturesque landscape that he would have loved. It was going to be night soon, I had to keep going, I grabbed my flashlight from my bag and continued as the wildlife seemed to surround me, making me one with their herd, “Forwards” I kept muttering my mantra “Forwards”. 

As the dark crept in and my legs threatened to give out from under me, I felt it. The texture of the forest floor was softer than before, like walking through a marsh it became harder to lift my feet up from the molasses floor. I saw in front of my eyes flowers grow from just a sprout to a full bloom in a matter of seconds, life exhaled its lungs here to accelerate growth and birth of nature, faster than anything that should be possible. I could feel something else every few seconds, a steady *Thump* then again *Thump*, a heartbeat. I didn’t know what would happen if I let myself get swallowed up into the ground. Would I just suffocate, or would there be something down there waiting patiently? 

There was bile rising in my stomach, and my body was on its last legs. I had been pushing myself more than I had ever done before in my life, the adrenaline I felt from first running off after him had worn off shortly, making the rest of my journey that much harder. Along with this, I wasn’t having the same pull as the deer beside me, it felt like I was dragging an anchor, which made each step a conscious choice, because if I didn’t push now,  I knew I would give in and walk back the other way. Then came the soft glow beneath the soil, with each beat of the forest floor, a soft luminescence followed and intensified, I was close. There was a thick wall of trees ahead of me, almost acting like bodyguards against this secret of nature, animals pushed themselves through the tight gaps, and I followed, scraping my front and back against the trunks, scratching both sides of myself. I fell through the other side as if being birthed out of the treeline. I pulled my arms and hands out of the warm soup like ground as it desperately pulled onto me, regaining my balance, I stood tall to look forward and see the heart of the forest.

The old deer seemed to form a queue out from the treeline. They started from where I entered and waited patiently to move forward, their long journey now at an end. I followed with my eyes along where the dull-eyed creatures stood to see that they surrounded this hill in a spiral all the way up to the peak where a tall ancient tree stood. Its branches are as old as the rest of it, stretching towards the sky, flowing with the breeze, making them seem like a welcoming invitation to all who see. The glow came from the centre of the grey dying centre of the trunk. With each pulse, the glow fled from the source and raced along the path and back through the forest, leaving the centre of the tree just dim enough to see there was a hole waiting for others to walk in, and I saw for a split second before the radiance came back in force, there was a humanoid shadow walking across the threshold into the mouth of the tree.

With the last of my strength, I shove past the docile creatures in my way, even the birds that stood at attention on the backs of wolves didn’t budge as I clambered past them. Soon enough, I stood at the edge of this open maw. I stepped inside.

The pulse was starting to get faster, lighting up the inside of this stomach as I descended, getting covered in sap as I walked further down into the depths of this hungry beast, following its veins that masqueraded as roots. Each thump from below sent a warning to my brain, as if whatever was down here knew what I wanted from it. I reached the bottom, seeing a chamber ahead of me. Inside, I saw him taking steps forward into the pulsing mass of flesh containing all manner of poor creatures. My stomach dropped, and my mind screamed in horror at the sight of this hideous false god of nature that controlled its victim’s final days. I clawed and pulled through the chamber to get to him, with every movement of my legs sending pain shooting up through my entire body. I grabbed him by the arm, and he turned to face me, his left arm already halfway up to his elbow, inside the beating heart made of the dead. 

I screamed at him to pull his hand out, to just snap out of it, but I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t like the animals outside. He still had some willpower, and he was choosing to use it on walking into his death. It was like he was being enveloped by a snake, the hole was getting wider to accommodate his body to get my dad ready for digestion inside this bubbling, gurgling mass. I was so scared, I had no idea what he was thinking, but what was getting to me the most was that he still looked at me with those sad eyes, the same ones he used when I said we needed to go home. “Danny” was all he said. I ignored him and continued to pull in vain. “Its okay” tears falling from my eyes I still ignored him even with shoulder now consumed “Take my camera, do that for me, I know what's going to happen, I’ve seen the cycle” I told myself he was just confused that he didn’t know what he was doing, but he wasn’t, there was no look of confusion on his face, this was the look of someone who knows what kind of decision they just made. I slowly released my hand from his arm, took the camera from around his neck and hung it on my own. Even at my dad's death, he still gave me that smile, saying, “Go outside and get that once in a lifetime shot” I nodded, watching him enter the forest for the last time.

My mind now silent from the shock setting in, I did what he asked, I walked with ease through the tunnel, knowing the ancient tree was letting me go. I stroked the backs of deer and bears as I went, giving them a form of goodbye as they were pulled along up the hill. I reached where I had entered from and sat there while all the seniors of the woods migrated into their final resting place. 

It was in the early hours of the morning that I saw the change in the tree. Its branches are no longer brittle but healthy and strong, the bark going from an old grey to a shade of brown, looking more healthy and so mighty that no one could hope to chop it down. The pulses and thumps began to slow, so I got my camera ready for its last trick. The leaves sprouted as the morning sun rose behind the tree to greet it, giving it a wonderful shine along with a last pump of the heart. It shone brightly, the entire tree glistened brilliantly as I pressed the button, taking my dad's final perfect photo.       

I made my way back over days, fumbling around in what I thought was the right direction. Days passed, and I had little food on me, but I rationed it and carried on walking. I was found by rangers at some point in my delirium, rambling on about carnivorous trees. They brought me back to safety slowly and gently. I looked around to see that the trees and plant life around me were flourishing, while I crumbled in a heap. I couldn’t feel anything but hatred towards them, it was stupid, I know, hating a flower, but what else could I do?

I couldn’t explain what had happened when I got back. I tried explaining to anyone I could. I think even my own mother doubted me. I showed the photo to every doubting person in town, but all they saw was a tree. I don’t blame them, though it's more reasonable we got lost for days out in the woods, and my dad died of exposure, leaving me in a type of fugue state after witnessing his death. Eventually, I began to believe that, too. I struggled with that for a long time, and I decided to stay in the valley rather than go to that new job that said I could take as long as I needed. I moved on but stayed close to home. I had my whole life here, enjoying every second of it, until one night when I woke up suddenly to the sound I thought I had made up so long ago *Thump* it was faint, but I heard it.       

I think it let me go because I wasn’t ripe yet, but it's started now. I’m writing this down as a last farewell and to hopefully get people to understand why I will be joining the others in the heart of the forest. It's the cycle: you're born, you live, then you die, but sometimes you can give a part of yourself back before you do. I’m choosing to follow in my father's footsteps before the pull becomes unbearable. I’ll be one of many moving forward, but I wish to be conscious of my actions and not some dull-eyed deer being puppeted on a string. 

So I leave you with this, the story my father wanted to bring home. A legend about an old tree that calls out through the woods across the forest floor to those who are at the last of their days, so that it can begin life anew, so others may prosper in your place, and that's where I’m going.

Forwards.                     

The plan was just to have a short camping trip with my dad. I felt terrible when I told him about the job offer I got, but he couldn’t be happier, he just kept smiling and telling me how him and mom were just so proud of me, and all he asked was that i at least come out with him to the woods for one last camping trip, of course I agreed because i had no idea when I was going to have the time after I move. But we shouldn’t have gone.

We both love the woods, my dad more so because of the type of work he does. He’s a nature photographer. He started this as a hobby when he was my age, and after retiring, he was able to start putting out prints to sell online “It's the happiest I’ve seen him in years”, Mom would say. She wasn’t wrong. I went with him occasionally to keep him company, but when he got focused, it was like he turned to stone with that camera in his hands. “I’m trying to get that perfect shot, Danny, it's out there”, was what he would usually say. 

I think he got a bit bored in retirement, and now he was treating this imaginary perfect shot like some sort of white whale, to cope with the boredom. But when we stepped out of his old banged up ford ranger, he told me, told me about the rumours he heard in town about a forgotten trail in the woods up in the mountains with nature that had been undisturbed for possibly decades.

At the beginning of the trail, it was hard to get my dad to start moving, mainly because he took every opportunity he could to take photos. Something was different this time, he was more about quantity than quality, which was unlike his usual style. Brushing this off, we set forth into the wild to bring back his prize, the perfect picture.

We hiked for a few more hours, listening to the sticks crunch and break under our feet, birds tweeting and talking about what my new job would entail and when I would be coming back home for visits, before he spotted the trail. “This is it!” he said excitedly at what looked to be no more than a broken off post like some sort of sad landmark. I was going to ask if he actually knew where we were going, but he was already pushing through the bushes behind the post. I followed him through pushing against the branches while calling out to him to wait up, otherwise we’ll get separated. I was just about to yell for him again when I burst out of the bushes and walked straight into the back of him, almost knocking myself over.

It felt like walking into a tree from the way his feet were rooted to the spot. He just stood there looking out at the forest ahead, only for a few seconds, but time seemed to stretch, making me feel uneasy. I tapped him on the shoulder, to which he reacted as if a bolt of lightning went through him as he jumped and spun around, scaring me at the same time. “Jesus! Sorry Danny I was in my own world there for a second” My heart was still recovering from the jump he gave me “Yeah from now on give me some time to catch up, before you sprint off” He apologised for wandering off while explaining the rumours he had heard on the internet and in town, about how he just had to be out here as soon as possible, that's when I stopped him.

While he was talking about Bigfoots and Mothmen, I noticed just how quiet it was “Hang on, just listen for a second” We stopped dead and listened. No birds, not a tweet, heck, not even any crickets. That’s when the feeling sets in, the one that's hard to explain when you’re in the moment, that impending sense of dread just creeping its head around the corner, like something knows it's got you, it's just a matter of time before you realise it too. It also had the same kind of feeling you get in church, that you’re supposed to keep your voice down, so we did, as if we couldn’t help it. Quietly, we made our way forward deeper into the woods, marking trees with paint along the way, making our own trail to find our way home.

We went on like this until the sun started to set. I had so many questions about what exactly my dad had heard from the town below the mountain, but I wanted to wait until we set up camp for the night. After setting up our tents, gathering wood for the fire, we sat down, a bit more at ease now listening to the crackle and pop of the wood as it burns. Thinking this was a good time for questions, I proceeded to hit him with the ones that had been bothering me more than most. “So why are we in such a rush to get out here, and whys this old trail so special anyway?” Grinning at this, I could tell he was barely containing his own excitement, so he told me.

“Once I got past the initial hoax sightings from people who were all too happy to spill the details on a shadow of a branch on their tent in the night, claiming it to be the goatman himself. I found the real ones, the people who were content to keep their mouths shut on what they had seen for the rest of their lives, that's when you know you’ve got something tangible when their tales start to sound the same. All these people who hadn’t met before, even decades apart between them, all had similar stories about this part of the woods, something not known by man, something that is deep in the heart of this forest that calls out to be discovered, its calling to me and I’m going to photograph it for my last trip out here”.

I perk my ears up at that “Last trip, what do you mean? I’m coming back later in the year so we can do this again” The look on his face said more than he was letting on, he smiled but the sadness in his eyes gave him away “What’s wrong?” My dad had something he wasn’t telling me, and I could see even now that he was going to try to hide it from me. He tried flipping the conversation to anything else, but I held my ground until he relented, letting out the air in his lungs and began to tell me about his diagnosis.

“I didn’t want to tell you until after, I mean, not even your mother knows, but she knows something's wrong. It started slowly this type of stuff always does, a slight case of memory fog is what I thought it was but when I found myself about a twenty minute walk away from home with no idea how I got there, I called the doctor for an appointment” I knew what he was talking about but he kept dodging the words because he knew as well as I did that saying it will make it more real but after a stinging few seconds of silence he said it anyway “ I have early onset dementia son” There it was, the pain in my chest manifested. For the first time in my whole life, I saw my father through and through “This is it, my last time out here, because I don’t want your mother to worry. Because honestly, I shouldn’t be out here now, but I would understand why you would want to go back now, knowing this” He looked up from the floor, looking for some sort of answer across the campfire, the smoke stinging my weeping eyes “Well, do you want to go back now?” His old eyes told me what I already knew “Okay then, but your telling mom when we get back she's owed that at least” Nodding slowly he got up, walked over and hugged me, before we both said goodnight and he turned in, while I stayed up for a while longer to think on what the next few months were going to be like, before hearing a snap of a branch somewhere in the dark in front of me.

The sorrow I felt earlier fled from my body, replaced by fear, while the rational part of my brain sprang to life, already firing on all cylinders. If we had been listening to the sounds of nature on the way up here, I wouldn't have thought too hard about this. But even now, the only sounds of the woods besides the breeze were just us and the crackling firepit we made, so what the hell was out there in the dark? My heart settled once I saw that it was possibly the only animal we had come across so far, it was a deer. I grabbed the old instant Polaroid camera I was given as a Kid from my bag to see if I could quickly snap a picture before it fled. 

I looked into the camera to see that this deer was moving further up the mountain at a snail's pace. From its white fur belly sagging beneath it, I thought it must be getting old. So since it was moving so slowly, I thought I could get a bit closer without startling it to get a better picture. I moved like a bull in a china shop, each step snapping every branch I could find, still the deer moved slowly forward up the mountain as if being pulled on an invisible leash. I decided to stop just ten feet away from it and took the picture, the flash going off was the equivalent of a flashback, lighting up the dark forest for a second before being consumed by the blackness again, and still that deer kept its slow speed steady.

Now I was a little uneasy, my dad would be in hysterics if he saw what I just did to get a picture, because if it were any normal deer, it would have fled the moment I sat up off the floor. So I decided to press my luck, and I stepped in front of it. 

I was expecting to see the white milky eyes of a blind and most likely deaf deer, but when I stood only just a couple of feet away, I could see its brown eyes in the reflection of the campfire, looking right past me, still focused on an unknown goal, using its old, shaky legs to get there. When it got up, it went right around me like a river passing around a stone, uncaring and undeterred. I waited there for a while longer, watching it silently as it walked from the light of the warm camp and back into the cold night.

I woke up pretty late in the day, the sun almost at its highest point, so we had a late breakfast/early lunch while dad was asking what I was doing up so late, so I explained the strange encounter I had with our late-night visitor. That's when he perked up at the sound of this: “Did you see which way it went?” I explained how it just seemed to be moving slowly further up the mountain, but we can probably still see its tracks if we look hard enough. Packing up quickly, we set off in search of our woodland guide.

While marching, the quiet woods were beginning to weigh on me, so I broke the silence by asking a few questions about what he heard from those people he was talking about yesterday. According to the older people in town that been in this nestled valley for most of their lives they all had a few stories to tell about weird things that would take place in the woods that surrounded them, but most of the time they could be chalked up to animals, people with no place to go living out there or local pranksters from the high school but every once in a while you get an account from a forest ranger, talking about sections of the woods being closed off to the public with no explanation or a strange thumping some of the older hikers report hearing off the trail, and some of them, well they don’t come home. After people search the woods for days and weeks with no sign of their missing family member, the case is shut, and those trails are closed off. Since then years have passed, real stories and myths have been shuffled like a deck of cards, and soon it all becomes a ghost story to tell your friends, then nobody cares about the old trails being found anymore.  

One story he found interesting was from a local ranger who was a friend of the family who got coffee at the diner my mom works at. He had been talking offhandedly about some of the local wildlife that had been acting strange again. Knowing that it was right up his alley, Mom immediately sent the ranger on over to their house and said he’ll get free lunch for the week if he gives her husband something to go on, out in the woods. So naturally, he went straight over to him and told him about the weird behaviour that had been happening on and off with the deer. “They just keep moving forward, doesn't matter if you get in their way or not, it's like they don’t even know you’re there. They just keep on keeping on. It's weird, sure, but sometimes when I’m out there, I feel it too, that pull that seems to have these old deer in a trance, but that's a mystery, for a young man, I’m retiring soon, so I don’t think I’ll be around to solve it”. After he left, my dad couldn’t wait to get out there and bring a one of a kind photo and a story home. He planned to question that ranger more before we set out, but he found out a few days before we left that no one had seen him come home after his shift one night.

There's most likely search parties out here now for him, and I’ve been keeping an eye out to no avail. I would like to think that dads got him on his mind as well, but that obsession I can see in his face when he talks about the tales people told him is slowly starting to take more of a toll on his empathy for the people that actually got lost out here. We stop every so often to take breaks which is when I start to worry about him, now that I know what he's been dealing with on his own, the sad part is now I can see it so much clearer in the way he drifts off in his own world when we’re walking then asks if I can hear something when there's nothing to be heard or when he accidentally repeats himself on a story he told me not five minuets earlier. I think being out here is making him worse. I decided I was going to break the news to him tonight. We need to go home.

We had been walking for hours and collapsed once we set up camp. My legs were aching. I could only imagine what he felt like after all of that walking, but that smile of his persisted, which was going to make this next part all the more painful. “We need to talk”, He played coy when I said that, probably thinking he could stall me until he thought of the perfect thing to say. He had been pretty quiet while helping to set up camp, like a kid who was trying to stay up by being quiet in front of the TV. He knew what I was going to say. “We need to go back dad” It stung the way he looked at me, not disappointed or angry, just sad, but he defended himself anyway. “You can go back if you want son, the trails marked, all you gotta do is follow the marked trees home” I recoiled a bit at that “I’m not going to leave you out here so you can wander off and get yourself lost and killed” Now he was changing his tune, with a slight piece of frustration in his voice talking about how this is it and there would be no more outings after this and basically rehashing what he said last night, before stopping abruptly and standing straight up “There it is again, can you hear it? The beating”.

Now he was scaring me, I had never seen someone's eyes that wide, like a rabbit that had just spotted a fox. Calmly, I walked up to him and grabbed his shoulders gently “I don’t hear anything dad its just the wind” A lie, but better than the alternative. He calmed down, sitting slowly “You’re right, we need to leave. I think I’ve made a mistake by bringing you out here. This isn’t for you” I didn’t know what he was talking about, but as long as he agreed to come back with me, I didn’t care. “Let's just get some sleep, and we’ll head out in the morning, okay?” With a sad smile, he said goodnight before heading off into his tent, and I did the same. In the morning, I got out of my tent and started to set up breakfast before feeling that horrible sense of dread again, now that the sleepiness was wearing off, that feeling told me, “When have you ever been up before your parents?” I practically ripped open his tent, but he was gone.

I had no idea what time he had left during the night, but by looking at what he left behind, I could tell all he had was the clothes on his back. I was losing daylight, I only took the essentials, a sleeping bag and dashed off after him. As my mad sprint continued, other woodland creatures appeared, some even that would have relished in tearing this herd apart, carnivorous and herbivorous alike moved together from all directions, all with the same motivation. Forwards. I couldn’t help but think of my dad when I looked at them. Did he even realise he had wandered off? I had no idea how bad he was since he got his diagnosis, questions flying through my panic-stricken brain, when did he leave, why didn’t he even leave a note, is he even alive?

I jogged as long as I could before needing to take a break against a tree, coughing hard with sweat dripping from my forehead. I took breaks a few and far between. While running, the forest seemed to turn from old dying trees and dead flowers into something beautiful. Nature clung to this dying place and refused to let itself go. Flowers hung from trees from the bottom of the trunks to the highest branches, all in one direction. The walk these peaceful creatures were on felt like a ceremony. I could see the sun was setting, making the forest a beautiful, picturesque landscape that he would have loved. It was going to be night soon, I had to keep going, I grabbed my flashlight from my bag and continued as the wildlife seemed to surround me, making me one with their herd, “Forwards” I kept muttering my mantra “Forwards”. 

As the dark crept in and my legs threatened to give out from under me, I felt it. The texture of the forest floor was softer than before, like walking through a marsh it became harder to lift my feet up from the molasses floor. I saw in front of my eyes flowers grow from just a sprout to a full bloom in a matter of seconds, life exhaled its lungs here to accelerate growth and birth of nature, faster than anything that should be possible. I could feel something else every few seconds, a steady *Thump* then again *Thump*, a heartbeat. I didn’t know what would happen if I let myself get swallowed up into the ground. Would I just suffocate, or would there be something down there waiting patiently? 

There was bile rising in my stomach, and my body was on its last legs. I had been pushing myself more than I had ever done before in my life, the adrenaline I felt from first running off after him had worn off shortly, making the rest of my journey that much harder. Along with this, I wasn’t having the same pull as the deer beside me, it felt like I was dragging an anchor, which made each step a conscious choice, because if I didn’t push now,  I knew I would give in and walk back the other way. Then came the soft glow beneath the soil, with each beat of the forest floor, a soft luminescence followed and intensified, I was close. There was a thick wall of trees ahead of me, almost acting like bodyguards against this secret of nature, animals pushed themselves through the tight gaps, and I followed, scraping my front and back against the trunks, scratching both sides of myself. I fell through the other side as if being birthed out of the treeline. I pulled my arms and hands out of the warm soup like ground as it desperately pulled onto me, regaining my balance, I stood tall to look forward and see the heart of the forest.

The old deer seemed to form a queue out from the treeline. They started from where I entered and waited patiently to move forward, their long journey now at an end. I followed with my eyes along where the dull-eyed creatures stood to see that they surrounded this hill in a spiral all the way up to the peak where a tall ancient tree stood. Its branches are as old as the rest of it, stretching towards the sky, flowing with the breeze, making them seem like a welcoming invitation to all who see. The glow came from the centre of the grey dying centre of the trunk. With each pulse, the glow fled from the source and raced along the path and back through the forest, leaving the centre of the tree just dim enough to see there was a hole waiting for others to walk in, and I saw for a split second before the radiance came back in force, there was a humanoid shadow walking across the threshold into the mouth of the tree.

With the last of my strength, I shove past the docile creatures in my way, even the birds that stood at attention on the backs of wolves didn’t budge as I clambered past them. Soon enough, I stood at the edge of this open maw. I stepped inside.

The pulse was starting to get faster, lighting up the inside of this stomach as I descended, getting covered in sap as I walked further down into the depths of this hungry beast, following its veins that masqueraded as roots. Each thump from below sent a warning to my brain, as if whatever was down here knew what I wanted from it. I reached the bottom, seeing a chamber ahead of me. Inside, I saw him taking steps forward into the pulsing mass of flesh containing all manner of poor creatures. My stomach dropped, and my mind screamed in horror at the sight of this hideous false god of nature that controlled its victim’s final days. I clawed and pulled through the chamber to get to him, with every movement of my legs sending pain shooting up through my entire body. I grabbed him by the arm, and he turned to face me, his left arm already halfway up to his elbow, inside the beating heart made of the dead. 

I screamed at him to pull his hand out, to just snap out of it, but I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t like the animals outside. He still had some willpower, and he was choosing to use it on walking into his death. It was like he was being enveloped by a snake, the hole was getting wider to accommodate his body to get my dad ready for digestion inside this bubbling, gurgling mass. I was so scared, I had no idea what he was thinking, but what was getting to me the most was that he still looked at me with those sad eyes, the same ones he used when I said we needed to go home. “Danny” was all he said. I ignored him and continued to pull in vain. “Its okay” tears falling from my eyes I still ignored him even with shoulder now consumed “Take my camera, do that for me, I know what's going to happen, I’ve seen the cycle” I told myself he was just confused that he didn’t know what he was doing, but he wasn’t, there was no look of confusion on his face, this was the look of someone who knows what kind of decision they just made. I slowly released my hand from his arm, took the camera from around his neck and hung it on my own. Even at my dad's death, he still gave me that smile, saying, “Go outside and get that once in a lifetime shot” I nodded, watching him enter the forest for the last time.

My mind now silent from the shock setting in, I did what he asked, I walked with ease through the tunnel, knowing the ancient tree was letting me go. I stroked the backs of deer and bears as I went, giving them a form of goodbye as they were pulled along up the hill. I reached where I had entered from and sat there while all the seniors of the woods migrated into their final resting place. 

It was in the early hours of the morning that I saw the change in the tree. Its branches are no longer brittle but healthy and strong, the bark going from an old grey to a shade of brown, looking more healthy and so mighty that no one could hope to chop it down. The pulses and thumps began to slow, so I got my camera ready for its last trick. The leaves sprouted as the morning sun rose behind the tree to greet it, giving it a wonderful shine along with a last pump of the heart. It shone brightly, the entire tree glistened brilliantly as I pressed the button, taking my dad's final perfect photo.       

I made my way back over days, fumbling around in what I thought was the right direction. Days passed, and I had little food on me, but I rationed it and carried on walking. I was found by rangers at some point in my delirium, rambling on about carnivorous trees. They brought me back to safety slowly and gently. I looked around to see that the trees and plant life around me were flourishing, while I crumbled in a heap. I couldn’t feel anything but hatred towards them, it was stupid, I know, hating a flower, but what else could I do?

I couldn’t explain what had happened when I got back. I tried explaining to anyone I could. I think even my own mother doubted me. I showed the photo to every doubting person in town, but all they saw was a tree. I don’t blame them, though it's more reasonable we got lost for days out in the woods, and my dad died of exposure, leaving me in a type of fugue state after witnessing his death. Eventually, I began to believe that, too. I struggled with that for a long time, and I decided to stay in the valley rather than go to that new job that said I could take as long as I needed. I moved on but stayed close to home. I had my whole life here, enjoying every second of it, until one night when I woke up suddenly to the sound I thought I had made up so long ago *Thump* it was faint, but I heard it.       

I think it let me go because I wasn’t ripe yet, but it's started now. I’m writing this down as a last farewell and to hopefully get people to understand why I will be joining the others in the heart of the forest. It's the cycle: you're born, you live, then you die, but sometimes you can give a part of yourself back before you do. I’m choosing to follow in my father's footsteps before the pull becomes unbearable. I’ll be one of many moving forward, but I wish to be conscious of my actions and not some dull-eyed deer being puppeted on a string. 

So I leave you with this, the story my father wanted to bring home. A legend about an old tree that calls out through the woods across the forest floor to those who are at the last of their days, so that it can begin life anew, so others may prosper in your place, and that's where I’m going.

Forwards.                     

The plan was just to have a short camping trip with my dad. I felt terrible when I told him about the job offer I got, but he couldn’t be happier, he just kept smiling and telling me how him and mom were just so proud of me, and all he asked was that i at least come out with him to the woods for one last camping trip, of course I agreed because i had no idea when I was going to have the time after I move. But we shouldn’t have gone.

We both love the woods, my dad more so because of the type of work he does. He’s a nature photographer. He started this as a hobby when he was my age, and after retiring, he was able to start putting out prints to sell online “It's the happiest I’ve seen him in years”, Mom would say. She wasn’t wrong. I went with him occasionally to keep him company, but when he got focused, it was like he turned to stone with that camera in his hands. “I’m trying to get that perfect shot, Danny, it's out there”, was what he would usually say. 

I think he got a bit bored in retirement, and now he was treating this imaginary perfect shot like some sort of white whale, to cope with the boredom. But when we stepped out of his old banged up ford ranger, he told me, told me about the rumours he heard in town about a forgotten trail in the woods up in the mountains with nature that had been undisturbed for possibly decades.

At the beginning of the trail, it was hard to get my dad to start moving, mainly because he took every opportunity he could to take photos. Something was different this time, he was more about quantity than quality, which was unlike his usual style. Brushing this off, we set forth into the wild to bring back his prize, the perfect picture.

We hiked for a few more hours, listening to the sticks crunch and break under our feet, birds tweeting and talking about what my new job would entail and when I would be coming back home for visits, before he spotted the trail. “This is it!” he said excitedly at what looked to be no more than a broken off post like some sort of sad landmark. I was going to ask if he actually knew where we were going, but he was already pushing through the bushes behind the post. I followed him through pushing against the branches while calling out to him to wait up, otherwise we’ll get separated. I was just about to yell for him again when I burst out of the bushes and walked straight into the back of him, almost knocking myself over.

It felt like walking into a tree from the way his feet were rooted to the spot. He just stood there looking out at the forest ahead, only for a few seconds, but time seemed to stretch, making me feel uneasy. I tapped him on the shoulder, to which he reacted as if a bolt of lightning went through him as he jumped and spun around, scaring me at the same time. “Jesus! Sorry Danny I was in my own world there for a second” My heart was still recovering from the jump he gave me “Yeah from now on give me some time to catch up, before you sprint off” He apologised for wandering off while explaining the rumours he had heard on the internet and in town, about how he just had to be out here as soon as possible, that's when I stopped him.

While he was talking about Bigfoots and Mothmen, I noticed just how quiet it was “Hang on, just listen for a second” We stopped dead and listened. No birds, not a tweet, heck, not even any crickets. That’s when the feeling sets in, the one that's hard to explain when you’re in the moment, that impending sense of dread just creeping its head around the corner, like something knows it's got you, it's just a matter of time before you realise it too. It also had the same kind of feeling you get in church, that you’re supposed to keep your voice down, so we did, as if we couldn’t help it. Quietly, we made our way forward deeper into the woods, marking trees with paint along the way, making our own trail to find our way home.

We went on like this until the sun started to set. I had so many questions about what exactly my dad had heard from the town below the mountain, but I wanted to wait until we set up camp for the night. After setting up our tents, gathering wood for the fire, we sat down, a bit more at ease now listening to the crackle and pop of the wood as it burns. Thinking this was a good time for questions, I proceeded to hit him with the ones that had been bothering me more than most. “So why are we in such a rush to get out here, and whys this old trail so special anyway?” Grinning at this, I could tell he was barely containing his own excitement, so he told me.

“Once I got past the initial hoax sightings from people who were all too happy to spill the details on a shadow of a branch on their tent in the night, claiming it to be the goatman himself. I found the real ones, the people who were content to keep their mouths shut on what they had seen for the rest of their lives, that's when you know you’ve got something tangible when their tales start to sound the same. All these people who hadn’t met before, even decades apart between them, all had similar stories about this part of the woods, something not known by man, something that is deep in the heart of this forest that calls out to be discovered, its calling to me and I’m going to photograph it for my last trip out here”.

I perk my ears up at that “Last trip, what do you mean? I’m coming back later in the year so we can do this again” The look on his face said more than he was letting on, he smiled but the sadness in his eyes gave him away “What’s wrong?” My dad had something he wasn’t telling me, and I could see even now that he was going to try to hide it from me. He tried flipping the conversation to anything else, but I held my ground until he relented, letting out the air in his lungs and began to tell me about his diagnosis.

“I didn’t want to tell you until after, I mean, not even your mother knows, but she knows something's wrong. It started slowly this type of stuff always does, a slight case of memory fog is what I thought it was but when I found myself about a twenty minute walk away from home with no idea how I got there, I called the doctor for an appointment” I knew what he was talking about but he kept dodging the words because he knew as well as I did that saying it will make it more real but after a stinging few seconds of silence he said it anyway “ I have early onset dementia son” There it was, the pain in my chest manifested. For the first time in my whole life, I saw my father through and through “This is it, my last time out here, because I don’t want your mother to worry. Because honestly, I shouldn’t be out here now, but I would understand why you would want to go back now, knowing this” He looked up from the floor, looking for some sort of answer across the campfire, the smoke stinging my weeping eyes “Well, do you want to go back now?” His old eyes told me what I already knew “Okay then, but your telling mom when we get back she's owed that at least” Nodding slowly he got up, walked over and hugged me, before we both said goodnight and he turned in, while I stayed up for a while longer to think on what the next few months were going to be like, before hearing a snap of a branch somewhere in the dark in front of me.

The sorrow I felt earlier fled from my body, replaced by fear, while the rational part of my brain sprang to life, already firing on all cylinders. If we had been listening to the sounds of nature on the way up here, I wouldn't have thought too hard about this. But even now, the only sounds of the woods besides the breeze were just us and the crackling firepit we made, so what the hell was out there in the dark? My heart settled once I saw that it was possibly the only animal we had come across so far, it was a deer. I grabbed the old instant Polaroid camera I was given as a Kid from my bag to see if I could quickly snap a picture before it fled. 

I looked into the camera to see that this deer was moving further up the mountain at a snail's pace. From its white fur belly sagging beneath it, I thought it must be getting old. So since it was moving so slowly, I thought I could get a bit closer without startling it to get a better picture. I moved like a bull in a china shop, each step snapping every branch I could find, still the deer moved slowly forward up the mountain as if being pulled on an invisible leash. I decided to stop just ten feet away from it and took the picture, the flash going off was the equivalent of a flashback, lighting up the dark forest for a second before being consumed by the blackness again, and still that deer kept its slow speed steady.

Now I was a little uneasy, my dad would be in hysterics if he saw what I just did to get a picture, because if it were any normal deer, it would have fled the moment I sat up off the floor. So I decided to press my luck, and I stepped in front of it. 

I was expecting to see the white milky eyes of a blind and most likely deaf deer, but when I stood only just a couple of feet away, I could see its brown eyes in the reflection of the campfire, looking right past me, still focused on an unknown goal, using its old, shaky legs to get there. When it got up, it went right around me like a river passing around a stone, uncaring and undeterred. I waited there for a while longer, watching it silently as it walked from the light of the warm camp and back into the cold night.

I woke up pretty late in the day, the sun almost at its highest point, so we had a late breakfast/early lunch while dad was asking what I was doing up so late, so I explained the strange encounter I had with our late-night visitor. That's when he perked up at the sound of this: “Did you see which way it went?” I explained how it just seemed to be moving slowly further up the mountain, but we can probably still see its tracks if we look hard enough. Packing up quickly, we set off in search of our woodland guide.

While marching, the quiet woods were beginning to weigh on me, so I broke the silence by asking a few questions about what he heard from those people he was talking about yesterday. According to the older people in town that been in this nestled valley for most of their lives they all had a few stories to tell about weird things that would take place in the woods that surrounded them, but most of the time they could be chalked up to animals, people with no place to go living out there or local pranksters from the high school but every once in a while you get an account from a forest ranger, talking about sections of the woods being closed off to the public with no explanation or a strange thumping some of the older hikers report hearing off the trail, and some of them, well they don’t come home. After people search the woods for days and weeks with no sign of their missing family member, the case is shut, and those trails are closed off. Since then years have passed, real stories and myths have been shuffled like a deck of cards, and soon it all becomes a ghost story to tell your friends, then nobody cares about the old trails being found anymore.  

One story he found interesting was from a local ranger who was a friend of the family who got coffee at the diner my mom works at. He had been talking offhandedly about some of the local wildlife that had been acting strange again. Knowing that it was right up his alley, Mom immediately sent the ranger on over to their house and said he’ll get free lunch for the week if he gives her husband something to go on, out in the woods. So naturally, he went straight over to him and told him about the weird behaviour that had been happening on and off with the deer. “They just keep moving forward, doesn't matter if you get in their way or not, it's like they don’t even know you’re there. They just keep on keeping on. It's weird, sure, but sometimes when I’m out there, I feel it too, that pull that seems to have these old deer in a trance, but that's a mystery, for a young man, I’m retiring soon, so I don’t think I’ll be around to solve it”. After he left, my dad couldn’t wait to get out there and bring a one of a kind photo and a story home. He planned to question that ranger more before we set out, but he found out a few days before we left that no one had seen him come home after his shift one night.

There's most likely search parties out here now for him, and I’ve been keeping an eye out to no avail. I would like to think that dads got him on his mind as well, but that obsession I can see in his face when he talks about the tales people told him is slowly starting to take more of a toll on his empathy for the people that actually got lost out here. We stop every so often to take breaks which is when I start to worry about him, now that I know what he's been dealing with on his own, the sad part is now I can see it so much clearer in the way he drifts off in his own world when we’re walking then asks if I can hear something when there's nothing to be heard or when he accidentally repeats himself on a story he told me not five minuets earlier. I think being out here is making him worse. I decided I was going to break the news to him tonight. We need to go home.

We had been walking for hours and collapsed once we set up camp. My legs were aching. I could only imagine what he felt like after all of that walking, but that smile of his persisted, which was going to make this next part all the more painful. “We need to talk”, He played coy when I said that, probably thinking he could stall me until he thought of the perfect thing to say. He had been pretty quiet while helping to set up camp, like a kid who was trying to stay up by being quiet in front of the TV. He knew what I was going to say. “We need to go back dad” It stung the way he looked at me, not disappointed or angry, just sad, but he defended himself anyway. “You can go back if you want son, the trails marked, all you gotta do is follow the marked trees home” I recoiled a bit at that “I’m not going to leave you out here so you can wander off and get yourself lost and killed” Now he was changing his tune, with a slight piece of frustration in his voice talking about how this is it and there would be no more outings after this and basically rehashing what he said last night, before stopping abruptly and standing straight up “There it is again, can you hear it? The beating”.

Now he was scaring me, I had never seen someone's eyes that wide, like a rabbit that had just spotted a fox. Calmly, I walked up to him and grabbed his shoulders gently “I don’t hear anything dad its just the wind” A lie, but better than the alternative. He calmed down, sitting slowly “You’re right, we need to leave. I think I’ve made a mistake by bringing you out here. This isn’t for you” I didn’t know what he was talking about, but as long as he agreed to come back with me, I didn’t care. “Let's just get some sleep, and we’ll head out in the morning, okay?” With a sad smile, he said goodnight before heading off into his tent, and I did the same. In the morning, I got out of my tent and started to set up breakfast before feeling that horrible sense of dread again, now that the sleepiness was wearing off, that feeling told me, “When have you ever been up before your parents?” I practically ripped open his tent, but he was gone.

I had no idea what time he had left during the night, but by looking at what he left behind, I could tell all he had was the clothes on his back. I was losing daylight, I only took the essentials, a sleeping bag and dashed off after him. As my mad sprint continued, other woodland creatures appeared, some even that would have relished in tearing this herd apart, carnivorous and herbivorous alike moved together from all directions, all with the same motivation. Forwards. I couldn’t help but think of my dad when I looked at them. Did he even realise he had wandered off? I had no idea how bad he was since he got his diagnosis, questions flying through my panic-stricken brain, when did he leave, why didn’t he even leave a note, is he even alive?

I jogged as long as I could before needing to take a break against a tree, coughing hard with sweat dripping from my forehead. I took breaks a few and far between. While running, the forest seemed to turn from old dying trees and dead flowers into something beautiful. Nature clung to this dying place and refused to let itself go. Flowers hung from trees from the bottom of the trunks to the highest branches, all in one direction. The walk these peaceful creatures were on felt like a ceremony. I could see the sun was setting, making the forest a beautiful, picturesque landscape that he would have loved. It was going to be night soon, I had to keep going, I grabbed my flashlight from my bag and continued as the wildlife seemed to surround me, making me one with their herd, “Forwards” I kept muttering my mantra “Forwards”. 

As the dark crept in and my legs threatened to give out from under me, I felt it. The texture of the forest floor was softer than before, like walking through a marsh it became harder to lift my feet up from the molasses floor. I saw in front of my eyes flowers grow from just a sprout to a full bloom in a matter of seconds, life exhaled its lungs here to accelerate growth and birth of nature, faster than anything that should be possible. I could feel something else every few seconds, a steady *Thump* then again *Thump*, a heartbeat. I didn’t know what would happen if I let myself get swallowed up into the ground. Would I just suffocate, or would there be something down there waiting patiently? 

There was bile rising in my stomach, and my body was on its last legs. I had been pushing myself more than I had ever done before in my life, the adrenaline I felt from first running off after him had worn off shortly, making the rest of my journey that much harder. Along with this, I wasn’t having the same pull as the deer beside me, it felt like I was dragging an anchor, which made each step a conscious choice, because if I didn’t push now,  I knew I would give in and walk back the other way. Then came the soft glow beneath the soil, with each beat of the forest floor, a soft luminescence followed and intensified, I was close. There was a thick wall of trees ahead of me, almost acting like bodyguards against this secret of nature, animals pushed themselves through the tight gaps, and I followed, scraping my front and back against the trunks, scratching both sides of myself. I fell through the other side as if being birthed out of the treeline. I pulled my arms and hands out of the warm soup like ground as it desperately pulled onto me, regaining my balance, I stood tall to look forward and see the heart of the forest.

The old deer seemed to form a queue out from the treeline. They started from where I entered and waited patiently to move forward, their long journey now at an end. I followed with my eyes along where the dull-eyed creatures stood to see that they surrounded this hill in a spiral all the way up to the peak where a tall ancient tree stood. Its branches are as old as the rest of it, stretching towards the sky, flowing with the breeze, making them seem like a welcoming invitation to all who see. The glow came from the centre of the grey dying centre of the trunk. With each pulse, the glow fled from the source and raced along the path and back through the forest, leaving the centre of the tree just dim enough to see there was a hole waiting for others to walk in, and I saw for a split second before the radiance came back in force, there was a humanoid shadow walking across the threshold into the mouth of the tree.

With the last of my strength, I shove past the docile creatures in my way, even the birds that stood at attention on the backs of wolves didn’t budge as I clambered past them. Soon enough, I stood at the edge of this open maw. I stepped inside.

The pulse was starting to get faster, lighting up the inside of this stomach as I descended, getting covered in sap as I walked further down into the depths of this hungry beast, following its veins that masqueraded as roots. Each thump from below sent a warning to my brain, as if whatever was down here knew what I wanted from it. I reached the bottom, seeing a chamber ahead of me. Inside, I saw him taking steps forward into the pulsing mass of flesh containing all manner of poor creatures. My stomach dropped, and my mind screamed in horror at the sight of this hideous false god of nature that controlled its victim’s final days. I clawed and pulled through the chamber to get to him, with every movement of my legs sending pain shooting up through my entire body. I grabbed him by the arm, and he turned to face me, his left arm already halfway up to his elbow, inside the beating heart made of the dead. 

I screamed at him to pull his hand out, to just snap out of it, but I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t like the animals outside. He still had some willpower, and he was choosing to use it on walking into his death. It was like he was being enveloped by a snake, the hole was getting wider to accommodate his body to get my dad ready for digestion inside this bubbling, gurgling mass. I was so scared, I had no idea what he was thinking, but what was getting to me the most was that he still looked at me with those sad eyes, the same ones he used when I said we needed to go home. “Danny” was all he said. I ignored him and continued to pull in vain. “Its okay” tears falling from my eyes I still ignored him even with shoulder now consumed “Take my camera, do that for me, I know what's going to happen, I’ve seen the cycle” I told myself he was just confused that he didn’t know what he was doing, but he wasn’t, there was no look of confusion on his face, this was the look of someone who knows what kind of decision they just made. I slowly released my hand from his arm, took the camera from around his neck and hung it on my own. Even at my dad's death, he still gave me that smile, saying, “Go outside and get that once in a lifetime shot” I nodded, watching him enter the forest for the last time.

My mind now silent from the shock setting in, I did what he asked, I walked with ease through the tunnel, knowing the ancient tree was letting me go. I stroked the backs of deer and bears as I went, giving them a form of goodbye as they were pulled along up the hill. I reached where I had entered from and sat there while all the seniors of the woods migrated into their final resting place. 

It was in the early hours of the morning that I saw the change in the tree. Its branches are no longer brittle but healthy and strong, the bark going from an old grey to a shade of brown, looking more healthy and so mighty that no one could hope to chop it down. The pulses and thumps began to slow, so I got my camera ready for its last trick. The leaves sprouted as the morning sun rose behind the tree to greet it, giving it a wonderful shine along with a last pump of the heart. It shone brightly, the entire tree glistened brilliantly as I pressed the button, taking my dad's final perfect photo.       

I made my way back over days, fumbling around in what I thought was the right direction. Days passed, and I had little food on me, but I rationed it and carried on walking. I was found by rangers at some point in my delirium, rambling on about carnivorous trees. They brought me back to safety slowly and gently. I looked around to see that the trees and plant life around me were flourishing, while I crumbled in a heap. I couldn’t feel anything but hatred towards them, it was stupid, I know, hating a flower, but what else could I do?

I couldn’t explain what had happened when I got back. I tried explaining to anyone I could. I think even my own mother doubted me. I showed the photo to every doubting person in town, but all they saw was a tree. I don’t blame them, though it's more reasonable we got lost for days out in the woods, and my dad died of exposure, leaving me in a type of fugue state after witnessing his death. Eventually, I began to believe that, too. I struggled with that for a long time, and I decided to stay in the valley rather than go to that new job that said I could take as long as I needed. I moved on but stayed close to home. I had my whole life here, enjoying every second of it, until one night when I woke up suddenly to the sound I thought I had made up so long ago *Thump* it was faint, but I heard it.       

I think it let me go because I wasn’t ripe yet, but it's started now. I’m writing this down as a last farewell and to hopefully get people to understand why I will be joining the others in the heart of the forest. It's the cycle: you're born, you live, then you die, but sometimes you can give a part of yourself back before you do. I’m choosing to follow in my father's footsteps before the pull becomes unbearable. I’ll be one of many moving forward, but I wish to be conscious of my actions and not some dull-eyed deer being puppeted on a string. 

So I leave you with this, the story my father wanted to bring home. A legend about an old tree that calls out through the woods across the forest floor to those who are at the last of their days, so that it can begin life anew, so others may prosper in your place, and that's where I’m going.

Forwards.                     

The plan was just to have a short camping trip with my dad. I felt terrible when I told him about the job offer I got, but he couldn’t be happier, he just kept smiling and telling me how him and mom were just so proud of me, and all he asked was that i at least come out with him to the woods for one last camping trip, of course I agreed because i had no idea when I was going to have the time after I move. But we shouldn’t have gone.

We both love the woods, my dad more so because of the type of work he does. He’s a nature photographer. He started this as a hobby when he was my age, and after retiring, he was able to start putting out prints to sell online “It's the happiest I’ve seen him in years”, Mom would say. She wasn’t wrong. I went with him occasionally to keep him company, but when he got focused, it was like he turned to stone with that camera in his hands. “I’m trying to get that perfect shot, Danny, it's out there”, was what he would usually say. 

I think he got a bit bored in retirement, and now he was treating this imaginary perfect shot like some sort of white whale, to cope with the boredom. But when we stepped out of his old banged up ford ranger, he told me, told me about the rumours he heard in town about a forgotten trail in the woods up in the mountains with nature that had been undisturbed for possibly decades.

At the beginning of the trail, it was hard to get my dad to start moving, mainly because he took every opportunity he could to take photos. Something was different this time, he was more about quantity than quality, which was unlike his usual style. Brushing this off, we set forth into the wild to bring back his prize, the perfect picture.

We hiked for a few more hours, listening to the sticks crunch and break under our feet, birds tweeting and talking about what my new job would entail and when I would be coming back home for visits, before he spotted the trail. “This is it!” he said excitedly at what looked to be no more than a broken off post like some sort of sad landmark. I was going to ask if he actually knew where we were going, but he was already pushing through the bushes behind the post. I followed him through pushing against the branches while calling out to him to wait up, otherwise we’ll get separated. I was just about to yell for him again when I burst out of the bushes and walked straight into the back of him, almost knocking myself over.

It felt like walking into a tree from the way his feet were rooted to the spot. He just stood there looking out at the forest ahead, only for a few seconds, but time seemed to stretch, making me feel uneasy. I tapped him on the shoulder, to which he reacted as if a bolt of lightning went through him as he jumped and spun around, scaring me at the same time. “Jesus! Sorry Danny I was in my own world there for a second” My heart was still recovering from the jump he gave me “Yeah from now on give me some time to catch up, before you sprint off” He apologised for wandering off while explaining the rumours he had heard on the internet and in town, about how he just had to be out here as soon as possible, that's when I stopped him.
 
While he was talking about Bigfoots and Mothmen, I noticed just how quiet it was “Hang on, just listen for a second” We stopped dead and listened. No birds, not a tweet, heck, not even any crickets. That’s when the feeling sets in, the one that's hard to explain when you’re in the moment, that impending sense of dread just creeping its head around the corner, like something knows it's got you, it's just a matter of time before you realise it too. It also had the same kind of feeling you get in church, that you’re supposed to keep your voice down, so we did, as if we couldn’t help it. Quietly, we made our way forward deeper into the woods, marking trees with paint along the way, making our own trail to find our way home.

We went on like this until the sun started to set. I had so many questions about what exactly my dad had heard from the town below the mountain, but I wanted to wait until we set up camp for the night. After setting up our tents, gathering wood for the fire, we sat down, a bit more at ease now listening to the crackle and pop of the wood as it burns. Thinking this was a good time for questions, I proceeded to hit him with the ones that had been bothering me more than most. “So why are we in such a rush to get out here, and whys this old trail so special anyway?” Grinning at this, I could tell he was barely containing his own excitement, so he told me.

“Once I got past the initial hoax sightings from people who were all too happy to spill the details on a shadow of a branch on their tent in the night, claiming it to be the goatman himself. I found the real ones, the people who were content to keep their mouths shut on what they had seen for the rest of their lives, that's when you know you’ve got something tangible when their tales start to sound the same. All these people who hadn’t met before, even decades apart between them, all had similar stories about this part of the woods, something not known by man, something that is deep in the heart of this forest that calls out to be discovered, its calling to me and I’m going to photograph it for my last trip out here”.

I perk my ears up at that “Last trip, what do you mean? I’m coming back later in the year so we can do this again” The look on his face said more than he was letting on, he smiled but the sadness in his eyes gave him away “What’s wrong?” My dad had something he wasn’t telling me, and I could see even now that he was going to try to hide it from me. He tried flipping the conversation to anything else, but I held my ground until he relented, letting out the air in his lungs and began to tell me about his diagnosis.

“I didn’t want to tell you until after, I mean, not even your mother knows, but she knows something's wrong. It started slowly this type of stuff always does, a slight case of memory fog is what I thought it was but when I found myself about a twenty minute walk away from home with no idea how I got there, I called the doctor for an appointment” I knew what he was talking about but he kept dodging the words because he knew as well as I did that saying it will make it more real but after a stinging few seconds of silence he said it anyway “ I have early onset dementia son” There it was, the pain in my chest manifested. For the first time in my whole life, I saw my father through and through “This is it, my last time out here, because I don’t want your mother to worry. Because honestly, I shouldn’t be out here now, but I would understand why you would want to go back now, knowing this” He looked up from the floor, looking for some sort of answer across the campfire, the smoke stinging my weeping eyes “Well, do you want to go back now?” His old eyes told me what I already knew “Okay then, but your telling mom when we get back she's owed that at least” Nodding slowly he got up, walked over and hugged me, before we both said goodnight and he turned in, while I stayed up for a while longer to think on what the next few months were going to be like, before hearing a snap of a branch somewhere in the dark in front of me.

The sorrow I felt earlier fled from my body, replaced by fear, while the rational part of my brain sprang to life, already firing on all cylinders. If we had been listening to the sounds of nature on the way up here, I wouldn't have thought too hard about this. But even now, the only sounds of the woods besides the breeze were just us and the crackling firepit we made, so what the hell was out there in the dark? My heart settled once I saw that it was possibly the only animal we had come across so far, it was a deer. I grabbed the old instant Polaroid camera I was given as a Kid from my bag to see if I could quickly snap a picture before it fled. 

I looked into the camera to see that this deer was moving further up the mountain at a snail's pace. From its white fur belly sagging beneath it, I thought it must be getting old. So since it was moving so slowly, I thought I could get a bit closer without startling it to get a better picture. I moved like a bull in a china shop, each step snapping every branch I could find, still the deer moved slowly forward up the mountain as if being pulled on an invisible leash. I decided to stop just ten feet away from it and took the picture, the flash going off was the equivalent of a flashback, lighting up the dark forest for a second before being consumed by the blackness again, and still that deer kept its slow speed steady.

Now I was a little uneasy, my dad would be in hysterics if he saw what I just did to get a picture, because if it were any normal deer, it would have fled the moment I sat up off the floor. So I decided to press my luck, and I stepped in front of it. 

I was expecting to see the white milky eyes of a blind and most likely deaf deer, but when I stood only just a couple of feet away, I could see its brown eyes in the reflection of the campfire, looking right past me, still focused on an unknown goal, using its old, shaky legs to get there. When it got up, it went right around me like a river passing around a stone, uncaring and undeterred. I waited there for a while longer, watching it silently as it walked from the light of the warm camp and back into the cold night.

I woke up pretty late in the day, the sun almost at its highest point, so we had a late breakfast/early lunch while dad was asking what I was doing up so late, so I explained the strange encounter I had with our late-night visitor. That's when he perked up at the sound of this: “Did you see which way it went?” I explained how it just seemed to be moving slowly further up the mountain, but we can probably still see its tracks if we look hard enough. Packing up quickly, we set off in search of our woodland guide.

While marching, the quiet woods were beginning to weigh on me, so I broke the silence by asking a few questions about what he heard from those people he was talking about yesterday. According to the older people in town that been in this nestled valley for most of their lives they all had a few stories to tell about weird things that would take place in the woods that surrounded them, but most of the time they could be chalked up to animals, people with no place to go living out there or local pranksters from the high school but every once in a while you get an account from a forest ranger, talking about sections of the woods being closed off to the public with no explanation or a strange thumping some of the older hikers report hearing off the trail, and some of them, well they don’t come home. After people search the woods for days and weeks with no sign of their missing family member, the case is shut, and those trails are closed off. Since then years have passed, real stories and myths have been shuffled like a deck of cards, and soon it all becomes a ghost story to tell your friends, then nobody cares about the old trails being found anymore.  

One story he found interesting was from a local ranger who was a friend of the family who got coffee at the diner my mom works at. He had been talking offhandedly about some of the local wildlife that had been acting strange again. Knowing that it was right up his alley, Mom immediately sent the ranger on over to their house and said he’ll get free lunch for the week if he gives her husband something to go on, out in the woods. So naturally, he went straight over to him and told him about the weird behaviour that had been happening on and off with the deer. “They just keep moving forward, doesn't matter if you get in their way or not, it's like they don’t even know you’re there. They just keep on keeping on. It's weird, sure, but sometimes when I’m out there, I feel it too, that pull that seems to have these old deer in a trance, but that's a mystery, for a young man, I’m retiring soon, so I don’t think I’ll be around to solve it”. After he left, my dad couldn’t wait to get out there and bring a one of a kind photo and a story home. He planned to question that ranger more before we set out, but he found out a few days before we left that no one had seen him come home after his shift one night.

There's most likely search parties out here now for him, and I’ve been keeping an eye out to no avail. I would like to think that dads got him on his mind as well, but that obsession I can see in his face when he talks about the tales people told him is slowly starting to take more of a toll on his empathy for the people that actually got lost out here. We stop every so often to take breaks which is when I start to worry about him, now that I know what he's been dealing with on his own, the sad part is now I can see it so much clearer in the way he drifts off in his own world when we’re walking then asks if I can hear something when there's nothing to be heard or when he accidentally repeats himself on a story he told me not five minuets earlier. I think being out here is making him worse. I decided I was going to break the news to him tonight. We need to go home.

We had been walking for hours and collapsed once we set up camp. My legs were aching. I could only imagine what he felt like after all of that walking, but that smile of his persisted, which was going to make this next part all the more painful. “We need to talk”, He played coy when I said that, probably thinking he could stall me until he thought of the perfect thing to say. He had been pretty quiet while helping to set up camp, like a kid who was trying to stay up by being quiet in front of the TV. He knew what I was going to say. “We need to go back dad” It stung the way he looked at me, not disappointed or angry, just sad, but he defended himself anyway. “You can go back if you want son, the trails marked, all you gotta do is follow the marked trees home” I recoiled a bit at that “I’m not going to leave you out here so you can wander off and get yourself lost and killed” Now he was changing his tune, with a slight piece of frustration in his voice talking about how this is it and there would be no more outings after this and basically rehashing what he said last night, before stopping abruptly and standing straight up “There it is again, can you hear it? The beating”.

Now he was scaring me, I had never seen someone's eyes that wide, like a rabbit that had just spotted a fox. Calmly, I walked up to him and grabbed his shoulders gently “I don’t hear anything dad its just the wind” A lie, but better than the alternative. He calmed down, sitting slowly “You’re right, we need to leave. I think I’ve made a mistake by bringing you out here. This isn’t for you” I didn’t know what he was talking about, but as long as he agreed to come back with me, I didn’t care. “Let's just get some sleep, and we’ll head out in the morning, okay?” With a sad smile, he said goodnight before heading off into his tent, and I did the same. In the morning, I got out of my tent and started to set up breakfast before feeling that horrible sense of dread again, now that the sleepiness was wearing off, that feeling told me, “When have you ever been up before your parents?” I practically ripped open his tent, but he was gone.

I had no idea what time he had left during the night, but by looking at what he left behind, I could tell all he had was the clothes on his back. I was losing daylight, I only took the essentials, a sleeping bag and dashed off after him. As my mad sprint continued, other woodland creatures appeared, some even that would have relished in tearing this herd apart, carnivorous and herbivorous alike moved together from all directions, all with the same motivation. Forwards. I couldn’t help but think of my dad when I looked at them. Did he even realise he had wandered off? I had no idea how bad he was since he got his diagnosis, questions flying through my panic-stricken brain, when did he leave, why didn’t he even leave a note, is he even alive?

I jogged as long as I could before needing to take a break against a tree, coughing hard with sweat dripping from my forehead. I took breaks a few and far between. While running, the forest seemed to turn from old dying trees and dead flowers into something beautiful. Nature clung to this dying place and refused to let itself go. Flowers hung from trees from the bottom of the trunks to the highest branches, all in one direction. The walk these peaceful creatures were on felt like a ceremony. I could see the sun was setting, making the forest a beautiful, picturesque landscape that he would have loved. It was going to be night soon, I had to keep going, I grabbed my flashlight from my bag and continued as the wildlife seemed to surround me, making me one with their herd, “Forwards” I kept muttering my mantra “Forwards”. 

As the dark crept in and my legs threatened to give out from under me, I felt it. The texture of the forest floor was softer than before, like walking through a marsh it became harder to lift my feet up from the molasses floor. I saw in front of my eyes flowers grow from just a sprout to a full bloom in a matter of seconds, life exhaled its lungs here to accelerate growth and birth of nature, faster than anything that should be possible. I could feel something else every few seconds, a steady *Thump* then again *Thump*, a heartbeat. I didn’t know what would happen if I let myself get swallowed up into the ground. Would I just suffocate, or would there be something down there waiting patiently? 

There was bile rising in my stomach, and my body was on its last legs. I had been pushing myself more than I had ever done before in my life, the adrenaline I felt from first running off after him had worn off shortly, making the rest of my journey that much harder. Along with this, I wasn’t having the same pull as the deer beside me, it felt like I was dragging an anchor, which made each step a conscious choice, because if I didn’t push now,  I knew I would give in and walk back the other way. Then came the soft glow beneath the soil, with each beat of the forest floor, a soft luminescence followed and intensified, I was close. There was a thick wall of trees ahead of me, almost acting like bodyguards against this secret of nature, animals pushed themselves through the tight gaps, and I followed, scraping my front and back against the trunks, scratching both sides of myself. I fell through the other side as if being birthed out of the treeline. I pulled my arms and hands out of the warm soup like ground as it desperately pulled onto me, regaining my balance, I stood tall to look forward and see the heart of the forest.

The old deer seemed to form a queue out from the treeline. They started from where I entered and waited patiently to move forward, their long journey now at an end. I followed with my eyes along where the dull-eyed creatures stood to see that they surrounded this hill in a spiral all the way up to the peak where a tall ancient tree stood. Its branches are as old as the rest of it, stretching towards the sky, flowing with the breeze, making them seem like a welcoming invitation to all who see. The glow came from the centre of the grey dying centre of the trunk. With each pulse, the glow fled from the source and raced along the path and back through the forest, leaving the centre of the tree just dim enough to see there was a hole waiting for others to walk in, and I saw for a split second before the radiance came back in force, there was a humanoid shadow walking across the threshold into the mouth of the tree.

With the last of my strength, I shove past the docile creatures in my way, even the birds that stood at attention on the backs of wolves didn’t budge as I clambered past them. Soon enough, I stood at the edge of this open maw. I stepped inside.

The pulse was starting to get faster, lighting up the inside of this stomach as I descended, getting covered in sap as I walked further down into the depths of this hungry beast, following its veins that masqueraded as roots. Each thump from below sent a warning to my brain, as if whatever was down here knew what I wanted from it. I reached the bottom, seeing a chamber ahead of me. Inside, I saw him taking steps forward into the pulsing mass of flesh containing all manner of poor creatures. My stomach dropped, and my mind screamed in horror at the sight of this hideous false god of nature that controlled its victim’s final days. I clawed and pulled through the chamber to get to him, with every movement of my legs sending pain shooting up through my entire body. I grabbed him by the arm, and he turned to face me, his left arm already halfway up to his elbow, inside the beating heart made of the dead. 

I screamed at him to pull his hand out, to just snap out of it, but I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t like the animals outside. He still had some willpower, and he was choosing to use it on walking into his death. It was like he was being enveloped by a snake, the hole was getting wider to accommodate his body to get my dad ready for digestion inside this bubbling, gurgling mass. I was so scared, I had no idea what he was thinking, but what was getting to me the most was that he still looked at me with those sad eyes, the same ones he used when I said we needed to go home. “Danny” was all he said. I ignored him and continued to pull in vain. “Its okay” tears falling from my eyes I still ignored him even with shoulder now consumed “Take my camera, do that for me, I know what's going to happen, I’ve seen the cycle” I told myself he was just confused that he didn’t know what he was doing, but he wasn’t, there was no look of confusion on his face, this was the look of someone who knows what kind of decision they just made. I slowly released my hand from his arm, took the camera from around his neck and hung it on my own. Even at my dad's death, he still gave me that smile, saying, “Go outside and get that once in a lifetime shot” I nodded, watching him enter the forest for the last time.

My mind now silent from the shock setting in, I did what he asked, I walked with ease through the tunnel, knowing the ancient tree was letting me go. I stroked the backs of deer and bears as I went, giving them a form of goodbye as they were pulled along up the hill. I reached where I had entered from and sat there while all the seniors of the woods migrated into their final resting place. 

It was in the early hours of the morning that I saw the change in the tree. Its branches are no longer brittle but healthy and strong, the bark going from an old grey to a shade of brown, looking more healthy and so mighty that no one could hope to chop it down. The pulses and thumps began to slow, so I got my camera ready for its last trick. The leaves sprouted as the morning sun rose behind the tree to greet it, giving it a wonderful shine along with a last pump of the heart. It shone brightly, the entire tree glistened brilliantly as I pressed the button, taking my dad's final perfect photo.       

I made my way back over days, fumbling around in what I thought was the right direction. Days passed, and I had little food on me, but I rationed it and carried on walking. I was found by rangers at some point in my delirium, rambling on about carnivorous trees. They brought me back to safety slowly and gently. I looked around to see that the trees and plant life around me were flourishing, while I crumbled in a heap. I couldn’t feel anything but hatred towards them, it was stupid, I know, hating a flower, but what else could I do?
 
I couldn’t explain what had happened when I got back. I tried explaining to anyone I could. I think even my own mother doubted me. I showed the photo to every doubting person in town, but all they saw was a tree. I don’t blame them, though it's more reasonable we got lost for days out in the woods, and my dad died of exposure, leaving me in a type of fugue state after witnessing his death. Eventually, I began to believe that, too. I struggled with that for a long time, and I decided to stay in the valley rather than go to that new job that said I could take as long as I needed. I moved on but stayed close to home. I had my whole life here, enjoying every second of it, until one night when I woke up suddenly to the sound I thought I had made up so long ago *Thump* it was faint, but I heard it.       

I think it let me go because I wasn’t ripe yet, but it's started now. I’m writing this down as a last farewell and to hopefully get people to understand why I will be joining the others in the heart of the forest. It's the cycle: you're born, you live, then you die, but sometimes you can give a part of yourself back before you do. I’m choosing to follow in my father's footsteps before the pull becomes unbearable. I’ll be one of many moving forward, but I wish to be conscious of my actions and not some dull-eyed deer being puppeted on a string. 

So I leave you with this, the story my father wanted to bring home. A legend about an old tree that calls out through the woods across the forest floor to those who are at the last of their days, so that it can begin life anew, so others may prosper in your place, and that's where I’m going.

Forwards.                     

The plan was just to have a short camping trip with my dad. I felt terrible when I told him about the job offer I got, but he couldn’t be happier, he just kept smiling and telling me how him and mom were just so proud of me, and all he asked was that i at least come out with him to the woods for one last camping trip, of course I agreed because i had no idea when I was going to have the time after I move. But we shouldn’t have gone.

We both love the woods, my dad more so because of the type of work he does. He’s a nature photographer. He started this as a hobby when he was my age, and after retiring, he was able to start putting out prints to sell online “It's the happiest I’ve seen him in years”, Mom would say. She wasn’t wrong. I went with him occasionally to keep him company, but when he got focused, it was like he turned to stone with that camera in his hands. “I’m trying to get that perfect shot, Danny, it's out there”, was what he would usually say. 

I think he got a bit bored in retirement, and now he was treating this imaginary perfect shot like some sort of white whale, to cope with the boredom. But when we stepped out of his old banged up ford ranger, he told me, told me about the rumours he heard in town about a forgotten trail in the woods up in the mountains with nature that had been undisturbed for possibly decades.

At the beginning of the trail, it was hard to get my dad to start moving, mainly because he took every opportunity he could to take photos. Something was different this time, he was more about quantity than quality, which was unlike his usual style. Brushing this off, we set forth into the wild to bring back his prize, the perfect picture.

We hiked for a few more hours, listening to the sticks crunch and break under our feet, birds tweeting and talking about what my new job would entail and when I would be coming back home for visits, before he spotted the trail. “This is it!” he said excitedly at what looked to be no more than a broken off post like some sort of sad landmark. I was going to ask if he actually knew where we were going, but he was already pushing through the bushes behind the post. I followed him through pushing against the branches while calling out to him to wait up, otherwise we’ll get separated. I was just about to yell for him again when I burst out of the bushes and walked straight into the back of him, almost knocking myself over.

It felt like walking into a tree from the way his feet were rooted to the spot. He just stood there looking out at the forest ahead, only for a few seconds, but time seemed to stretch, making me feel uneasy. I tapped him on the shoulder, to which he reacted as if a bolt of lightning went through him as he jumped and spun around, scaring me at the same time. “Jesus! Sorry Danny I was in my own world there for a second” My heart was still recovering from the jump he gave me “Yeah from now on give me some time to catch up, before you sprint off” He apologised for wandering off while explaining the rumours he had heard on the internet and in town, about how he just had to be out here as soon as possible, that's when I stopped him.
 
While he was talking about Bigfoots and Mothmen, I noticed just how quiet it was “Hang on, just listen for a second” We stopped dead and listened. No birds, not a tweet, heck, not even any crickets. That’s when the feeling sets in, the one that's hard to explain when you’re in the moment, that impending sense of dread just creeping its head around the corner, like something knows it's got you, it's just a matter of time before you realise it too. It also had the same kind of feeling you get in church, that you’re supposed to keep your voice down, so we did, as if we couldn’t help it. Quietly, we made our way forward deeper into the woods, marking trees with paint along the way, making our own trail to find our way home.

We went on like this until the sun started to set. I had so many questions about what exactly my dad had heard from the town below the mountain, but I wanted to wait until we set up camp for the night. After setting up our tents, gathering wood for the fire, we sat down, a bit more at ease now listening to the crackle and pop of the wood as it burns. Thinking this was a good time for questions, I proceeded to hit him with the ones that had been bothering me more than most. “So why are we in such a rush to get out here, and whys this old trail so special anyway?” Grinning at this, I could tell he was barely containing his own excitement, so he told me.

“Once I got past the initial hoax sightings from people who were all too happy to spill the details on a shadow of a branch on their tent in the night, claiming it to be the goatman himself. I found the real ones, the people who were content to keep their mouths shut on what they had seen for the rest of their lives, that's when you know you’ve got something tangible when their tales start to sound the same. All these people who hadn’t met before, even decades apart between them, all had similar stories about this part of the woods, something not known by man, something that is deep in the heart of this forest that calls out to be discovered, its calling to me and I’m going to photograph it for my last trip out here”.

I perk my ears up at that “Last trip, what do you mean? I’m coming back later in the year so we can do this again” The look on his face said more than he was letting on, he smiled but the sadness in his eyes gave him away “What’s wrong?” My dad had something he wasn’t telling me, and I could see even now that he was going to try to hide it from me. He tried flipping the conversation to anything else, but I held my ground until he relented, letting out the air in his lungs and began to tell me about his diagnosis.

“I didn’t want to tell you until after, I mean, not even your mother knows, but she knows something's wrong. It started slowly this type of stuff always does, a slight case of memory fog is what I thought it was but when I found myself about a twenty minute walk away from home with no idea how I got there, I called the doctor for an appointment” I knew what he was talking about but he kept dodging the words because he knew as well as I did that saying it will make it more real but after a stinging few seconds of silence he said it anyway “ I have early onset dementia son” There it was, the pain in my chest manifested. For the first time in my whole life, I saw my father through and through “This is it, my last time out here, because I don’t want your mother to worry. Because honestly, I shouldn’t be out here now, but I would understand why you would want to go back now, knowing this” He looked up from the floor, looking for some sort of answer across the campfire, the smoke stinging my weeping eyes “Well, do you want to go back now?” His old eyes told me what I already knew “Okay then, but your telling mom when we get back she's owed that at least” Nodding slowly he got up, walked over and hugged me, before we both said goodnight and he turned in, while I stayed up for a while longer to think on what the next few months were going to be like, before hearing a snap of a branch somewhere in the dark in front of me.

The sorrow I felt earlier fled from my body, replaced by fear, while the rational part of my brain sprang to life, already firing on all cylinders. If we had been listening to the sounds of nature on the way up here, I wouldn't have thought too hard about this. But even now, the only sounds of the woods besides the breeze were just us and the crackling firepit we made, so what the hell was out there in the dark? My heart settled once I saw that it was possibly the only animal we had come across so far, it was a deer. I grabbed the old instant Polaroid camera I was given as a Kid from my bag to see if I could quickly snap a picture before it fled. 

I looked into the camera to see that this deer was moving further up the mountain at a snail's pace. From its white fur belly sagging beneath it, I thought it must be getting old. So since it was moving so slowly, I thought I could get a bit closer without startling it to get a better picture. I moved like a bull in a china shop, each step snapping every branch I could find, still the deer moved slowly forward up the mountain as if being pulled on an invisible leash. I decided to stop just ten feet away from it and took the picture, the flash going off was the equivalent of a flashback, lighting up the dark forest for a second before being consumed by the blackness again, and still that deer kept its slow speed steady.

Now I was a little uneasy, my dad would be in hysterics if he saw what I just did to get a picture, because if it were any normal deer, it would have fled the moment I sat up off the floor. So I decided to press my luck, and I stepped in front of it. 

I was expecting to see the white milky eyes of a blind and most likely deaf deer, but when I stood only just a couple of feet away, I could see its brown eyes in the reflection of the campfire, looking right past me, still focused on an unknown goal, using its old, shaky legs to get there. When it got up, it went right around me like a river passing around a stone, uncaring and undeterred. I waited there for a while longer, watching it silently as it walked from the light of the warm camp and back into the cold night.

I woke up pretty late in the day, the sun almost at its highest point, so we had a late breakfast/early lunch while dad was asking what I was doing up so late, so I explained the strange encounter I had with our late-night visitor. That's when he perked up at the sound of this: “Did you see which way it went?” I explained how it just seemed to be moving slowly further up the mountain, but we can probably still see its tracks if we look hard enough. Packing up quickly, we set off in search of our woodland guide.

While marching, the quiet woods were beginning to weigh on me, so I broke the silence by asking a few questions about what he heard from those people he was talking about yesterday. According to the older people in town that been in this nestled valley for most of their lives they all had a few stories to tell about weird things that would take place in the woods that surrounded them, but most of the time they could be chalked up to animals, people with no place to go living out there or local pranksters from the high school but every once in a while you get an account from a forest ranger, talking about sections of the woods being closed off to the public with no explanation or a strange thumping some of the older hikers report hearing off the trail, and some of them, well they don’t come home. After people search the woods for days and weeks with no sign of their missing family member, the case is shut, and those trails are closed off. Since then years have passed, real stories and myths have been shuffled like a deck of cards, and soon it all becomes a ghost story to tell your friends, then nobody cares about the old trails being found anymore.  

One story he found interesting was from a local ranger who was a friend of the family who got coffee at the diner my mom works at. He had been talking offhandedly about some of the local wildlife that had been acting strange again. Knowing that it was right up his alley, Mom immediately sent the ranger on over to their house and said he’ll get free lunch for the week if he gives her husband something to go on, out in the woods. So naturally, he went straight over to him and told him about the weird behaviour that had been happening on and off with the deer. “They just keep moving forward, doesn't matter if you get in their way or not, it's like they don’t even know you’re there. They just keep on keeping on. It's weird, sure, but sometimes when I’m out there, I feel it too, that pull that seems to have these old deer in a trance, but that's a mystery, for a young man, I’m retiring soon, so I don’t think I’ll be around to solve it”. After he left, my dad couldn’t wait to get out there and bring a one of a kind photo and a story home. He planned to question that ranger more before we set out, but he found out a few days before we left that no one had seen him come home after his shift one night.

There's most likely search parties out here now for him, and I’ve been keeping an eye out to no avail. I would like to think that dads got him on his mind as well, but that obsession I can see in his face when he talks about the tales people told him is slowly starting to take more of a toll on his empathy for the people that actually got lost out here. We stop every so often to take breaks which is when I start to worry about him, now that I know what he's been dealing with on his own, the sad part is now I can see it so much clearer in the way he drifts off in his own world when we’re walking then asks if I can hear something when there's nothing to be heard or when he accidentally repeats himself on a story he told me not five minuets earlier. I think being out here is making him worse. I decided I was going to break the news to him tonight. We need to go home.

We had been walking for hours and collapsed once we set up camp. My legs were aching. I could only imagine what he felt like after all of that walking, but that smile of his persisted, which was going to make this next part all the more painful. “We need to talk”, He played coy when I said that, probably thinking he could stall me until he thought of the perfect thing to say. He had been pretty quiet while helping to set up camp, like a kid who was trying to stay up by being quiet in front of the TV. He knew what I was going to say. “We need to go back dad” It stung the way he looked at me, not disappointed or angry, just sad, but he defended himself anyway. “You can go back if you want son, the trails marked, all you gotta do is follow the marked trees home” I recoiled a bit at that “I’m not going to leave you out here so you can wander off and get yourself lost and killed” Now he was changing his tune, with a slight piece of frustration in his voice talking about how this is it and there would be no more outings after this and basically rehashing what he said last night, before stopping abruptly and standing straight up “There it is again, can you hear it? The beating”.

Now he was scaring me, I had never seen someone's eyes that wide, like a rabbit that had just spotted a fox. Calmly, I walked up to him and grabbed his shoulders gently “I don’t hear anything dad its just the wind” A lie, but better than the alternative. He calmed down, sitting slowly “You’re right, we need to leave. I think I’ve made a mistake by bringing you out here. This isn’t for you” I didn’t know what he was talking about, but as long as he agreed to come back with me, I didn’t care. “Let's just get some sleep, and we’ll head out in the morning, okay?” With a sad smile, he said goodnight before heading off into his tent, and I did the same. In the morning, I got out of my tent and started to set up breakfast before feeling that horrible sense of dread again, now that the sleepiness was wearing off, that feeling told me, “When have you ever been up before your parents?” I practically ripped open his tent, but he was gone.

I had no idea what time he had left during the night, but by looking at what he left behind, I could tell all he had was the clothes on his back. I was losing daylight, I only took the essentials, a sleeping bag and dashed off after him. As my mad sprint continued, other woodland creatures appeared, some even that would have relished in tearing this herd apart, carnivorous and herbivorous alike moved together from all directions, all with the same motivation. Forwards. I couldn’t help but think of my dad when I looked at them. Did he even realise he had wandered off? I had no idea how bad he was since he got his diagnosis, questions flying through my panic-stricken brain, when did he leave, why didn’t he even leave a note, is he even alive?

I jogged as long as I could before needing to take a break against a tree, coughing hard with sweat dripping from my forehead. I took breaks a few and far between. While running, the forest seemed to turn from old dying trees and dead flowers into something beautiful. Nature clung to this dying place and refused to let itself go. Flowers hung from trees from the bottom of the trunks to the highest branches, all in one direction. The walk these peaceful creatures were on felt like a ceremony. I could see the sun was setting, making the forest a beautiful, picturesque landscape that he would have loved. It was going to be night soon, I had to keep going, I grabbed my flashlight from my bag and continued as the wildlife seemed to surround me, making me one with their herd, “Forwards” I kept muttering my mantra “Forwards”. 

As the dark crept in and my legs threatened to give out from under me, I felt it. The texture of the forest floor was softer than before, like walking through a marsh it became harder to lift my feet up from the molasses floor. I saw in front of my eyes flowers grow from just a sprout to a full bloom in a matter of seconds, life exhaled its lungs here to accelerate growth and birth of nature, faster than anything that should be possible. I could feel something else every few seconds, a steady *Thump* then again *Thump*, a heartbeat. I didn’t know what would happen if I let myself get swallowed up into the ground. Would I just suffocate, or would there be something down there waiting patiently? 

There was bile rising in my stomach, and my body was on its last legs. I had been pushing myself more than I had ever done before in my life, the adrenaline I felt from first running off after him had worn off shortly, making the rest of my journey that much harder. Along with this, I wasn’t having the same pull as the deer beside me, it felt like I was dragging an anchor, which made each step a conscious choice, because if I didn’t push now,  I knew I would give in and walk back the other way. Then came the soft glow beneath the soil, with each beat of the forest floor, a soft luminescence followed and intensified, I was close. There was a thick wall of trees ahead of me, almost acting like bodyguards against this secret of nature, animals pushed themselves through the tight gaps, and I followed, scraping my front and back against the trunks, scratching both sides of myself. I fell through the other side as if being birthed out of the treeline. I pulled my arms and hands out of the warm soup like ground as it desperately pulled onto me, regaining my balance, I stood tall to look forward and see the heart of the forest.

The old deer seemed to form a queue out from the treeline. They started from where I entered and waited patiently to move forward, their long journey now at an end. I followed with my eyes along where the dull-eyed creatures stood to see that they surrounded this hill in a spiral all the way up to the peak where a tall ancient tree stood. Its branches are as old as the rest of it, stretching towards the sky, flowing with the breeze, making them seem like a welcoming invitation to all who see. The glow came from the centre of the grey dying centre of the trunk. With each pulse, the glow fled from the source and raced along the path and back through the forest, leaving the centre of the tree just dim enough to see there was a hole waiting for others to walk in, and I saw for a split second before the radiance came back in force, there was a humanoid shadow walking across the threshold into the mouth of the tree.

With the last of my strength, I shove past the docile creatures in my way, even the birds that stood at attention on the backs of wolves didn’t budge as I clambered past them. Soon enough, I stood at the edge of this open maw. I stepped inside.

The pulse was starting to get faster, lighting up the inside of this stomach as I descended, getting covered in sap as I walked further down into the depths of this hungry beast, following its veins that masqueraded as roots. Each thump from below sent a warning to my brain, as if whatever was down here knew what I wanted from it. I reached the bottom, seeing a chamber ahead of me. Inside, I saw him taking steps forward into the pulsing mass of flesh containing all manner of poor creatures. My stomach dropped, and my mind screamed in horror at the sight of this hideous false god of nature that controlled its victim’s final days. I clawed and pulled through the chamber to get to him, with every movement of my legs sending pain shooting up through my entire body. I grabbed him by the arm, and he turned to face me, his left arm already halfway up to his elbow, inside the beating heart made of the dead. 

I screamed at him to pull his hand out, to just snap out of it, but I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t like the animals outside. He still had some willpower, and he was choosing to use it on walking into his death. It was like he was being enveloped by a snake, the hole was getting wider to accommodate his body to get my dad ready for digestion inside this bubbling, gurgling mass. I was so scared, I had no idea what he was thinking, but what was getting to me the most was that he still looked at me with those sad eyes, the same ones he used when I said we needed to go home. “Danny” was all he said. I ignored him and continued to pull in vain. “Its okay” tears falling from my eyes I still ignored him even with shoulder now consumed “Take my camera, do that for me, I know what's going to happen, I’ve seen the cycle” I told myself he was just confused that he didn’t know what he was doing, but he wasn’t, there was no look of confusion on his face, this was the look of someone who knows what kind of decision they just made. I slowly released my hand from his arm, took the camera from around his neck and hung it on my own. Even at my dad's death, he still gave me that smile, saying, “Go outside and get that once in a lifetime shot” I nodded, watching him enter the forest for the last time.

My mind now silent from the shock setting in, I did what he asked, I walked with ease through the tunnel, knowing the ancient tree was letting me go. I stroked the backs of deer and bears as I went, giving them a form of goodbye as they were pulled along up the hill. I reached where I had entered from and sat there while all the seniors of the woods migrated into their final resting place. 

It was in the early hours of the morning that I saw the change in the tree. Its branches are no longer brittle but healthy and strong, the bark going from an old grey to a shade of brown, looking more healthy and so mighty that no one could hope to chop it down. The pulses and thumps began to slow, so I got my camera ready for its last trick. The leaves sprouted as the morning sun rose behind the tree to greet it, giving it a wonderful shine along with a last pump of the heart. It shone brightly, the entire tree glistened brilliantly as I pressed the button, taking my dad's final perfect photo.       

I made my way back over days, fumbling around in what I thought was the right direction. Days passed, and I had little food on me, but I rationed it and carried on walking. I was found by rangers at some point in my delirium, rambling on about carnivorous trees. They brought me back to safety slowly and gently. I looked around to see that the trees and plant life around me were flourishing, while I crumbled in a heap. I couldn’t feel anything but hatred towards them, it was stupid, I know, hating a flower, but what else could I do?
 
I couldn’t explain what had happened when I got back. I tried explaining to anyone I could. I think even my own mother doubted me. I showed the photo to every doubting person in town, but all they saw was a tree. I don’t blame them, though it's more reasonable we got lost for days out in the woods, and my dad died of exposure, leaving me in a type of fugue state after witnessing his death. Eventually, I began to believe that, too. I struggled with that for a long time, and I decided to stay in the valley rather than go to that new job that said I could take as long as I needed. I moved on but stayed close to home. I had my whole life here, enjoying every second of it, until one night when I woke up suddenly to the sound I thought I had made up so long ago *Thump* it was faint, but I heard it.       

I think it let me go because I wasn’t ripe yet, but it's started now. I’m writing this down as a last farewell and to hopefully get people to understand why I will be joining the others in the heart of the forest. It's the cycle: you're born, you live, then you die, but sometimes you can give a part of yourself back before you do. I’m choosing to follow in my father's footsteps before the pull becomes unbearable. I’ll be one of many moving forward, but I wish to be conscious of my actions and not some dull-eyed deer being puppeted on a string. 

So I leave you with this, the story my father wanted to bring home. A legend about an old tree that calls out through the woods across the forest floor to those who are at the last of their days, so that it can begin life anew, so others may prosper in your place, and that's where I’m going.

Forwards.                     

I got home late from my job at around four in the morning after a long shift from one of our towns local bars, I had the whole of my day off tomorrow planned out, sleeping in till the afternoon then pizza and movies until I had to go to bed but when I woke to the sound of an alert on my phone that was much more powerful than my standard phone alarm could hope to be, I shot up alert in bed as if I was expecting to be dragged from under the covers out the door. I wiped the sleep from my eyes to see what the hell my phone was making so much noise over, so when my vision focused to see the huge message laid out in red on my home screen, my heart began to pump faster at the sight of “STAY INSIDE”. 

I got out of bed, my heart beating faster. I couldn’t help but think about the thousands of different implications this message had. The most obvious solution to me knowing what was going on was to just open my drapes and look outside. But I couldn’t help but delay myself. In my mind and in those few seconds between seeing that message and waking up, my perception of those drapes changed drastically from just keeping out the sun to keeping out any threat that may be just lingering behind them.

I decided I would rather check on social media to see what was happening, as if it would make a difference. It was like I could pretend it was happening to someone else. I was already a borderline recluse aside from going to work, so this might be the poke over the edge into a full paranoid hermit breakdown. Everything I tried to look up about what the message meant was being taken down in front of me. Every post that dared to ask “What’s happening outside?!” or “Have you seen what’s happened to them?” was promptly removed for breaking some rule I’m sure they made up on the spot. The only slight piece of evidence I was able to see was about five seconds of a video, which I could tell was taken in the centre of town. In those short few seconds, I saw what looked to be some sort of greyish powder falling gently downwards towards the people enjoying their weekend out in the summer festival, who pointed upwards nervously at the strange sight. 

The video was taken down before anything more happened, but that alone was making me feel unwell. Wrapping myself in my bed to try and take back what coziness was lost, I sat there staring at the window, amping myself up to just go on and take a look already. But that fear of the unknown had already made itself a nice new home inside my amygdala, acting like a set of chains to keep me safe from whatever was lurking just outside.

I needed to talk to my roommate, hopefully they would tell me what I wanted to hear. Some stupid reassurance that would put this whole thing to bed. So when I knocked on her door and walked around the rest of the darkened apartment to find her, I only flicked on the light switch in the kitchen to see the note she had left:

Hey

Heard you were still sleeping, so I’m going to get some food. Text me if you need anything!

Be back soon! 

Sara

My phone buzzed, “Coming back now. Please open the door, forgot my keys”. Now, in the past fifteen minutes, I had seen and heard almost practically nothing from the outside world, so my paranoia was in full swing, whilst other parts of my brain were trying to put out the fire that the first alert had started. *Knock Knock* The sound broke through the fragile silence, jolting me. Sara was back.

I stood there staring at the front door as if I had never seen it before. Why was I waiting? She’s right there behind that door, with answers about the outside world, so I just need to unlock the door and let her in. So why was I shaking so much? *Knock knock* “Could you let me in?” It was her voice. That was a stupid thought I had. Why wouldn’t it be? But still, something was off just ever so slightly with her voice. It had a slight rasp to it as if she was struggling to get the words out. I called out to her nervously, “Sorry, I’m struggling to find my keys, funnily enough, how was town anything happen while you were out?” I was holding my keys to my chest so tightly I thought they would puncture my skin while waiting for her response. “It was fine,” her voice came curtly with more of a hint of anger this time.

“Did you see the alert?” I asked desperately, trying to keep my own voice from falling apart. It felt like a lifetime before she answered, “Oh, that was just a test, you heard on the news they were doing that, right?” Her attitude had changed dramatically as if she was putting everything into this performance. I couldn’t describe the fear I felt in that moment. All of this just feels wrong. I leaned against the door to see through the peephole, but there was only blackness. She was covering it.

I was working up the courage to ask one last question that I knew was going to change everything. This situation wasn’t going away, not until I asked: “Why are you covering the peephole?” Silence. Horrible, deathly silence. The seconds passed like hours before Sara responded in a tone of barely contained rage. “Why are you trying to look at me? There is nothing wrong with me. I’m not like the others”. Taking a few shaky steps back, I listened to her words drop to a barely audible whisper, “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.” she did this for the next few minutes on repeat, while I stood there in the hallway with all colour draining from my face, and before I had another chance to ask a question she began hitting the door.

*BANG!* It was terrifying to listen to, but the door was strong and had no signs of being broken down. I hoped at least not wanting to put that to the test. What Sara was doing was desperate, if she wasn’t going to be let in, she was going to try with everything she had to break down this door. In the meantime, I took chairs and other furniture to put up against the door, while hyperventilating. A short time later, her hits and screams against the unyielding door ceased; soon after, sobs could be heard. Tears were streaming down my face from the stress and betrayal we both probably felt from each other.

I pleaded with her in desperation, “Please just tell me what's happening outside!?” Sara’s cries died down. “Just go outside” was all she said before I could hear her walk away sobbing loudly again, intensifying the guilt I felt tenfold. After I couldn’t hear her anymore, I went and sat down in the living room on the only chair I hadn’t forced up against the front door, then slowly let my eyes drift towards the windows and the drapes that were sealing me in here. It was time to look outside.          

At first, I pull the soft fabric back ever so slightly. I’m fully aware I'm making it worse for myself, but I can’t delay this any longer. I swing the drapes to the side to reveal nothing but the normal sight of the city below, except, where is everyone? I live on the second floor in an apartment complex with a perfect view of the busiest places in town. With my late nights and even later awakenings, the noise they would make at all hours of the day would keep me up for hours. So why was it so quiet now? 

I scanned down below to see if anyone was walking around outside, but nothing. The only thing I could gather was that something had happened to make everyone rush inside. Then I saw it, just about to melt out of sight, the street was covered in some sort of dark pink dust. I tried making sense of it, just to clutch at anything. Maybe it was some sort of petals they put out for a festival, or it was just trash that had been dumped there, all these theories fell flat on their face when I spotted one person taking a brave step outside.

From what I could tell, he was a man in his forties and was just stepping out of a convenience store with a few cautious steps, in the same way you would creep around your house trying not to wake up your parents coming back from a night out. I was so desperate to talk to someone, to help make sense of this, that I was about to open my window to yell at them for help, when the sky started to darken, and it began to snow dark grey dust again.

He turned back quickly, trying to retreat to the safety of the indoors, but when his hands reached for the door, he found it locked. I could see another man standing on the other side of the door, shaking his head in fear at the sight of the weather outside. I could hear the man yelling from up here, “Just let me back in! It hasn't touched me yet. Look!” It was the same type of helpless plea that Sara had done, and just like her, he began to bang against the door in desperation, but by this point, the dust had fallen in little clumps dancing in the air, then gently landed on his head, arms and back, then that’s when he began to scream, and so did I as I watched him change.

The dust seemed to bury itself in his skin, his body became rigid like he was standing at attention, but while his body was stiff, I could see on his bare arms that his skin began to move like some invisible force was pulling it back, treating his body like a toy to suit their sick amusement. The skin on his arms tightened and pulled back, so much that his finger bones started to poke through the skin of his hands, like his flesh was a type of glove and his skeleton was just taking them off, his fingerbones were covered in remnants of sinew and gore as he tore his way out of his own body, then he turned away to face the direction of my building in agony and fear possibly to stop the horrified stares he was receiving from the others behind the windows inside the store. Next, I could see what had happened to his face.

Where the dust had settled on the top of his skull, it seemed to pull with desperation out of the back of his head. A thick flesh bubble had started to form where all the skin was being turned like a crank that was being twisted and turned, so with each twist, all the parts of his face pulled back, his eyes were wider than they had ever been, his ability to blink was taken away, so he had no choice but to watch what happened to himself. His nostrils split and broke, making his cartilage a white translucent beak that pushed the front of his face apart like a t-shirt being torn, his top teeth tore through his lips while the sides of his mouth were pulled back in a nightmarish grin that he had no say in. 

After it seemed like the twisting had stopped, the bubble of gore that sat on his head, which had collected all the pulled muscles, sloughed off slowly, dripping onto the floor. Its work done, it fell to the ground and from what I was able to tell, it was feasting on its bounty. The dark pinkish blob fell apart in seconds, consuming itself like a hungry parasite and melting like strawberry ice cream in the hot sun, leaving what was left of the man now a nightmare standing there in the street with nothing else to do but scream in pain and look at himself with his forced open eyelids at the reflections of the windows around him.

Recoiling from the window in horror, I tried desperately to wipe the sight of his grotesque body from my mind. Had that been what happened to Sara? Was she now wandering around out there, with the same look of constant surprise on her face? While pushing myself off the floor of the living room, the sound of breaking glass could be heard, I didn’t even have to look to know he broke back in through the window of the store. I looked anyway.

The fact that he didn’t go into shock and collapse after suffering was making my guts turn inside out. But I imagine the only thing left that he could feel aside from the obvious pain was the rage and betrayal he felt towards those who abandoned him out there in the dust clouds. Horrified screaming could be heard from inside the store, echoing out through the empty streets. No one was coming to save them, least of all me. All I could do was watch as he dragged the few people into the afternoon overcast and became covered in the same dust.

I hid in shame behind the door of my living room, wrapping my arms around my legs, listening to the cries of all those people as they changed into something you would tell around a campfire. Later when it began to die down I forced myself to look behind the drapes one more time to see if at last the dust cloud had moved on, only to see all the unblinking monsters down below had disappeared all except for one that could still be seen that was dashing for the front doors of my apartment complex, the sound of their wet shoes filled with their own blood slapping against the concrete all with impossibly wide eyes fixed on me.

Their scampering footsteps could be heard from down the hall, while I could do nothing but arm myself with a kitchen knife and hold it tight. The look on their face terrified me. I could see those bloodshot eyes of theirs that now only contained the spark of a madman. Whatever they had been afflicted with, it had not even left them their sanity, almost as if they were compelled to take more people out there in the dust. The door to the hallway on this floor swung open and slammed against the wall.

Others were already inside the building, banging on my neighbour's doors in a false search for sanctuary. They knocked on doors with pleas, "There’s something out here, my Children are in danger!” or lies, “You need to get your family out of here! Please just come outside!” These came from their broken mouths and pulled back grins and were just a ploy to get someone to open the door, and the hoard of nightmares would take care of the rest. It wasn’t too long before all around me I heard the screams of people I barely knew. I looked again through my peephole to see a few people who had poorly chosen to open their doors in hopes of doing the right thing or escaping whatever other monster had been dreamt up. Instead, they were taken quickly, almost paraded through the hall and down the stairs. Or if all else failed, they would resort to bashing down the door, smashing their bones and exposed muscles against the hardwood, whilst everyone, including the people in the hall, wailed. Then, striding across the hall, an almost unfamiliar face returned to greet me, Sara.

Unlike last time, she did not cover the peephole, letting me see what became of her. She was like the others, a feral mad thing whose only purpose was to get others to join in their agony. The worst part was she didn’t say a word, just faced her, now completely exposed eyes right into the hole like she knew I was staring right back at her. I had no idea how long she stayed like that. My body was trembling, and my feet were stuck in place. She knew it was only a matter of time before they got in. Where was I going to go?

It was like watching an execution take place every time they shoved another poor soul outside to be pulled, stretched and moulded into another beast. But after the cruel process finished, they would go to the nearest building to find more. The clouds would activate like a sensor every time another person who hadn’t been torn and stretched stepped into the open.

 I checked compulsively, often hoping Sara would have moved on, but still she stood there waiting. Her eyes must have been in hellish pain, all of them must have been. Over the past few hours, they were now finding it more difficult to find their way around; they were like bats pouncing on whatever small noise dared to make its presence known. Late into the night, Sara and a few others must have gotten tired of waiting for people to come out, so they began to slam their haunting frames even harder against the door. The sound of breaking bones and splattering flesh against wood made me flinch with each attempt. At one point or another, that door is going to give. 

That’s why I’m attempting to post this now. I don’t know why this is happening, or why every time someone tried to get the word out anywhere, it would be taken down. So this is my attempt. I’m trapped in here with nothing but a kitchen knife. I’ve never hurt anyone before, and I still don’t want to because only a few hours ago, those things outside were people. I’m writing this now from the inside of one of my closets, hoping that I stay hidden from them long enough so that they go away. 

They’re inside.

I’ll update this as soon as they leave, so until then, please, if you’re outside, you need to find a place to hide as soon as possible.

Good luck.              

I got home late from my job at around four in the morning after a long shift from one of our towns local bars, I had the whole of my day off tomorrow planned out, sleeping in till the afternoon then pizza and movies until I had to go to bed but when I woke to the sound of an alert on my phone that was much more powerful than my standard phone alarm could hope to be, I shot up alert in bed as if I was expecting to be dragged from under the covers out the door. I wiped the sleep from my eyes to see what the hell my phone was making so much noise over, so when my vision focused to see the huge message laid out in red on my home screen, my heart began to pump faster at the sight of “STAY INSIDE”. 

I got out of bed, my heart beating faster. I couldn’t help but think about the thousands of different implications this message had. The most obvious solution to me knowing what was going on was to just open my drapes and look outside. But I couldn’t help but delay myself. In my mind and in those few seconds between seeing that message and waking up, my perception of those drapes changed drastically from just keeping out the sun to keeping out any threat that may be just lingering behind them.

I decided I would rather check on social media to see what was happening, as if it would make a difference. It was like I could pretend it was happening to someone else. I was already a borderline recluse aside from going to work, so this might be the poke over the edge into a full paranoid hermit breakdown. Everything I tried to look up about what the message meant was being taken down in front of me. Every post that dared to ask “What’s happening outside?!” or “Have you seen what’s happened to them?” was promptly removed for breaking some rule I’m sure they made up on the spot. The only slight piece of evidence I was able to see was about five seconds of a video, which I could tell was taken in the centre of town. In those short few seconds, I saw what looked to be some sort of greyish powder falling gently downwards towards the people enjoying their weekend out in the summer festival, who pointed upwards nervously at the strange sight. 

The video was taken down before anything more happened, but that alone was making me feel unwell. Wrapping myself in my bed to try and take back what coziness was lost, I sat there staring at the window, amping myself up to just go on and take a look already. But that fear of the unknown had already made itself a nice new home inside my amygdala, acting like a set of chains to keep me safe from whatever was lurking just outside.

I needed to talk to my roommate, hopefully they would tell me what I wanted to hear. Some stupid reassurance that would put this whole thing to bed. So when I knocked on her door and walked around the rest of the darkened apartment to find her, I only flicked on the light switch in the kitchen to see the note she had left:

Hey

Heard you were still sleeping, so I’m going to get some food. Text me if you need anything!

Be back soon! 

Sara

My phone buzzed, “Coming back now. Please open the door, forgot my keys”. Now, in the past fifteen minutes, I had seen and heard almost practically nothing from the outside world, so my paranoia was in full swing, whilst other parts of my brain were trying to put out the fire that the first alert had started. *Knock Knock* The sound broke through the fragile silence, jolting me. Sara was back.

I stood there staring at the front door as if I had never seen it before. Why was I waiting? She’s right there behind that door, with answers about the outside world, so I just need to unlock the door and let her in. So why was I shaking so much? *Knock knock* “Could you let me in?” It was her voice. That was a stupid thought I had. Why wouldn’t it be? But still, something was off just ever so slightly with her voice. It had a slight rasp to it as if she was struggling to get the words out. I called out to her nervously, “Sorry, I’m struggling to find my keys, funnily enough, how was town anything happen while you were out?” I was holding my keys to my chest so tightly I thought they would puncture my skin while waiting for her response. “It was fine,” her voice came curtly with more of a hint of anger this time.

“Did you see the alert?” I asked desperately, trying to keep my own voice from falling apart. It felt like a lifetime before she answered, “Oh, that was just a test, you heard on the news they were doing that, right?” Her attitude had changed dramatically as if she was putting everything into this performance. I couldn’t describe the fear I felt in that moment. All of this just feels wrong. I leaned against the door to see through the peephole, but there was only blackness. She was covering it.

I was working up the courage to ask one last question that I knew was going to change everything. This situation wasn’t going away, not until I asked: “Why are you covering the peephole?” Silence. Horrible, deathly silence. The seconds passed like hours before Sara responded in a tone of barely contained rage. “Why are you trying to look at me? There is nothing wrong with me. I’m not like the others”. Taking a few shaky steps back, I listened to her words drop to a barely audible whisper, “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.” she did this for the next few minutes on repeat, while I stood there in the hallway with all colour draining from my face, and before I had another chance to ask a question she began hitting the door.

*BANG!* It was terrifying to listen to, but the door was strong and had no signs of being broken down. I hoped at least not wanting to put that to the test. What Sara was doing was desperate, if she wasn’t going to be let in, she was going to try with everything she had to break down this door. In the meantime, I took chairs and other furniture to put up against the door, while hyperventilating. A short time later, her hits and screams against the unyielding door ceased; soon after, sobs could be heard. Tears were streaming down my face from the stress and betrayal we both probably felt from each other.

I pleaded with her in desperation, “Please just tell me what's happening outside!?” Sara’s cries died down. “Just go outside” was all she said before I could hear her walk away sobbing loudly again, intensifying the guilt I felt tenfold. After I couldn’t hear her anymore, I went and sat down in the living room on the only chair I hadn’t forced up against the front door, then slowly let my eyes drift towards the windows and the drapes that were sealing me in here. It was time to look outside.          

At first, I pull the soft fabric back ever so slightly. I’m fully aware I'm making it worse for myself, but I can’t delay this any longer. I swing the drapes to the side to reveal nothing but the normal sight of the city below, except, where is everyone? I live on the second floor in an apartment complex with a perfect view of the busiest places in town. With my late nights and even later awakenings, the noise they would make at all hours of the day would keep me up for hours. So why was it so quiet now? 

I scanned down below to see if anyone was walking around outside, but nothing. The only thing I could gather was that something had happened to make everyone rush inside. Then I saw it, just about to melt out of sight, the street was covered in some sort of dark pink dust. I tried making sense of it, just to clutch at anything. Maybe it was some sort of petals they put out for a festival, or it was just trash that had been dumped there, all these theories fell flat on their face when I spotted one person taking a brave step outside.

From what I could tell, he was a man in his forties and was just stepping out of a convenience store with a few cautious steps, in the same way you would creep around your house trying not to wake up your parents coming back from a night out. I was so desperate to talk to someone, to help make sense of this, that I was about to open my window to yell at them for help, when the sky started to darken, and it began to snow dark grey dust again.

He turned back quickly, trying to retreat to the safety of the indoors, but when his hands reached for the door, he found it locked. I could see another man standing on the other side of the door, shaking his head in fear at the sight of the weather outside. I could hear the man yelling from up here, “Just let me back in! It hasn't touched me yet. Look!” It was the same type of helpless plea that Sara had done, and just like her, he began to bang against the door in desperation, but by this point, the dust had fallen in little clumps dancing in the air, then gently landed on his head, arms and back, then that’s when he began to scream, and so did I as I watched him change.

The dust seemed to bury itself in his skin, his body became rigid like he was standing at attention, but while his body was stiff, I could see on his bare arms that his skin began to move like some invisible force was pulling it back, treating his body like a toy to suit their sick amusement. The skin on his arms tightened and pulled back, so much that his finger bones started to poke through the skin of his hands, like his flesh was a type of glove and his skeleton was just taking them off, his fingerbones were covered in remnants of sinew and gore as he tore his way out of his own body, then he turned away to face the direction of my building in agony and fear possibly to stop the horrified stares he was receiving from the others behind the windows inside the store. Next, I could see what had happened to his face.

Where the dust had settled on the top of his skull, it seemed to pull with desperation out of the back of his head. A thick flesh bubble had started to form where all the skin was being turned like a crank that was being twisted and turned, so with each twist, all the parts of his face pulled back, his eyes were wider than they had ever been, his ability to blink was taken away, so he had no choice but to watch what happened to himself. His nostrils split and broke, making his cartilage a white translucent beak that pushed the front of his face apart like a t-shirt being torn, his top teeth tore through his lips while the sides of his mouth were pulled back in a nightmarish grin that he had no say in. 

After it seemed like the twisting had stopped, the bubble of gore that sat on his head, which had collected all the pulled muscles, sloughed off slowly, dripping onto the floor. Its work done, it fell to the ground and from what I was able to tell, it was feasting on its bounty. The dark pinkish blob fell apart in seconds, consuming itself like a hungry parasite and melting like strawberry ice cream in the hot sun, leaving what was left of the man now a nightmare standing there in the street with nothing else to do but scream in pain and look at himself with his forced open eyelids at the reflections of the windows around him.

Recoiling from the window in horror, I tried desperately to wipe the sight of his grotesque body from my mind. Had that been what happened to Sara? Was she now wandering around out there, with the same look of constant surprise on her face? While pushing myself off the floor of the living room, the sound of breaking glass could be heard, I didn’t even have to look to know he broke back in through the window of the store. I looked anyway.

The fact that he didn’t go into shock and collapse after suffering was making my guts turn inside out. But I imagine the only thing left that he could feel aside from the obvious pain was the rage and betrayal he felt towards those who abandoned him out there in the dust clouds. Horrified screaming could be heard from inside the store, echoing out through the empty streets. No one was coming to save them, least of all me. All I could do was watch as he dragged the few people into the afternoon overcast and became covered in the same dust.

I hid in shame behind the door of my living room, wrapping my arms around my legs, listening to the cries of all those people as they changed into something you would tell around a campfire. Later when it began to die down I forced myself to look behind the drapes one more time to see if at last the dust cloud had moved on, only to see all the unblinking monsters down below had disappeared all except for one that could still be seen that was dashing for the front doors of my apartment complex, the sound of their wet shoes filled with their own blood slapping against the concrete all with impossibly wide eyes fixed on me.

Their scampering footsteps could be heard from down the hall, while I could do nothing but arm myself with a kitchen knife and hold it tight. The look on their face terrified me. I could see those bloodshot eyes of theirs that now only contained the spark of a madman. Whatever they had been afflicted with, it had not even left them their sanity, almost as if they were compelled to take more people out there in the dust. The door to the hallway on this floor swung open and slammed against the wall.

Others were already inside the building, banging on my neighbour's doors in a false search for sanctuary. They knocked on doors with pleas, "There’s something out here, my Children are in danger!” or lies, “You need to get your family out of here! Please just come outside!” These came from their broken mouths and pulled back grins and were just a ploy to get someone to open the door, and the hoard of nightmares would take care of the rest. It wasn’t too long before all around me I heard the screams of people I barely knew. I looked again through my peephole to see a few people who had poorly chosen to open their doors in hopes of doing the right thing or escaping whatever other monster had been dreamt up. Instead, they were taken quickly, almost paraded through the hall and down the stairs. Or if all else failed, they would resort to bashing down the door, smashing their bones and exposed muscles against the hardwood, whilst everyone, including the people in the hall, wailed. Then, striding across the hall, an almost unfamiliar face returned to greet me, Sara.

Unlike last time, she did not cover the peephole, letting me see what became of her. She was like the others, a feral mad thing whose only purpose was to get others to join in their agony. The worst part was she didn’t say a word, just faced her, now completely exposed eyes right into the hole like she knew I was staring right back at her. I had no idea how long she stayed like that. My body was trembling, and my feet were stuck in place. She knew it was only a matter of time before they got in. Where was I going to go?

It was like watching an execution take place every time they shoved another poor soul outside to be pulled, stretched and moulded into another beast. But after the cruel process finished, they would go to the nearest building to find more. The clouds would activate like a sensor every time another person who hadn’t been torn and stretched stepped into the open.

 I checked compulsively, often hoping Sara would have moved on, but still she stood there waiting. Her eyes must have been in hellish pain, all of them must have been. Over the past few hours, they were now finding it more difficult to find their way around; they were like bats pouncing on whatever small noise dared to make its presence known. Late into the night, Sara and a few others must have gotten tired of waiting for people to come out, so they began to slam their haunting frames even harder against the door. The sound of breaking bones and splattering flesh against wood made me flinch with each attempt. At one point or another, that door is going to give. 

That’s why I’m attempting to post this now. I don’t know why this is happening, or why every time someone tried to get the word out anywhere, it would be taken down. So this is my attempt. I’m trapped in here with nothing but a kitchen knife. I’ve never hurt anyone before, and I still don’t want to because only a few hours ago, those things outside were people. I’m writing this now from the inside of one of my closets, hoping that I stay hidden from them long enough so that they go away. 

They’re inside.

I’ll update this as soon as they leave, so until then, please, if you’re outside, you need to find a place to hide as soon as possible.

Good luck.              

I got home late from my job at around four in the morning after a long shift from one of our towns local bars, I had the whole of my day off tomorrow planned out, sleeping in till the afternoon then pizza and movies until I had to go to bed but when I woke to the sound of an alert on my phone that was much more powerful than my standard phone alarm could hope to be, I shot up alert in bed as if I was expecting to be dragged from under the covers out the door. I wiped the sleep from my eyes to see what the hell my phone was making so much noise over, so when my vision focused to see the huge message laid out in red on my home screen, my heart began to pump faster at the sight of “STAY INSIDE”. 

I got out of bed, my heart beating faster. I couldn’t help but think about the thousands of different implications this message had. The most obvious solution to me knowing what was going on was to just open my drapes and look outside. But I couldn’t help but delay myself. In my mind and in those few seconds between seeing that message and waking up, my perception of those drapes changed drastically from just keeping out the sun to keeping out any threat that may be just lingering behind them.

I decided I would rather check on social media to see what was happening, as if it would make a difference. It was like I could pretend it was happening to someone else. I was already a borderline recluse aside from going to work, so this might be the poke over the edge into a full paranoid hermit breakdown. Everything I tried to look up about what the message meant was being taken down in front of me. Every post that dared to ask “What’s happening outside?!” or “Have you seen what’s happened to them?” was promptly removed for breaking some rule I’m sure they made up on the spot. The only slight piece of evidence I was able to see was about five seconds of a video, which I could tell was taken in the centre of town. In those short few seconds, I saw what looked to be some sort of greyish powder falling gently downwards towards the people enjoying their weekend out in the summer festival, who pointed upwards nervously at the strange sight. 

The video was taken down before anything more happened, but that alone was making me feel unwell. Wrapping myself in my bed to try and take back what coziness was lost, I sat there staring at the window, amping myself up to just go on and take a look already. But that fear of the unknown had already made itself a nice new home inside my amygdala, acting like a set of chains to keep me safe from whatever was lurking just outside.

I needed to talk to my roommate, hopefully they would tell me what I wanted to hear. Some stupid reassurance that would put this whole thing to bed. So when I knocked on her door and walked around the rest of the darkened apartment to find her, I only flicked on the light switch in the kitchen to see the note she had left:

Hey

Heard you were still sleeping, so I’m going to get some food. Text me if you need anything!

Be back soon! 

Sara

My phone buzzed, “Coming back now. Please open the door, forgot my keys”. Now, in the past fifteen minutes, I had seen and heard almost practically nothing from the outside world, so my paranoia was in full swing, whilst other parts of my brain were trying to put out the fire that the first alert had started. *Knock Knock* The sound broke through the fragile silence, jolting me. Sara was back.

I stood there staring at the front door as if I had never seen it before. Why was I waiting? She’s right there behind that door, with answers about the outside world, so I just need to unlock the door and let her in. So why was I shaking so much? *Knock knock* “Could you let me in?” It was her voice. That was a stupid thought I had. Why wouldn’t it be? But still, something was off just ever so slightly with her voice. It had a slight rasp to it as if she was struggling to get the words out. I called out to her nervously, “Sorry, I’m struggling to find my keys, funnily enough, how was town anything happen while you were out?” I was holding my keys to my chest so tightly I thought they would puncture my skin while waiting for her response. “It was fine,” her voice came curtly with more of a hint of anger this time.

“Did you see the alert?” I asked desperately, trying to keep my own voice from falling apart. It felt like a lifetime before she answered, “Oh, that was just a test, you heard on the news they were doing that, right?” Her attitude had changed dramatically as if she was putting everything into this performance. I couldn’t describe the fear I felt in that moment. All of this just feels wrong. I leaned against the door to see through the peephole, but there was only blackness. She was covering it.

I was working up the courage to ask one last question that I knew was going to change everything. This situation wasn’t going away, not until I asked: “Why are you covering the peephole?” Silence. Horrible, deathly silence. The seconds passed like hours before Sara responded in a tone of barely contained rage. “Why are you trying to look at me? There is nothing wrong with me. I’m not like the others”. Taking a few shaky steps back, I listened to her words drop to a barely audible whisper, “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.” she did this for the next few minutes on repeat, while I stood there in the hallway with all colour draining from my face, and before I had another chance to ask a question she began hitting the door.

*BANG!* It was terrifying to listen to, but the door was strong and had no signs of being broken down. I hoped at least not wanting to put that to the test. What Sara was doing was desperate, if she wasn’t going to be let in, she was going to try with everything she had to break down this door. In the meantime, I took chairs and other furniture to put up against the door, while hyperventilating. A short time later, her hits and screams against the unyielding door ceased; soon after, sobs could be heard. Tears were streaming down my face from the stress and betrayal we both probably felt from each other.

I pleaded with her in desperation, “Please just tell me what's happening outside!?” Sara’s cries died down. “Just go outside” was all she said before I could hear her walk away sobbing loudly again, intensifying the guilt I felt tenfold. After I couldn’t hear her anymore, I went and sat down in the living room on the only chair I hadn’t forced up against the front door, then slowly let my eyes drift towards the windows and the drapes that were sealing me in here. It was time to look outside.          

At first, I pull the soft fabric back ever so slightly. I’m fully aware I'm making it worse for myself, but I can’t delay this any longer. I swing the drapes to the side to reveal nothing but the normal sight of the city below, except, where is everyone? I live on the second floor in an apartment complex with a perfect view of the busiest places in town. With my late nights and even later awakenings, the noise they would make at all hours of the day would keep me up for hours. So why was it so quiet now? 

I scanned down below to see if anyone was walking around outside, but nothing. The only thing I could gather was that something had happened to make everyone rush inside. Then I saw it, just about to melt out of sight, the street was covered in some sort of dark pink dust. I tried making sense of it, just to clutch at anything. Maybe it was some sort of petals they put out for a festival, or it was just trash that had been dumped there, all these theories fell flat on their face when I spotted one person taking a brave step outside.

From what I could tell, he was a man in his forties and was just stepping out of a convenience store with a few cautious steps, in the same way you would creep around your house trying not to wake up your parents coming back from a night out. I was so desperate to talk to someone, to help make sense of this, that I was about to open my window to yell at them for help, when the sky started to darken, and it began to snow dark grey dust again.

He turned back quickly, trying to retreat to the safety of the indoors, but when his hands reached for the door, he found it locked. I could see another man standing on the other side of the door, shaking his head in fear at the sight of the weather outside. I could hear the man yelling from up here, “Just let me back in! It hasn't touched me yet. Look!” It was the same type of helpless plea that Sara had done, and just like her, he began to bang against the door in desperation, but by this point, the dust had fallen in little clumps dancing in the air, then gently landed on his head, arms and back, then that’s when he began to scream, and so did I as I watched him change.

The dust seemed to bury itself in his skin, his body became rigid like he was standing at attention, but while his body was stiff, I could see on his bare arms that his skin began to move like some invisible force was pulling it back, treating his body like a toy to suit their sick amusement. The skin on his arms tightened and pulled back, so much that his finger bones started to poke through the skin of his hands, like his flesh was a type of glove and his skeleton was just taking them off, his fingerbones were covered in remnants of sinew and gore as he tore his way out of his own body, then he turned away to face the direction of my building in agony and fear possibly to stop the horrified stares he was receiving from the others behind the windows inside the store. Next, I could see what had happened to his face.

Where the dust had settled on the top of his skull, it seemed to pull with desperation out of the back of his head. A thick flesh bubble had started to form where all the skin was being turned like a crank that was being twisted and turned, so with each twist, all the parts of his face pulled back, his eyes were wider than they had ever been, his ability to blink was taken away, so he had no choice but to watch what happened to himself. His nostrils split and broke, making his cartilage a white translucent beak that pushed the front of his face apart like a t-shirt being torn, his top teeth tore through his lips while the sides of his mouth were pulled back in a nightmarish grin that he had no say in. 

After it seemed like the twisting had stopped, the bubble of gore that sat on his head, which had collected all the pulled muscles, sloughed off slowly, dripping onto the floor. Its work done, it fell to the ground and from what I was able to tell, it was feasting on its bounty. The dark pinkish blob fell apart in seconds, consuming itself like a hungry parasite and melting like strawberry ice cream in the hot sun, leaving what was left of the man now a nightmare standing there in the street with nothing else to do but scream in pain and look at himself with his forced open eyelids at the reflections of the windows around him.

Recoiling from the window in horror, I tried desperately to wipe the sight of his grotesque body from my mind. Had that been what happened to Sara? Was she now wandering around out there, with the same look of constant surprise on her face? While pushing myself off the floor of the living room, the sound of breaking glass could be heard, I didn’t even have to look to know he broke back in through the window of the store. I looked anyway.

The fact that he didn’t go into shock and collapse after suffering was making my guts turn inside out. But I imagine the only thing left that he could feel aside from the obvious pain was the rage and betrayal he felt towards those who abandoned him out there in the dust clouds. Horrified screaming could be heard from inside the store, echoing out through the empty streets. No one was coming to save them, least of all me. All I could do was watch as he dragged the few people into the afternoon overcast and became covered in the same dust.

I hid in shame behind the door of my living room, wrapping my arms around my legs, listening to the cries of all those people as they changed into something you would tell around a campfire. Later when it began to die down I forced myself to look behind the drapes one more time to see if at last the dust cloud had moved on, only to see all the unblinking monsters down below had disappeared all except for one that could still be seen that was dashing for the front doors of my apartment complex, the sound of their wet shoes filled with their own blood slapping against the concrete all with impossibly wide eyes fixed on me.

Their scampering footsteps could be heard from down the hall, while I could do nothing but arm myself with a kitchen knife and hold it tight. The look on their face terrified me. I could see those bloodshot eyes of theirs that now only contained the spark of a madman. Whatever they had been afflicted with, it had not even left them their sanity, almost as if they were compelled to take more people out there in the dust. The door to the hallway on this floor swung open and slammed against the wall.

Others were already inside the building, banging on my neighbour's doors in a false search for sanctuary. They knocked on doors with pleas, "There’s something out here, my Children are in danger!” or lies, “You need to get your family out of here! Please just come outside!” These came from their broken mouths and pulled back grins and were just a ploy to get someone to open the door, and the hoard of nightmares would take care of the rest. It wasn’t too long before all around me I heard the screams of people I barely knew. I looked again through my peephole to see a few people who had poorly chosen to open their doors in hopes of doing the right thing or escaping whatever other monster had been dreamt up. Instead, they were taken quickly, almost paraded through the hall and down the stairs. Or if all else failed, they would resort to bashing down the door, smashing their bones and exposed muscles against the hardwood, whilst everyone, including the people in the hall, wailed. Then, striding across the hall, an almost unfamiliar face returned to greet me, Sara.

Unlike last time, she did not cover the peephole, letting me see what became of her. She was like the others, a feral mad thing whose only purpose was to get others to join in their agony. The worst part was she didn’t say a word, just faced her, now completely exposed eyes right into the hole like she knew I was staring right back at her. I had no idea how long she stayed like that. My body was trembling, and my feet were stuck in place. She knew it was only a matter of time before they got in. Where was I going to go?

It was like watching an execution take place every time they shoved another poor soul outside to be pulled, stretched and moulded into another beast. But after the cruel process finished, they would go to the nearest building to find more. The clouds would activate like a sensor every time another person who hadn’t been torn and stretched stepped into the open.

 I checked compulsively, often hoping Sara would have moved on, but still she stood there waiting. Her eyes must have been in hellish pain, all of them must have been. Over the past few hours, they were now finding it more difficult to find their way around; they were like bats pouncing on whatever small noise dared to make its presence known. Late into the night, Sara and a few others must have gotten tired of waiting for people to come out, so they began to slam their haunting frames even harder against the door. The sound of breaking bones and splattering flesh against wood made me flinch with each attempt. At one point or another, that door is going to give. 

That’s why I’m attempting to post this now. I don’t know why this is happening, or why every time someone tried to get the word out anywhere, it would be taken down. So this is my attempt. I’m trapped in here with nothing but a kitchen knife. I’ve never hurt anyone before, and I still don’t want to because only a few hours ago, those things outside were people. I’m writing this now from the inside of one of my closets, hoping that I stay hidden from them long enough so that they go away. 

They’re inside.

I’ll update this as soon as they leave, so until then, please, if you’re outside, you need to find a place to hide as soon as possible.

Good luck.              

I’m hoping someone can help me. I’m having trouble putting this all down, but hopefully you’ll understand why I need someone to call me as soon as possible. You see, it started about a week ago, just after finishing another late shift. I was planning on driving down my usual route back home, sadly, the whole road was closed due to road works. Which meant I had to take the longer country road back. After pulling my frustrated face off my steering wheel, thinking about the forty-five minutes of sleep I was actively losing, I turned around to drive through the quiet backroads.

While the streetlights faded behind me in the rearview, all I could do was curse under my breath about all the small inconveniences in my bubble that seemed to line up perfectly today. My crappy boss that saw me on the way out the door stopped me to ask, “Could you stay a little longer? We need to finish our presentation for the board. It'd mean the world to me.” While he put on his coat, patting me on the back before adding a “Thanks bud, you’re the best”.

I’d like to think this was an out-of-the-blue type of day, honestly this was becoming more typical with each passing week. I remember thinking about quitting, then running through the whole interview process again with other companies, along with all the other headaches that come with searching for a new job, so I quickly shut the idea down.

So, twenty minutes into my detour, as the clock struck midnight, the radio that was blaring to keep myself awake turned to static, eating away at my music until all that was left was a chipper voice breaking through to announce himself.

“Gooooood evening to all you lovely listeners, and welcome back to Midnight radio, it’s me, the host, back again to bring all the joy of a late night show”. 

“What the hell?” I muttered, thinking I'd probably picked up a signal from some independent station. This didn’t stop me from attempting to switch my own music back on before giving up a few attempts later. Rather than risk driving into the nearest tree, I kept “the host” on while I continued on my drive. As I approached my driveway, I found myself enjoying the show more. There was new music from bands like: Tall Man with the Backbone, Six Dollar Sunglasses, and Jim Jones retirement plan. 

It was almost one o'clock when the host came back on after Tall Man’s latest hit “Don’t go looking for my face” finished playing before closing out with “Well, listeners, we’ve come to the end. We’ll be back tomorrow night with a few new additions to our little radio show, so be sure to tune in. I hope you have a good rest of your night because sometimes it might just be your last, goodnight folks”. With that ominous last sentence, the strange broadcast ended, leaving me in the static, sitting idle in my driveway. Feeling a lot more relaxed, I sank into my bed, set my alarm for work, then let myself drift off.

The next day, I get into work a little later than I planned after sleeping in past my alarm. My boss decided to make a big joke with a fat grin on his face when I walked through the door, “Well, look who decided to show up! Maybe lay off the drinking on a work night, eh champ?” Fifteen minutes by the way. I was late by Fifteen god damn minutes after doing his overdue work, and I got a live at the Apollo stand up routine. I centred myself, letting all the awful things that I could do to him fade from my mind. My body's tense muscles loosen as I take a deep breath. “You’re right! Haha! Anyway, we’ve got that big presentation coming up, let's get in there!” Yeah, I hate myself too.

We walked in to see the heads of the other departments all gathered to hear our new finance plan to help turn this company around. I’m not gonna leave any details here because, well, I don’t want people to find out where I work, and second… This is all incredibly boring. The point is, I did all the work. 

So when this guy, at the beginning of this presentation that I worked on for weeks, decides he’s more “qualified” to present this to the others than I am, while introducing it like he did all the work to show off. I make a fuss, I stand up for myself, I tell him I’m the guy who did it, while all he did was sneak a greasy bag of food into his office to eat. (He thinks he’s slick, but we can hear him gorging inside that wet slop filled box of his). 

After getting some of this out of my system, letting the red mist leave my body, I realise I’m standing there with the other bosses of the company who are now convinced their fellow boss has brought a screaming mad man into the workplace. To top it all off, after I’m done mouthing off, all he does is put his sweaty palm on my shoulder, while saying, “Why don’t you go home for the day?”.

The expression on my face clearly didn’t help people's feelings towards me at that current moment, so without further comment, I slowly walked back out of the room, listening to his voice irritating me further about how “Sorry he is for my outburst” and to just move on with HIS presentation.

Grinding my teeth all the way home, walking through my door before flopping my entire body onto my couch. I decide then and there, after today's final straw, I will be quitting in the morning. Until that happens, I’m gonna drown myself in my feelings. Grabbing the remote, I stick on a movie I’ve seen a hundred times over while trying to imagine what it would be like if I never had to work ever again.

A few hours passed by before my phone started pinging with notifications from the work group chat. For the first couple of pings, I ignored them, but when they piled up to the point where I thought my phone was going to explode, I relented, picked up my phone to see our whole office going out after work to a bar with pictures of what looked like the best night of this year.

People were ecstatic because our boss did a stellar performance, so much so that they all got together and organised an impromptu party to celebrate. Looking up from my phone, eyeing the bottle of Jack that had been waiting for me ever since I walked through the door. I give up. “Well, I might as well play the part of the office drunk”. After an hour and half a bottle later, I was three sheets to the wind. If you had walked past my house to listen, you’d think you’d have heard a great get together happening. 

It was right in the middle of not my most beautiful moment when the speakers I set up to play bad music from the early 2000’s crackled, popped and screeched static, then swiftly turned into the late night greeting from the host. “Goood evening listeners, welcome back to Midnight radio,  tonight we’ve got a few more new bands lined up for the next hour, there will also be a little treat for some of our newer listeners at the end of the hour, so stay with us while we get settled in to the sound of Motorbike Cascade by the Shredders”. I jumped out of my seat at the sound of his announcement. I went over to my speakers while checking my phone for any changes. Nothing had changed on my phone, it was still showing that my playlist was still connected to the speakers.

I stood there scratching my head, wondering how the hell this radio station began blaring through. But as I said, I was completely drunk at the time and couldn’t be bothered to fix the issue. Instead, I decided to sit down to enjoy the next hour or so before resigning myself to pass out on my couch.

What followed was music that topped last night's selection by a mile, for the strange names that they were given, I wrote them off as some new indie bands just pushing their stuff out there. More bands came and went with peculiar names until the last five minutes of the show, when everything came to a dead stop.

Silence. For about thirty seconds, there was nothing, to the point where I got up to check if my speakers had just given up. As I reached out to turn them on and off again, the host came back in a flash with more of an upbeat tone than before. “Well, folks, we’re coming up to that special surprise we’ve been cooking up. Tonight we will be calling one listener to play, What’s that song!” A crowd can be heard applauding in the background from one of his sound effects. “We here at Midnight radio wanted to thank you for the new listeners for tuning in, you’re making dreams of ours come true, so let's call a lucky listener now!” My phone buzzes in my hand.

I look down to see no number displayed on my phone, only a big green button is shown. Without much of a second thought, I drunkenly thumb the button, swing the phone up to my ear while slurring a big “Yelllllow!” The host's voice bursted out of my phone with the same enthusiasm, “Hello there! Congrats on being called in for our one question quiz! How are you feeling today?”.

I wasn’t sure how many people might have been listening to this broadcast at the time, although I don’t think knowing would’ve stopped me from blurting out details about why I was having a one man drinking game with myself before finishing off with some colorful comments about my boss. After I finished up on embarrassing myself live on air, I heard, “Well, I’m sorry to hear you’ve hit a low point…But! Tonight, you can turn all that around by answering one simple question. What’s! That! Song!” The applause comes again, stronger this time as the host lays down the rules. “Now you only get one chance, so make it count. Don’t worry, though, because you do have a support line, so feel free to call on them if you need it. Be warned, though, you will not qualify for the prize if you do.” I thought that was a stupid idea. “Why would I use them then?” The host ignores my inquiry and moves swiftly onwards. “Are you ready? Because here it comes”.

The song begins to play, which I recognise instantly from last night. The name was escaping me in a drunken haze, then, through closing my eyes, pinching the brim of my nose, muttering “Come on, you know this” a few times to myself, the answer struck like a bolt of lightning. “Don’t go looking for my face!” I yell triumphantly to the sound of a cheering audience and the host, “Well done, listener! You nailed it, glad to know you’ve been paying attention. Now”. His voice takes a lower tone as he begins to talk about the prize. “Have you ever wanted something more than anything?” I nod drunkenly, even though I’m alone. “Well, now you can get it, listener. All you gotta do is make a wish”.

“Are you serious?” What a cop out, I thought to myself, “As a heart attack, sir!” His chipper tone had come back in full force. “Now what do you want more than anything?” I sat there for a few moments thinking about what I wanted most from this. If I were to treat this like blowing out birthday candles, I might as well go all in “You know what host?” I start to say while pacing around my living room, “All I want most in the world right now is for that fat prick of a boss of mine to take a short walk off the top floor of our office!” The host laughs loudly at the sound of this, like he can’t believe his ears. “You know I knew I liked you, listener. Now is that your wish? If it is, just say your name, your wish, and hang up. It’s that simple”. Barely conscious at this point, while now lying on the floor, I say.

“My name is Patrick, my wish is for my boss to dive off a building” with that I hang up, fall back while the host leaves me with his sign off “Well that sure was an exciting quiz, we’ll be back again tomorrow night so in the mean time, I hope you have a good rest of your night because sometimes it might just be your last, goodnight folks”.

The next morning, I found myself hungover in a puddle of my own drool, the sounds of the morning made themselves known slowly through my ringing head. The bird tweeting, cars driving by, and the three alarms that I missed were going off to alert me that I was at least an hour late for work. “Crap” I grumbled to myself, thinking that if I wasn’t going to quit today, they were definitely going to fire me. I dragged my hands over my eyes, walked over to the sink to splash some water on my face to wake myself up. Finally, while half dressed, I made my way out the door to quit my dead end job to move to another one.

Driving into work, I was still hungover, trying to think of the perfect last thing to say on my way out the door, then, as I pulled into the car park, I  immediately saw the ambulance out front and the police standing guard to stop anyone from getting too close to the scene. My heart dropped. People were all crowding around, desperately trying to see what was going on. I walked over before getting stopped by one of my more friendly coworkers, “Where were you this morning? Did you see what happened!?” I was in a state of shock, looking over at the crowd. “It’s a good thing you weren’t here, we don’t know what happened, he just…” Their voice trails off as they sneak another glance behind them. Putting my hand on their shoulder, excusing myself past them and through the crowd. The police yelled at me to get back, but I had to know. For a brief few moments, I saw him. What was left of him anyway.

Later, I was told that when the people working on the first floor and above looked out their window at the right time today, they would have caught a glimpse of a man in his early forties, zooming past for a split second before the sounds of bones crunching against pavement could be heard. Everyone in the building came rushing, screaming out the front doors to see what was left of my boss lying face first against the pavement, his legs twisted at an awful angle, with his right arm broken with bones poking out of the skin, as easily as a needle through fabric.

According to the people who stuck around to help while the ambulance came, they turned around in horror when the boss lifted his heavy blood spattered head off the ground, letting people see his eyes, which were turned upward as if he was in a trance. Then, with the last of his strength, he had used his only barely functioning left arm with broken, snapped fingers to pull himself back towards the building's entrance, towards the stairs, leaving a snail trail of crimson gore behind him. 

He died somewhere between the first and second floors after paramedics tried desperately to take him back to the ambulance. The sickening smell swam around us all in front of the building, a stench that was almost certainly going to cling to some of these people if not their clothes then their memories, for a long time to come. I didn’t know what else to do, so I just got in my car, taking the long way home.

Sitting in front of my TV later that evening, the story was, of course, in the news, and the people who were interviewed had said they saw him leaving his office before tragically taking his own life. He greeted people on the way out as if he was leaving early in the work day and not about to jump off a four storey building. I had my head in my hands while listening to their comments about what a nice guy he was, how he looked out for them in the worst times. I turned it off. I couldn’t bare it anymore. I messed up, I messed up bad. A man was killed because of me. I looked at the clock, only three more hours until midnight. I had to make it right.

I needed to take that quiz again. I had another wish to make.

I sat there patiently waiting in the dark, listening to nothing until eventually, shocking me out of my stillness all the things in my house that could produce a sound all yelled at once “Goood evening listeners welcome back to Midnight radio, tonight since our last broadcast was so successful we’ve decided to bring back the quiz for another night, if this keeps up we might have it as nightly part of our show! Now, how does that sound?” The applause started up, so he could pat himself on the back for coming up with this idea. 

The last couple of times of listening to Midnight radio, it felt great. There was something in the songs that got played that was just so enticing, drawing me in for the whole hour right up until the quiz. But tonight, after everything that happened, there was a sense of dread forming in my stomach, like I had swallowed a set of weights. After the next agonising forty five minutes, the host finally announced it, in a cool, even tone, “Well, everyone we’ve had a lot of fun the past few days and even granted a wish. Maybe, like me, you are all curious how our winner from last night is getting on. So why don’t we give him a call since I know he’s listening anyway. Isn’t that right, Patrick?” I froze. I had no idea what I was dealing with here. I felt like I was being toyed with, as if a shark was swimming around me, letting the moments of life linger a bit longer before sinking its teeth in.

“Patrick,” His voice came again, not a question this time. He knew I was here. Listening. “What are you?” I said aloud to an empty room. My phone rang in response. I lifted it slowly to my ear.

“Did you get what you wished for, Patrick?” From the way he said it, I could hear the grin on his face. “I want to take it back. Can I do that?” My voice was trembling whilst also doing its best to sound somewhat confident. Laughing he said, “Well, of course you can. You just have to play the game again. May I ask why? You seemed awfully set on this wish just last night.” Stuttering in my response, I explained how I had no idea this was all real. Also, saying that I may not have liked the guy, but he didn’t deserve that. “Well Patrick, I had hoped you were smarter than that. I can’t fault you for trying to set things right, though. In any case, are you ready to play What’s! That! Song!”. I agreed.

The song began to start playing for a little longer than before. I think he did this just to mock me. At the time, I thought it was to give me more of a chance, to pull the song name from the lyrics, looking back, he must’ve known I would never get it. I fell for the trap, so by the time I realised I was in one, it closed. I gave the wrong answer.

“Ooo sorry, there Patrick. That's not what we were looking for, it was, in fact, Big man, bigger falls. And with that-” I tried to cut him off pleading for another chance, but he continued “we’ve come to the end of our show tonight, listeners. Now, since Patrick here wasn’t up to the challenge, sadly, he won’t be back on again”. My guilt was overriding any pride I had. “Please, I’m begging, undo it! I’ll do anything!” The host stopped his sign off.

“Well, that's wonderful, because we’ve got just the thing for someone like you, Patrick. How would you like to join our support line to help other callers get their wish?” I didn’t hesitate. “Yes! What do I need to do?” Immediately after saying this, the line went dead.

“Hello?” The words crept out of my mouth as if terrified to be heard. *Ring ring* Came an old rotary phone from behind me on the kitchen counter, which I had never seen before. I picked it up. It was the host. “Hey there, Patrick, glad you’ve joined our support system, happy to have you on the team”. Cutting to the chase, I asked, “What do I need to do to undo my wish?” Hearing a slight uptick of laughter in his voice, he replied, “Slow your roll! You’ll get there. But first, you need to understand the rules of this”. Losing my patience, exclaiming “What rules! Surely it's not difficult?” “No, of course not, all you have to do is: Stay inside, Pick up when the phone rings, also listen to the show for a chance at winning. See? Simple”. I frowned at the rules being told, and before asking why I couldn't go outside, he urged me to go take a look behind my curtains.

Nothing. Pitch blackness was all I could see through my window, which usually showed the glowing orange street lights. My hands began to shake, my breathing became shallow as the voice of the host broke through, “Now you’re going to stay here for a while while you wait on a new caller to ask for your help. If they ask for your help and you win, you get to take their wish”. Turning around slowly as if this phone was a wild predator, all I could think to ask was if they would let me out as well. But he had already left to finish his outro. “Sorry about that, everyone. I was just getting our new support caller situated. Now that he’s all settled, we can end this properly. So until then, I hope you have a good rest of your night because sometimes it might just be your last, goodnight folks”.

That was one week ago.

The radio has been going constantly with more bands and songs that I’ve never heard of. Every night the show starts, a new contestant is called, then I pray they ask for a support line. But why would they? You don’t get a prize for that. That’s why I’m reaching out here. I’m begging you, if you hear the Midnight radio show and you get called, please ask for me. I’m running out of food, and I’m trying not to be tempted to find a way out through the darkness outside my home, but every day it becomes more difficult. I think I hear people out there sometimes. So please, one last time, I’m begging you.

Have you heard the Midnight radio show?    

I’m hoping someone can help me. I’m having trouble putting this all down, but hopefully you’ll understand why I need someone to call me as soon as possible. You see, it started about a week ago, just after finishing another late shift. I was planning on driving down my usual route back home, sadly, the whole road was closed due to road works. Which meant I had to take the longer country road back. After pulling my frustrated face off my steering wheel, thinking about the forty-five minutes of sleep I was actively losing, I turned around to drive through the quiet backroads.

While the streetlights faded behind me in the rearview, all I could do was curse under my breath about all the small inconveniences in my bubble that seemed to line up perfectly today. My crappy boss that saw me on the way out the door stopped me to ask, “Could you stay a little longer? We need to finish our presentation for the board. It'd mean the world to me.” While he put on his coat, patting me on the back before adding a “Thanks bud, you’re the best”.

I’d like to think this was an out-of-the-blue type of day, honestly this was becoming more typical with each passing week. I remember thinking about quitting, then running through the whole interview process again with other companies, along with all the other headaches that come with searching for a new job, so I quickly shut the idea down.

So, twenty minutes into my detour, as the clock struck midnight, the radio that was blaring to keep myself awake turned to static, eating away at my music until all that was left was a chipper voice breaking through to announce himself.

“Gooooood evening to all you lovely listeners, and welcome back to Midnight radio, it’s me, the host, back again to bring all the joy of a late night show”. 

“What the hell?” I muttered, thinking I'd probably picked up a signal from some independent station. This didn’t stop me from attempting to switch my own music back on before giving up a few attempts later. Rather than risk driving into the nearest tree, I kept “the host” on while I continued on my drive. As I approached my driveway, I found myself enjoying the show more. There was new music from bands like: Tall Man with the Backbone, Six Dollar Sunglasses, and Jim Jones retirement plan. 

It was almost one o'clock when the host came back on after Tall Man’s latest hit “Don’t go looking for my face” finished playing before closing out with “Well, listeners, we’ve come to the end. We’ll be back tomorrow night with a few new additions to our little radio show, so be sure to tune in. I hope you have a good rest of your night because sometimes it might just be your last, goodnight folks”. With that ominous last sentence, the strange broadcast ended, leaving me in the static, sitting idle in my driveway. Feeling a lot more relaxed, I sank into my bed, set my alarm for work, then let myself drift off.

The next day, I get into work a little later than I planned after sleeping in past my alarm. My boss decided to make a big joke with a fat grin on his face when I walked through the door, “Well, look who decided to show up! Maybe lay off the drinking on a work night, eh champ?” Fifteen minutes by the way. I was late by Fifteen god damn minutes after doing his overdue work, and I got a live at the Apollo stand up routine. I centred myself, letting all the awful things that I could do to him fade from my mind. My body's tense muscles loosen as I take a deep breath. “You’re right! Haha! Anyway, we’ve got that big presentation coming up, let's get in there!” Yeah, I hate myself too.

We walked in to see the heads of the other departments all gathered to hear our new finance plan to help turn this company around. I’m not gonna leave any details here because, well, I don’t want people to find out where I work, and second… This is all incredibly boring. The point is, I did all the work. 

So when this guy, at the beginning of this presentation that I worked on for weeks, decides he’s more “qualified” to present this to the others than I am, while introducing it like he did all the work to show off. I make a fuss, I stand up for myself, I tell him I’m the guy who did it, while all he did was sneak a greasy bag of food into his office to eat. (He thinks he’s slick, but we can hear him gorging inside that wet slop filled box of his). 

After getting some of this out of my system, letting the red mist leave my body, I realise I’m standing there with the other bosses of the company who are now convinced their fellow boss has brought a screaming mad man into the workplace. To top it all off, after I’m done mouthing off, all he does is put his sweaty palm on my shoulder, while saying, “Why don’t you go home for the day?”.

The expression on my face clearly didn’t help people's feelings towards me at that current moment, so without further comment, I slowly walked back out of the room, listening to his voice irritating me further about how “Sorry he is for my outburst” and to just move on with HIS presentation.

Grinding my teeth all the way home, walking through my door before flopping my entire body onto my couch. I decide then and there, after today's final straw, I will be quitting in the morning. Until that happens, I’m gonna drown myself in my feelings. Grabbing the remote, I stick on a movie I’ve seen a hundred times over while trying to imagine what it would be like if I never had to work ever again.

A few hours passed by before my phone started pinging with notifications from the work group chat. For the first couple of pings, I ignored them, but when they piled up to the point where I thought my phone was going to explode, I relented, picked up my phone to see our whole office going out after work to a bar with pictures of what looked like the best night of this year.

People were ecstatic because our boss did a stellar performance, so much so that they all got together and organised an impromptu party to celebrate. Looking up from my phone, eyeing the bottle of Jack that had been waiting for me ever since I walked through the door. I give up. “Well, I might as well play the part of the office drunk”. After an hour and half a bottle later, I was three sheets to the wind. If you had walked past my house to listen, you’d think you’d have heard a great get together happening. 

It was right in the middle of not my most beautiful moment when the speakers I set up to play bad music from the early 2000’s crackled, popped and screeched static, then swiftly turned into the late night greeting from the host. “Goood evening listeners, welcome back to Midnight radio,  tonight we’ve got a few more new bands lined up for the next hour, there will also be a little treat for some of our newer listeners at the end of the hour, so stay with us while we get settled in to the sound of Motorbike Cascade by the Shredders”. I jumped out of my seat at the sound of his announcement. I went over to my speakers while checking my phone for any changes. Nothing had changed on my phone, it was still showing that my playlist was still connected to the speakers.

I stood there scratching my head, wondering how the hell this radio station began blaring through. But as I said, I was completely drunk at the time and couldn’t be bothered to fix the issue. Instead, I decided to sit down to enjoy the next hour or so before resigning myself to pass out on my couch.

What followed was music that topped last night's selection by a mile, for the strange names that they were given, I wrote them off as some new indie bands just pushing their stuff out there. More bands came and went with peculiar names until the last five minutes of the show, when everything came to a dead stop.

Silence. For about thirty seconds, there was nothing, to the point where I got up to check if my speakers had just given up. As I reached out to turn them on and off again, the host came back in a flash with more of an upbeat tone than before. “Well, folks, we’re coming up to that special surprise we’ve been cooking up. Tonight we will be calling one listener to play, What’s that song!” A crowd can be heard applauding in the background from one of his sound effects. “We here at Midnight radio wanted to thank you for the new listeners for tuning in, you’re making dreams of ours come true, so let's call a lucky listener now!” My phone buzzes in my hand.

I look down to see no number displayed on my phone, only a big green button is shown. Without much of a second thought, I drunkenly thumb the button, swing the phone up to my ear while slurring a big “Yelllllow!” The host's voice bursted out of my phone with the same enthusiasm, “Hello there! Congrats on being called in for our one question quiz! How are you feeling today?”.

I wasn’t sure how many people might have been listening to this broadcast at the time, although I don’t think knowing would’ve stopped me from blurting out details about why I was having a one man drinking game with myself before finishing off with some colourful comments about my boss. After I finished up on embarrassing myself live on air, I heard, “Well, I’m sorry to hear you’ve hit a low point…But! Tonight, you can turn all that around by answering one simple question. What’s! That! Song!” The applause comes again, stronger this time as the host lays down the rules. “Now you only get one chance, so make it count. Don’t worry, though, because you do have a support line, so feel free to call on them if you need it. Be warned, though, you will not qualify for the prize if you do.” I thought that was a stupid idea. “Why would I use them then?” The host ignores my inquiry and moves swiftly onwards. “Are you ready? Because here it comes”.

The song begins to play, which I recognise instantly from last night. The name was escaping me in a drunken haze, then, through closing my eyes, pinching the brim of my nose, muttering “Come on, you know this” a few times to myself, the answer struck like a bolt of lightning. “Don’t go looking for my face!” I yell triumphantly to the sound of a cheering audience and the host, “Well done, listener! You nailed it, glad to know you’ve been paying attention. Now”. His voice takes a lower tone as he begins to talk about the prize. “Have you ever wanted something more than anything?” I nod drunkenly, even though I’m alone. “Well, now you can get it, listener. All you gotta do is make a wish”.

“Are you serious?” What a cop out, I thought to myself, “As a heart attack, sir!” His chipper tone had come back in full force. “Now what do you want more than anything?” I sat there for a few moments thinking about what I wanted most from this. If I were to treat this like blowing out birthday candles, I might as well go all in “You know what host?” I start to say while pacing around my living room, “All I want most in the world right now is for that fat prick of a boss of mine to take a short walk off the top floor of our office!” The host laughs loudly at the sound of this, like he can’t believe his ears. “You know I knew I liked you, listener. Now is that your wish? If it is, just say your name, your wish, and hang up. It’s that simple”. Barely conscious at this point, while now lying on the floor, I say.

“My name is Patrick, my wish is for my boss to dive off a building” with that I hang up, fall back while the host leaves me with his sign off “Well that sure was an exciting quiz, we’ll be back again tomorrow night so in the mean time, I hope you have a good rest of your night because sometimes it might just be your last, goodnight folks”.

The next morning, I found myself hungover in a puddle of my own drool, the sounds of the morning made themselves known slowly through my ringing head. The bird tweeting, cars driving by, and the three alarms that I missed were going off to alert me that I was at least an hour late for work. “Crap” I grumbled to myself, thinking that if I wasn’t going to quit today, they were definitely going to fire me. I dragged my hands over my eyes, walked over to the sink to splash some water on my face to wake myself up. Finally, while half dressed, I made my way out the door to quit my dead end job to move to another one.

Driving into work, I was still hungover, trying to think of the perfect last thing to say on my way out the door, then, as I pulled into the car park, I  immediately saw the ambulance out front and the police standing guard to stop anyone from getting too close to the scene. My heart dropped. People were all crowding around, desperately trying to see what was going on. I walked over before getting stopped by one of my more friendly co-workers, “Where were you this morning? Did you see what happened!?” I was in a state of shock, looking over at the crowd. “It’s a good thing you weren’t here, we don’t know what happened, he just…” Their voice trails off as they sneak another glance behind them. Putting my hand on their shoulder, excusing myself past them and through the crowd. The police yelled at me to get back, but I had to know. For a brief few moments, I saw him. What was left of him anyway.

Later, I was told that when the people working on the first floor and above looked out their window at the right time today, they would have caught a glimpse of a man in his early forties, zooming past for a split second before the sounds of bones crunching against pavement could be heard. Everyone in the building came rushing, screaming out the front doors to see what was left of my boss lying face first against the pavement, his legs twisted at an awful angle, with his right arm broken with bones poking out of the skin, as easily as a needle through fabric.

According to the people who stuck around to help while the ambulance came, they turned around in horror when the boss lifted his heavy blood spattered head off the ground, letting people see his eyes, which were turned upward as if he was in a trance. Then, with the last of his strength, he had used his only barely functioning left arm with broken, snapped fingers to pull himself back towards the building's entrance, towards the stairs, leaving a snail trail of crimson gore behind him. 

He died somewhere between the first and second floors after paramedics tried desperately to take him back to the ambulance. The sickening smell swam around us all in front of the building, a stench that was almost certainly going to cling to some of these people if not their clothes then their memories, for a long time to come. I didn’t know what else to do, so I just got in my car, taking the long way home.

Sitting in front of my TV later that evening, the story was, of course, in the news, and the people who were interviewed had said they saw him leaving his office before tragically taking his own life. He greeted people on the way out as if he was leaving early in the work day and not about to jump off a four storey building. I had my head in my hands while listening to their comments about what a nice guy he was, how he looked out for them in the worst times. I turned it off. I couldn’t bare it anymore. I messed up, I messed up bad. A man was killed because of me. I looked at the clock, only three more hours until midnight. I had to make it right.

I needed to take that quiz again. I had another wish to make.

I sat there patiently waiting in the dark, listening to nothing until eventually, shocking me out of my stillness all the things in my house that could produce a sound all yelled at once “Goood evening listeners welcome back to Midnight radio, tonight since our last broadcast was so successful we’ve decided to bring back the quiz for another night, if this keeps up we might have it as nightly part of our show! Now, how does that sound?” The applause started up, so he could pat himself on the back for coming up with this idea. 

The last couple of times of listening to Midnight radio, it felt great. There was something in the songs that got played that was just so enticing, drawing me in for the whole hour right up until the quiz. But tonight, after everything that happened, there was a sense of dread forming in my stomach, like I had swallowed a set of weights. After the next agonising forty five minutes, the host finally announced it, in a cool, even tone, “Well, everyone we’ve had a lot of fun the past few days and even granted a wish. Maybe, like me, you are all curious how our winner from last night is getting on. So why don’t we give him a call since I know he’s listening anyway. Isn’t that right, Patrick?” I froze. I had no idea what I was dealing with here. I felt like I was being toyed with, as if a shark was swimming around me, letting the moments of life linger a bit longer before sinking its teeth in.

“Patrick,” His voice came again, not a question this time. He knew I was here. Listening. “What are you?” I said aloud to an empty room. My phone rang in response. I lifted it slowly to my ear.

“Did you get what you wished for, Patrick?” From the way he said it, I could hear the grin on his face. “I want to take it back. Can I do that?” My voice was trembling whilst also doing its best to sound somewhat confident. Laughing he said, “Well, of course you can. You just have to play the game again. May I ask why? You seemed awfully set on this wish just last night.” Stuttering in my response, I explained how I had no idea this was all real. Also, saying that I may not have liked the guy, but he didn’t deserve that. “Well Patrick, I had hoped you were smarter than that. I can’t fault you for trying to set things right, though. In any case, are you ready to play What’s! That! Song!”. I agreed.

The song began to start playing for a little longer than before. I think he did this just to mock me. At the time, I thought it was to give me more of a chance, to pull the song name from the lyrics, looking back, he must’ve known I would never get it. I fell for the trap, so by the time I realised I was in one, it closed. I gave the wrong answer.

“Ooo sorry, there Patrick. That's not what we were looking for, it was, in fact, Big man, bigger falls. And with that-” I tried to cut him off pleading for another chance, but he continued “we’ve come to the end of our show tonight, listeners. Now, since Patrick here wasn’t up to the challenge, sadly, he won’t be back on again”. My guilt was overriding any pride I had. “Please, I’m begging, undo it! I’ll do anything!” The host stopped his sign off.

“Well, that's wonderful, because we’ve got just the thing for someone like you, Patrick. How would you like to join our support line to help other callers get their wish?” I didn’t hesitate. “Yes! What do I need to do?” Immediately after saying this, the line went dead.

“Hello?” The words crept out of my mouth as if terrified to be heard. *Ring ring* Came an old rotary phone from behind me on the kitchen counter, which I had never seen before. I picked it up. It was the host. “Hey there, Patrick, glad you’ve joined our support system, happy to have you on the team”. Cutting to the chase, I asked, “What do I need to do to undo my wish?” Hearing a slight uptick of laughter in his voice, he replied, “Slow your roll! You’ll get there. But first, you need to understand the rules of this”. Losing my patience, exclaiming “What rules! Surely it's not difficult?” “No, of course not, all you have to do is: Stay inside, Pick up when the phone rings, also listen to the show for a chance at winning. See? Simple”. I frowned at the rules being told, and before asking why I couldn't go outside, he urged me to go take a look behind my curtains.

Nothing. Pitch blackness was all I could see through my window, which usually showed the glowing orange street lights. My hands began to shake, my breathing became shallow as the voice of the host broke through, “Now you’re going to stay here for a while while you wait on a new caller to ask for your help. If they ask for your help and you win, you get to take their wish”. Turning around slowly as if this phone was a wild predator, all I could think to ask was if they would let me out as well. But he had already left to finish his outro. “Sorry about that, everyone. I was just getting our new support caller situated. Now that he’s all settled, we can end this properly. So until then, I hope you have a good rest of your night because sometimes it might just be your last, goodnight folks”.

That was one week ago.

The radio has been going constantly with more bands and songs that I’ve never heard of. Every night the show starts, a new contestant is called, then I pray they ask for a support line. But why would they? You don’t get a prize for that. That’s why I’m reaching out here. I’m begging you, if you hear the Midnight radio show and you get called, please ask for me. I’m running out of food, and I’m trying not to be tempted to find a way out through the darkness outside my home, but every day it becomes more difficult. I think I hear people out there sometimes. So please, one last time, I’m begging you.

Have you heard the Midnight radio show?    

I’m hoping someone can help me. I’m having trouble putting this all down, but hopefully you’ll understand why I need someone to call me as soon as possible. You see, it started about a week ago, just after finishing another late shift. I was planning on driving down my usual route back home, sadly, the whole road was closed due to road works. Which meant I had to take the longer country road back. After pulling my frustrated face off my steering wheel, thinking about the forty-five minutes of sleep I was actively losing, I turned around to drive through the quiet backroads.

While the streetlights faded behind me in the rear view, all I could do was curse under my breath about all the small inconveniences in my bubble that seemed to line up perfectly today. My crappy boss that saw me on the way out the door stopped me to ask, “Could you stay a little longer? We need to finish our presentation for the board. It'd mean the world to me.” While he put on his coat, patting me on the back before adding a “Thanks bud, you’re the best”.

I’d like to think this was an out-of-the-blue type of day, honestly this was becoming more typical with each passing week. I remember thinking about quitting, then running through the whole interview process again with other companies, along with all the other headaches that come with searching for a new job, so I quickly shut the idea down.

So, twenty minutes into my detour, as the clock struck midnight, the radio that was blaring to keep myself awake turned to static, eating away at my music until all that was left was a chipper voice breaking through to announce himself.

“Gooooood evening to all you lovely listeners, and welcome back to Midnight radio, it’s me, the host, back again to bring all the joy of a late night show”. 

“What the hell?” I muttered, thinking I'd probably picked up a signal from some independent station. This didn’t stop me from attempting to switch my own music back on before giving up a few attempts later. Rather than risk driving into the nearest tree, I kept “the host” on while I continued on my drive. As I approached my driveway, I found myself enjoying the show more. There was new music from bands like: Tall Man with the Backbone, Six Dollar Sunglasses, and Jim Jones retirement plan. 

It was almost one o'clock when the host came back on after Tall Man’s latest hit “Don’t go looking for my face” finished playing before closing out with “Well, listeners, we’ve come to the end. We’ll be back tomorrow night with a few new additions to our little radio show, so be sure to tune in. I hope you have a good rest of your night because sometimes it might just be your last, goodnight folks”. With that ominous last sentence, the strange broadcast ended, leaving me in the static, sitting idle in my driveway. Feeling a lot more relaxed, I sank into my bed, set my alarm for work, then let myself drift off.

The next day, I get into work a little later than I planned after sleeping in past my alarm. My boss decided to make a big joke with a fat grin on his face when I walked through the door, “Well, look who decided to show up! Maybe lay off the drinking on a work night, eh champ?” Fifteen minutes by the way. I was late by Fifteen god damn minutes after doing his overdue work, and I got a live at the Apollo stand up routine. I centred myself, letting all the awful things that I could do to him fade from my mind. My body's tense muscles loosen as I take a deep breath. “You’re right! Haha! Anyway, we’ve got that big presentation coming up, let's get in there!” Yeah, I hate myself too.

We walked in to see the heads of the other departments all gathered to hear our new finance plan to help turn this company around. I’m not gonna leave any details here because, well, I don’t want people to find out where I work, and second… This is all incredibly boring. The point is, I did all the work. 

So when this guy, at the beginning of this presentation that I worked on for weeks, decides he’s more “qualified” to present this to the others than I am, while introducing it like he did all the work to show off. I make a fuss, I stand up for myself, I tell him I’m the guy who did it, while all he did was sneak a greasy bag of food into his office to eat. (He thinks he’s slick, but we can hear him gorging inside that wet slop filled box of his). 

After getting some of this out of my system, letting the red mist leave my body, I realise I’m standing there with the other bosses of the company who are now convinced their fellow boss has brought a screaming mad man into the workplace. To top it all off, after I’m done mouthing off, all he does is put his sweaty palm on my shoulder, while saying, “Why don’t you go home for the day?”.

The expression on my face clearly didn’t help people's feelings towards me at that current moment, so without further comment, I slowly walked back out of the room, listening to his voice irritating me further about how “Sorry he is for my outburst” and to just move on with HIS presentation.

Grinding my teeth all the way home, walking through my door before flopping my entire body onto my couch. I decide then and there, after today's final straw, I will be quitting in the morning. Until that happens, I’m gonna drown myself in my feelings. Grabbing the remote, I stick on a movie I’ve seen a hundred times over while trying to imagine what it would be like if I never had to work ever again.

A few hours passed by before my phone started pinging with notifications from the work group chat. For the first couple of pings, I ignored them, but when they piled up to the point where I thought my phone was going to explode, I relented, picked up my phone to see our whole office going out after work to a bar with pictures of what looked like the best night of this year.

People were ecstatic because our boss did a stellar performance, so much so that they all got together and organised an impromptu party to celebrate. Looking up from my phone, eyeing the bottle of Jack that had been waiting for me ever since I walked through the door. I give up. “Well, I might as well play the part of the office drunk”. After an hour and half a bottle later, I was three sheets to the wind. If you had walked past my house to listen, you’d think you’d have heard a great get together happening. 

It was right in the middle of not my most beautiful moment when the speakers I set up to play bad music from the early 2000’s crackled, popped and screeched static, then swiftly turned into the late night greeting from the host. “Goood evening listeners, welcome back to Midnight radio,  tonight we’ve got a few more new bands lined up for the next hour, there will also be a little treat for some of our newer listeners at the end of the hour, so stay with us while we get settled in to the sound of Motorbike Cascade by the Shredders”. I jumped out of my seat at the sound of his announcement. I went over to my speakers while checking my phone for any changes. Nothing had changed on my phone, it was still showing that my playlist was still connected to the speakers.

I stood there scratching my head, wondering how the hell this radio station began blaring through. But as I said, I was completely drunk at the time and couldn’t be bothered to fix the issue. Instead, I decided to sit down to enjoy the next hour or so before resigning myself to pass out on my couch.

What followed was music that topped last night's selection by a mile, for the strange names that they were given, I wrote them off as some new indie bands just pushing their stuff out there. More bands came and went with peculiar names until the last five minutes of the show, when everything came to a dead stop.

Silence. For about thirty seconds, there was nothing, to the point where I got up to check if my speakers had just given up. As I reached out to turn them on and off again, the host came back in a flash with more of an upbeat tone than before. “Well, folks, we’re coming up to that special surprise we’ve been cooking up. Tonight we will be calling one listener to play, What’s that song!” A crowd can be heard applauding in the background from one of his sound effects. “We here at Midnight radio wanted to thank you for the new listeners for tuning in, you’re making dreams of ours come true, so let's call a lucky listener now!” My phone buzzes in my hand.

I look down to see no number displayed on my phone, only a big green button is shown. Without much of a second thought, I drunkenly thumb the button, swing the phone up to my ear while slurring a big “Yelllllow!” The host's voice busted out of my phone with the same enthusiasm, “Hello there! Congrats on being called in for our one question quiz! How are you feeling today?”.

I wasn’t sure how many people might have been listening to this broadcast at the time, although I don’t think knowing would’ve stopped me from blurting out details about why I was having a one man drinking game with myself before finishing off with some colourful comments about my boss. After I finished up on embarrassing myself live on air, I heard, “Well, I’m sorry to hear you’ve hit a low point…But! Tonight, you can turn all that around by answering one simple question. What’s! That! Song!” The applause comes again, stronger this time as the host lays down the rules. “Now you only get one chance, so make it count. Don’t worry, though, because you do have a support line, so feel free to call on them if you need it. Be warned, though, you will not qualify for the prize if you do.” I thought that was a stupid idea. “Why would I use them then?” The host ignores my inquiry and moves swiftly onwards. “Are you ready? Because here it comes”.

The song begins to play, which I recognise instantly from last night. The name was escaping me in a drunken haze, then, through closing my eyes, pinching the brim of my nose, muttering “Come on, you know this” a few times to myself, the answer struck like a bolt of lightning. “Don’t go looking for my face!” I yell triumphantly to the sound of a cheering audience and the host, “Well done, listener! You nailed it, glad to know you’ve been paying attention. Now”. His voice takes a lower tone as he begins to talk about the prize. “Have you ever wanted something more than anything?” I nod drunkenly, even though I’m alone. “Well, now you can get it, listener. All you gotta do is make a wish”.

“Are you serious?” What a cop out, I thought to myself, “As a heart attack, sir!” His chipper tone had come back in full force. “Now what do you want more than anything?” I sat there for a few moments thinking about what I wanted most from this. If I were to treat this like blowing out birthday candles, I might as well go all in “You know what host?” I start to say while pacing around my living room, “All I want most in the world right now is for that fat prick of a boss of mine to take a short walk off the top floor of our office!” The host laughs loudly at the sound of this, like he can’t believe his ears. “You know I knew I liked you, listener. Now is that your wish? If it is, just say your name, your wish, and hang up. It’s that simple”. Barely conscious at this point, while now lying on the floor, I say.

“My name is Patrick, my wish is for my boss to dive off a building” with that I hang up, fall back while the host leaves me with his sign off “Well that sure was an exciting quiz, we’ll be back again tomorrow night so in the mean time, I hope you have a good rest of your night because sometimes it might just be your last, goodnight folks”.

The next morning, I found myself hungover in a puddle of my own drool, the sounds of the morning made themselves known slowly through my ringing head. The bird tweeting, cars driving by, and the three alarms that I missed were going off to alert me that I was at least an hour late for work. “Crap” I grumbled to myself, thinking that if I wasn’t going to quit today, they were definitely going to fire me. I dragged my hands over my eyes, walked over to the sink to splash some water on my face to wake myself up. Finally, while half dressed, I made my way out the door to quit my dead end job to move to another one.

Driving into work, I was still hungover, trying to think of the perfect last thing to say on my way out the door, then, as I pulled into the car park, I  immediately saw the ambulance out front and the police standing guard to stop anyone from getting too close to the scene. My heart dropped. People were all crowding around, desperately trying to see what was going on. I walked over before getting stopped by one of my more friendly co-workers, “Where were you this morning? Did you see what happened!?” I was in a state of shock, looking over at the crowd. “It’s a good thing you weren’t here, we don’t know what happened, he just…” Their voice trails off as they sneak another glance behind them. Putting my hand on their shoulder, excusing myself past them and through the crowd. The police yelled at me to get back, but I had to know. For a brief few moments, I saw him. What was left of him anyway.

Later, I was told that when the people working on the first floor and above looked out their window at the right time today, they would have caught a glimpse of a man in his early forties, zooming past for a split second before the sounds of bones crunching against pavement could be heard. Everyone in the building came rushing, screaming out the front doors to see what was left of my boss lying face first against the pavement, his legs twisted at an awful angle, with his right arm broken with bones poking out of the skin, as easily as a needle through fabric.

According to the people who stuck around to help while the ambulance came, they turned around in horror when the boss lifted his heavy blood spattered head off the ground, letting people see his eyes, which were turned upward as if he was in a trance. Then, with the last of his strength, he had used his only barely functioning left arm with broken, snapped fingers to pull himself back towards the building's entrance, towards the stairs, leaving a snail trail of crimson gore behind him. 

He died somewhere between the first and second floors after paramedics tried desperately to take him back to the ambulance. The sickening smell swam around us all in front of the building, a stench that was almost certainly going to cling to some of these people if not their clothes then their memories, for a long time to come. I didn’t know what else to do, so I just got in my car, taking the long way home.

Sitting in front of my TV later that evening, the story was, of course, in the news, and the people who were interviewed had said they saw him leaving his office before tragically taking his own life. He greeted people on the way out as if he was leaving early in the work day and not about to jump off a four storey building. I had my head in my hands while listening to their comments about what a nice guy he was, how he looked out for them in the worst times. I turned it off. I couldn’t bare it anymore. I messed up, I messed up bad. A man was killed because of me. I looked at the clock, only three more hours until midnight. I had to make it right.

I needed to take that quiz again. I had another wish to make.

I sat there patiently waiting in the dark, listening to nothing until eventually, shocking me out of my stillness all the things in my house that could produce a sound all yelled at once “Goood evening listeners welcome back to Midnight radio, tonight since our last broadcast was so successful we’ve decided to bring back the quiz for another night, if this keeps up we might have it as nightly part of our show! Now, how does that sound?” The applause started up, so he could pat himself on the back for coming up with this idea. 

The last couple of times of listening to Midnight radio, it felt great. There was something in the songs that got played that was just so enticing, drawing me in for the whole hour right up until the quiz. But tonight, after everything that happened, there was a sense of dread forming in my stomach, like I had swallowed a set of weights. After the next agonising forty five minutes, the host finally announced it, in a cool, even tone, “Well, everyone we’ve had a lot of fun the past few days and even granted a wish. Maybe, like me, you are all curious how our winner from last night is getting on. So why don’t we give him a call since I know he’s listening anyway. Isn’t that right, Patrick?” I froze. I had no idea what I was dealing with here. I felt like I was being toyed with, as if a shark was swimming around me, letting the moments of life linger a bit longer before sinking its teeth in.

“Patrick,” His voice came again, not a question this time. He knew I was here. Listening. “What are you?” I said aloud to an empty room. My phone rang in response. I lifted it slowly to my ear.

“Did you get what you wished for, Patrick?” From the way he said it, I could hear the grin on his face. “I want to take it back. Can I do that?” My voice was trembling whilst also doing its best to sound somewhat confident. Laughing he said, “Well, of course you can. You just have to play the game again. May I ask why? You seemed awfully set on this wish just last night.” Stuttering in my response, I explained how I had no idea this was all real. Also, saying that I may not have liked the guy, but he didn’t deserve that. “Well Patrick, I had hoped you were smarter than that. I can’t fault you for trying to set things right, though. In any case, are you ready to play What’s! That! Song!”. I agreed.

The song began to start playing for a little longer than before. I think he did this just to mock me. At the time, I thought it was to give me more of a chance, to pull the song name from the lyrics, looking back, he must’ve known I would never get it. I fell for the trap, so by the time I realised I was in one, it closed. I gave the wrong answer.

“Ooo sorry, there Patrick. That's not what we were looking for, it was, in fact, Big man, bigger falls. And with that-” I tried to cut him off pleading for another chance, but he continued “we’ve come to the end of our show tonight, listeners. Now, since Patrick here wasn’t up to the challenge, sadly, he won’t be back on again”. My guilt was overriding any pride I had. “Please, I’m begging, undo it! I’ll do anything!” The host stopped his sign off.

“Well, that's wonderful, because we’ve got just the thing for someone like you, Patrick. How would you like to join our support line to help other callers get their wish?” I didn’t hesitate. “Yes! What do I need to do?” Immediately after saying this, the line went dead.

“Hello?” The words crept out of my mouth as if terrified to be heard. *Ring ring* Came an old rotary phone from behind me on the kitchen counter, which I had never seen before. I picked it up. It was the host. “Hey there, Patrick, glad you’ve joined our support system, happy to have you on the team”. Cutting to the chase, I asked, “What do I need to do to undo my wish?” Hearing a slight uptick of laughter in his voice, he replied, “Slow your roll! You’ll get there. But first, you need to understand the rules of this”. Losing my patience, exclaiming “What rules! Surely it's not difficult?” “No, of course not, all you have to do is: Stay inside, Pick up when the phone rings, also listen to the show for a chance at winning. See? Simple”. I frowned at the rules being told, and before asking why I couldn't go outside, he urged me to go take a look behind my curtains.

Nothing. Pitch blackness was all I could see through my window, which usually showed the glowing orange street lights. My hands began to shake, my breathing became shallow as the voice of the host broke through, “Now you’re going to stay here for a while while you wait on a new caller to ask for your help. If they ask for your help and you win, you get to take their wish”. Turning around slowly as if this phone was a wild predator, all I could think to ask was if they would let me out as well. But he had already left to finish his outro. “Sorry about that, everyone. I was just getting our new support caller situated. Now that he’s all settled, we can end this properly. So until then, I hope you have a good rest of your night because sometimes it might just be your last, goodnight folks”.

That was one week ago.

The radio has been going constantly with more bands and songs that I’ve never heard of. Every night the show starts, a new contestant is called, then I pray they ask for a support line. But why would they? You don’t get a prize for that. That’s why I’m reaching out here. I’m begging you, if you hear the Midnight radio show and you get called, please ask for me. I’m running out of food, and I’m trying not to be tempted to find a way out through the darkness outside my home, but every day it becomes more difficult. I think I hear people out there sometimes. So please, one last time, I’m begging you.

Have you heard the Midnight radio show?    

There’s a man in my attic

I heard the creaking not too long ago, it was so subtle I almost made myself think I didn’t hear it at all, one of those noises that you just write off as “just the house settling” but the more you sit there, your mind begins to turn that lingering thought into a blister that you just can’t stop itching and scratching at. You start thinking of all the different horrors that could be going on just above your head. So to set myself at ease I calmly walked up the stairs out of the dark and made my way to the attic.

Knowing my way around this house so well I didn’t even need to turn on the lights, graciously moving and slithering around furniture with ease so as to not alert any potential unexpected guests.

I started reaching up to pull down on the steps, then pushing the small door open slowly doing my best to not add to the “house settling noises", then peered through the small gap gazing into the inky black of the attic. I stayed there for a while. Breathing slowly in and out to calm my head, not letting my emotions get the better of me.

Looking around the only thing of note that I was able to make out was the window allowing the glow of the moon to light up just a small section of what appeared to be a cavernous attic, that’s when I saw a tall bulky shadow saunter past the window.

He stroad with confidence letting his boots press into the old wooden floor boards, making me cringe with how deliberate he seemed to be in making as much noise as possible. It’s like he wanted people to know he was there.

My heart was beginning to pound now that I could see his large boots were now facing my direction, my eyes looked slowly up towards him. He stood there with the glow of the moon beside him, illuminating one side of his face. I realised too late that he had been staring down at me for the last few seconds. His one visible eye cast a look of confusion and horror down at my face poking through the darkness through the tiny slit in the floor.

Closing the door quickly then hurrying back down the steps retreating to the safety of the hallway underneath.

My heart was racing after this. The moment replayed in my head, the look on his face. The look on mine.

The fear.

The excitement.

He must have noticed them leaving earlier today.

This is perfect.

Must be looking for a place to stay. Poor thing.

He thinks that he could just wander without a care around this house, I’ve worked hard you know. To keep it like this. Quiet. But when someone comes along and disrupts the system, everything falls out of place, people get anxious, they go looking in places they wouldn’t normally, they find me.

I’m writing this now as he crawls down the stairs tiptoeing with all the grace of a ballerina with two left feet. I’ll let him carry on for a while longer. I can’t help but giggle when I was in front of his face without him knowing when he came down here.

I watch him desperately flick the lights to no avail, while hearing his false bravado about how he’ll find me and kill me before that tone in his voice gives way and just makes him sound like a child yelling at the monsters under his bed hoping his mother will come save him.

His threats turned to pleas in an instant, he was begging to be let out.

“I can’t see! Please, I'm sorry!”

I pull a piece of wood out the way of a tiny window near the ceiling of the basement letting more moonlight spill in and reveal the fuse box.

The fuse box is on the other side of the room where I’m sitting. So now all I have to do is.

Wait.