If you are reading this it probably means I am dead.
My name is Owen Witheral and I am a paediatric doctor at Saint Swithuns Hospital. Two weeks ago it was my birthday, my thirtieth, and the day following that I found out my partner of five years had been cheating on me for at least 3 of them. My friends wanted to throw me a combined Birthday and good riddance party, but I protested and said I’d rather stick with my own plans - the plans I had before I was single. God, how I wish I’d just let them throw me that stupid party now.
The Saturday after my Birthday I finished up my shift, said goodbye to my colleagues and turned on the out of office on my work emails. I was heading off for a three day break that is almost unheard of to anyone in the medical field. Before the breakup my partner and I had planned a three day hiking getaway to finally experience the breathtaking beauty of the North Clandean Hills and Forests. I’m stubborn, and a bit of a Penny pincher, so going alone beat the idea of cancelling and losing deposits or admitting defeat to any of our friends who might still be talking to my ex. So, I finished up with work, sprinted to the staff Carpark before I could be stopped by any junior doctors, nurses or patients, and I started my car. Sure, I was alone, but this was going to be a challenge that I’d remember for the rest of my life. That was the plan, at least.
On arriving to the main Carpark at North Clandean Hills, the one with the visitors centre and old cafe, I was surprised that nothing was open. It was a normal Saturday, the sun was shining, and there was no storm or risky weather expected, but for some reason doors were bolted shut, lights were turned off and there was no sign of another living soul around. I tried to shrug this off, making a mental note at least that there were a couple other cars parked up - they were old and coated with dit, making the fresh washed shine of my Merc make it look even more out of place. I swung the big hiking backpack, that somehow contained everything I’d need for the next three days, onto my back and tried to avoid the voice in the back of my head telling me that I was too much of a city slicker to even be able to do this for one night, let alone three.
I hiked for hours. I didn’t entirely know where I was heading, but I was following the Orange Path if that helps. On the map at the visitor centre it said that that route lead to the best views of sunsets and sunrises, as well as the biggest camping site. Not that I ever made it to any of that.
It got dark quicker than I thought and when my AirPods warned me they only had 20% battery left I slid them out, back into their case and into the safety of my pocket. That was when I heard it for the first time. Footsteps, breaking twigs and rustling leaves, in time with my own and heart stopping lay close behind me. Usually I’m pretty grounded and reasonable but this freaked me, so I span in my heels without even a second thought at what I might become face to face with. But, there was no one there. I stood, silent and still. Waiting for another sound. Just daring whatever it was to cave and trot back off away from me. But there was still nothing. I stared, glancing at every tree or shrub surrounding the path, terrified I might spot a limp or head peeking out from behind one of them. But nope, nothing. But that was it, there was literally nothing. No wind, no traffic, no birds or animals, not even the sound of any insects buzzing. I stared up at the tops of the trees, totally static hundreds of feet above, and like the earth, they weren’t making a sound at all. I told myself it was just calm. Just crazily, eerily, unnaturally calm, and I turned to continue on the path. But it was only a matter of steps before I heard it again. Step by step, seconds after my own. One two. One two. There was something right behind me. I tried to shake it off, upping my pace in the incline, attempting to convince myself I’d make it to the campground soon and that just seeing someone else would make me feel better. Maybe I’d even start enjoying myself again. But the footsteps, they continued to keep time with mine no matter how quickly I walked.
I wasn’t going to turn around, I was determined not to, right up until I heard the breath. It was light and wispy, but also totally unmistakable and directly behind my right ear. I stopped in an instant. Spinning again, this time with my fists up in front of me, ready to swing at whoever, or whatever was there, literally breathing down my neck.
Again, there was nothing. It was getting darker and the tree trunks and shrubs were becoming harder to make out around the pathway, even with the glare of my headlamp shining across them.
I panned my vision back and forth. Back and forth. Suddenly stirring with the beam of light centred on one single tree not even five feet away from me. My breathing quickened and my hear raced. I was sure I’d just seen something duck around it. And then, staring intently I watched as five long gnarled fingers emerged around the trunk, gripping the bark tightly.