I’m gonna get straight to the point here. A few friends and I decided to go explore the forest that neighbors our town, just for the hell of it.
We walked for quite some time before coming across the ruins of what I guess used to be a building of some sort. There wasn’t anything too noteworthy about the place. Everything was burned and so old that nothing was recognisable. We hung around for a bit before deciding to keep going.
Maybe half an hour later we came across a pretty disturbing scene.
Suicide. The corpse had been hanging there for who knows how long. It had obviously been a really long time though. The skeleton’s limbs had fallen apart, or maybe been torn apart by animals. The ground below was scattered with bones.
Below the skeleton a few yards away lay a small journal, beaten up pretty good. It was pretty old, but we could still make out the writing. We took the journal along with a few pictures of the scene, and headed back to town to inform the local police department (We didn’t have service out there)
Before turning in the journal I decided to read through the whole thing and… what the hell happened here? Anyway, I’ve since turned the journal into the PD, and I assume they worked out the case/are still working on it. They didn’t really tell us much.
Written below is the full journal. It took a while to copy over digitally, but I think it was worth it. It seems the person who wrote it went back and scratched out a few specific things for whatever reason. Probably because they were mental. When you see “xxxx”, that’s why. It’s a fairly long read, but here you go.
“Journal entry no. 01, 12/14/xxxx I started treatment a couple days ago here at xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx, and I feel great. My energy is back to normal now that I’m sleeping again. I feel like myself again. I also haven’t seen him since I started. Is he finally gone? I sure hope so. We’ll continue with the treatment process and see how it goes.
Journal entry no. 02, 12/30/xxxx It’s been a few weeks now, and the process is still running fairly smoothly aside from a few small bumps in the road. I think this is the end of this whole thing. I think I’m going to be able to go back to my normal life again. Thank God.
Journal entry no. 03, 01/05/xxxx I saw him again. He was just standing there in the corner of the room, breathing. I tried calling for help but I was unable to do anything. The doctors are going to bump up my treatment. They said it’s not strong enough. I really want this to be over.
Journal entry no. 04, 01/07/xxxx The treatment has had some side effects. According to the doctors I was shouting like a lunatic in my sleep last night. I don’t remember it though. I haven’t dreamt since I saw him last, which I’m not sure is good or bad. Why is this happening to me?
Journal entry no. 05, 01/10/xxxx I woke up with a bruise on my neck today. The doctors checked the camera logs and.. I did it to myself apparently. They think I tried to choke myself, I keep telling them I didnt. They don’t believe me. Can I really blame them?
Journal entry no. 06, 02/03/xxxx It’s been a while since I wrote one of these. They had me restrained. They think I’m suicidal. They don’t believe that it’s him. They’re keeping close watch on me now. As I write this I’m being watched by multiple cameras. What is he? Why does he do this?
Journal entry no. 07, 02/07/xxxx I want to see my family. I want to live a normal life. I might not ever get to. They won’t let me leave this place. They say it’s for my own safety, but I call bullshXt. They aren’t even doing anything anymore. If anything I’m getting worse. I saw him last night. He was closer this time. And he was trying to say something. It was too quiet though.
Journal entry no. 08, 02/10/xxxx He talked. He spoke to me. I have no idea what he said, but he spoke directly to me last night. I couldn’t understand him, like he wasn’t even speaking a real language. Just mumbles and gibberish. I haven’t seen the doctors in a while. I know they’re on the other side of that door, but they won’t speak to me or let me see them. Who even are these “doctors”? I thought they were going to help me.
Journal entry no. 09, 02/17/xxxx The lack of human interaction is driving me insane. I keep seeing him. They know I’m seeing him. But they don’t do anything about it. They gave me a weird liquid yesterday with my meal, I didn’t drink it. Smelled awful. I don’t think they like me writing here very much.
Journal entry no. 10, 02/21/xxxx So many bruises on my arms. Where did they come from? They’re almost like handprints. I suspect the doctors tried to do something to me in my sleep, I have no proof of that though. I’m beginning to think if I should try to get out of this place. I don’t want to be here.
Journal entry no. 11, 03/01/xxxx They read my journal. They took it while I was sleeping. They gave it back after a few days. Is this a prison? I hate this place. I’ve been seeing him almost every night now.
Journal entry no. 12, 03/03/xxxx They finally spoke to me again today. Told me about some crap they’re doing to my treatment. I didn’t listen much. I caught a glimpse of the room on the other side of the door though. Screens, machines, and cages. Small cages. Rats and mice maybe? The hell are they doing here?
Journal entry no. 12, 03/05/xxxx Definitely rats. I hear their little footsteps. Sounds like a few escaped. Lucky them. My treatment hurts more than usual now. Gives me a headache and today I even passed out. When I woke up I was back in my bed and I have what looks and feels like a burn mark on my stomach. Whatever they’re doing to me, it’s definitely not helping.
journal entry no. 13, ??/??/???? I don’t know what day it is anymore. I’ve slept through the better part of these past few weeks. More burn marks. Everywhere. Bruises too. Am I going to die here?
journal entry number 14, i don’t know the fxcking day. i don’t know how long i’ve been here. i want out of this hell hole. they’re watching my dreams. like a fxcking tv show. they hook me up to a machine in my sleep and record my dreams. something went wrong and i woke up and saw them, watching me. this isn’t what i signed up for. they’re killing me. bruises burns and blood. i don’t know what they do to me while im asleep but it’s going to kill me. i know they’re there. they’re watching me. but they wont show me their faces. they wont even speak. get. me. out. of. here.
they’re giving him my body. they’re giving him my body. like it’s a fxcking suit for him to wear. i saw it. he took my body and pushed me to the back of my head where i could only watch. they know i know what they’re doing. they’re trying to help him. i was exactly the person they needed to get to him. they can’t control him though. they’re trying to beat him until he breaks. they’ll stab him and burn him and beat him but they won’t kill him. what is he? why do they want him? why my body? i n e e d t o g e t o u t o f h e r e
i got out. i got out. he killed them. almost every last one. he killed them but i took control and ran. he’s still inside me. i can’t let him take me. if he does i don’t know if i could come back. he’s powerful. he’ll kill everyone. i’m going to burn that place. i’m going to burn every last bit. that sadistic little nightmare prison.
this will be my last entry. it’s gone. it’s all ashes now. that little “treatment facility” in the middle of the woods is no more. no one will be a victim to them anymore. i left my family a letter. wrote that i had gone missing. i have to leave them. he’s still in me. i hope that one day someone finds this sad little book. i can’t let my family know though. i don’t want them to know what i went through. i tied the rope to the tree that i sit under now. nobody should find my body here for some time. so goodbye world. and to you, whatever you are, this thing inside of me, fxck you. end.”