Duskwood: And Beyond

1. The Beginning

ORYN

I always liked the dawn. It always made me feel like this dark cloud lifting from my soul. I woke up around five as usual. I had a long day waiting for me. I have always started my day by running. I didn't know why but it always made me feel free. I didn't know if I was running away from the past or running towards the future. But it always calmed my mind. After running my usual path, I returned home, took a shower, and got ready for the day. I was not very excited about my work. I was working for a local newspaper in my little town. It was enough to provide me with what I needed but nothing really goes wrong in my town. That was a good thing but it also meant that I don't really have any big news coming my way.

I bought some coffee on my way to work. Two cups, dark, no cream or sugar, one for me and one for Anabelle. Anabelle was my coworker but over the four years, we developed a friendship. She was full of life, always happy. I never understood why she chose to remain in this silent and colorless town, as her personality was too loud and colorful for it. But she loved her home. She loved the people here. She always said it made her feel safe. And she was right. Nothing ever happened here. Mrs. Aldo's cat ran away now and then. Occasionally a kid would return late to home. Some neighbors would have disagreements, some would have romance. That was it. It was quiet, safe, and peaceful. But I always wanted more. I graduated from college five years ago and hoped I would be one of those known journalists. But things didn't go as planned. I had to return home, to this little town. Occasionally, I would write little articles here and there online, some book and movie reviews... But it never felt fulfilling.

I entered the old building. Anabelle was already waiting for me. She was full of energy as always. She was sitting at her desk, which was decorated with various plants and photos. Across her desk was mine. Mine has one succulent, and one notebook that I doodle in occasionally. I liked my desk plain, clean, empty. It helped me concentrate. The best part of working in a small town was that our office was not crowded. There were only three of us, Mr. Becker, Anabelle, and myself. We were all sitting in the same room, not that we had any other rooms aside from the bathroom and the kitchen, and we worked together. We ate together. It was cozy and intimate. Mr. Becker was the owner of the newspaper, he was kind and fatherly. He would always celebrate our birthdays, he was always there for us. When I first started, he was always with us. He even wrote some stories himself. But he was getting old and it was clear that he no longer had any interest in the news anymore. He usually arrived around mid-day, stayed for an hour, and returned home. So most of the time, it was just Anabelle and me, writing a newspaper that looked more like a flyer or a brochure.

After spending some time talking about books, tv shows, and barely existing local gossip, Anabelle received a message from Mr. Becker saying he was going on a holiday with his wife for a month. This meant that we were free to write about anything and spend our time hanging out. We didn't even have to show up every morning. That was one of the advantages we got from this job. The hours were flexible and most of the time, we didn't have to show up at work. As long as we had our computers and phones, we were good to go. So, as per usual we decided to return home and meet up at my place around noon to watch some unscary slasher.

I liked slashers but most of those things never happen in real life right? I mean, why would some freak with a mask slash a bunch of people for some weird reason like revenge or love or whatever. If you have too much information then maybe share it with the police right? Besides, I would always guess who the culprit was. It was always so obvious. But it was fun to watch.

After saying goodbye to Anabelle, I started walking back to my house. I put on Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood and speed-walked my way. As I was entering my house my phone buzzed. I assumed Anabelle had some small gossip about someone in our town but that was not the case. It was a chat request from someone named Thomas. I was certain I didn't know who that was. But I responded anyway. He added some more random individuals I didn't know. Cleo, Richy, Dan, Lily, and Jessy... Who were these people? Was this some sort of a prank?

Then things escalated. Suddenly Lily was accusing me of doing something to her sister, Hannah Donfort. I was certain I didn't know who that was. It was obvious that these people were under such discomfort so I decided to be nice. And I was right. Apparently, Hannah Donfort disappeared three days ago. And she gave Thomas my number for some reason unknown to me. After spending some time telling them that I was not the person they were looking for, I felt sorry and decided to keep responding. I am not going to lie, a part of me was curious to see where this was going, but I was not the police and I wasn't sure if I could be helpful.

It was clear that this group had some internal issues. Dan seemed very uncomfortable with my existence, Richy was trying to be the mediator and Jessy didn't even talk to me. Richy seemed fine. He reminded me a bit of Anabelle. He was trying to be kind and I could see that. He asked me my name and I stupidly gave it to him. Cleo was not happy about his friendliness. And then it happened, they asked for my help.

I wasn't sure what I could do to help. But I had to do something, right? I was familiar with loss, and I knew how hard it could be. But on the other hand, I was just a 27-year-old, small-town journalist. I felt bad for them. It was horrible to lose someone so suddenly, not knowing if they were dead or alive. On the other hand, I was also aware that talking to these people could get me in trouble. I had to make sure that I was safe so I took one of my faux leather-bound journals and decided to write my conversations with them.

27 September 2019

Hannah Donfort has been missing for three days.

Thomas, her boyfriend contacted me.

She has a sister, Lilly.

Thomas filled me in on the situation; Thomas has been distraught since Hannah's disappearance. He doesn't like to talk about himself. But he says he would do anything to find her. He doesn't like to judge people. He says he misjudged ad trusted people too quickly in the past. He didn't go to the police with my number as he is afraid to look more suspicious. The police probably already consider him to be a suspect. After all, it's usually close to the victim with these things. The message containing my number was erased. That is really weird. Our conversation was cut short. He had to pick up his little brother. He said he will write back once he is available.

During my conversation with Thomas, something weird happened. I was able to see Jessy and Dan's conversation. What is happening here?