DECEMBER JANE

December: Untold

The thing was called The Rake. It was an entity like a skinwalker, but more conscious of its own sentience. No one knows where it came from, and no one knows who it works for-- but by God, if it's sent from the government, I would not be surprised.

After a few days, I felt brave enough to leave the hospital again. I left in the early morning, around eight A.M., so as to not run into a creature like that in the dark ever again. I walked the same ten-mile stretch as usual. Though, at this point, I hadn't been able to visit for about a week or so. Maybe even longer, if I remembered correctly.

When I arrived, I found the same place against a rotting log and walked toward it. However, something on a tree next to it caught my eye. An old notebook page with some stuff scribbled on it was nailed to the bark. It was weathered and stained, the words on it drawn on with pen. It was some weird doodle of some poorly drawn trees and a faceless stick figure. I stared at it. What could have driven someone to nail that to a tree?

I walked up to it and ripped it off to take a closer look.

What was the man? Why the trees? Why was the figure as tall as the trees?

Losing interest in the old litter, I shoved it into my bag, then walked back to my typical spot to sit back down and work.

From the woods, I heard a noise, and it wasn't one I was familiar with. It was a whisper that came with a breeze, that then multiplied, and suddenly several whispering voices seemed to emerge from the trees. My first thought was to ignore it. I was paranoid from The Rake. Everything was okay. Then my ears started to ring. The noise faded in until I couldn't hear the rustling of the wind any longer. I kept standing, not sure of what to do.

Part of me wanted to leave. The other part of me wanted to work, but not here. Definitely not here.

I heard a noise come from behind me, or maybe it was to my right. I was never able to tell. Sounds that came from my right often sounded like they came from behind me. Out of instinct, I placed my hand on my gun and scanned the area as usual.

Somewhere, just like with The Rake, I heard movement. Rustling. My vision started to waver, the ringing in my ears worsening. Anxiety rose in my chest. I needed to leave. Now.

I grabbed my pack and did not waste a moment leaving that clearing. My typical walk was now a jog, and through thicker parts of the woods, I ran.

Not even five minutes through the brush, I spotted another paper on a tree. I stopped in my tracks. The hairs on my neck stood up. There's no way.

I walked up to the tree and traced my fingers on the edge. This time, the paper had words. It was the same stick man from before, but you could see a suit collar this time, and the word NO was hastily carved over and over in the background.

Sucking in a breath, I ripped the paper from the nail.

For a moment, the ringing subsided. My mind grew quiet.

I understood, at that point, that I was supposed to grab these things.

I looked away from the tree, and to my horror, a towering fiend was standing about six meters away from me. It resembles some sort of human, but it was faceless, half shadow, half pale moon.

Nothing has ever made me feel so close to terror.
I jumped back and began to sprint in the opposite direction. While I ran, I grabbed my pistol and unlocked the safety. Round two of this rake bullshit, but this was much more terrifying. I tried to shoot over my shoulder, but I knew I wasn't helping myself. It was still worth something. My vision began to blur, filling with small dots. The blindness came in waves, but the ringing became more consistent. The more I ran, the louder the whispering got. OH GOD, WHAT IS THAT THING?!