Woods of Madness

XIII

I don't know how far I ran, but I was exhausted, barely breathing. I still didn't look back, and it has been a while since I've heard anything. I couldn't take it anymore, and I collapsed onto my knees. Just as I looked up, I saw several figures in front of me, and there... American soldiers. I'm rescued, thank God. Overwhelmed with joy, I collapse into unconsciousness.

My eyes opened, and I scanned my surroundings. I'm in a normal room. I would get up, but my legs hurt too much to move any more. The door in front of me opened, and a nurse entered. "Oh, you're awake! Thank goodness," she said. "I need you to bring me whoever is in charge here. It's important." I knew I had to tell them what happened as quickly as possible. There's still a possibility that my fellow soldiers are alive.

 I explained my story to the squad leader, and he was in utter disbelief. His hands trembled as he listened to my story. There was no time for me to rest, and we quickly packed everything. The whole squad went into the woods once more. The squad is three times larger than mine was, and they have much better equipment.

 As we entered the woods, my heart raced and I turned pale. All the memories quickly flooded back, and all my senses were at maximum capacity. I didn't dare to blink, not once. I know what's out here, and I'm terrified of it all. But surely, with tanks, we can put up much more of a fight.

Finally, I led them to the sight of the cabin. But there was nothing. There was no cabin, no torn tents, nothing left behind. Just an open field and grass. It was as if humans have never stepped foot in this place. I can't believe this. This is the right place, it is. Why is it empty? Why? I quickly retraced my steps and led them to where the severed heads were once there. I saw the tree. It's the same tree, exactly the same, but inside it, there was nothing. Nothing was on the ground. Not even the whole was there. I was immediately extensively questioned and thought of as a nut. I told them everything, exactly the same, every single time. But they didn't believe me. I had no real evidence.

"Are you sure you're sane?" the fat inspector asked me smugly. "Of course I am. Look, people died, and there are people dying right now. Charlton, Martin, and Charles, they're in danger!" I was beyond frustrated. "And who are they?" he asked. "James Connely was our captain. Charles Polanski was a close friend of mine, a fellow private, and Martin Gould was the only doctor we had." "Well, soldier, there is no record of those three people ever existing," he said venomously. I stood there in silence, trying to process what I just heard. "Impossible. That simply is impossible," I said. "Oh, it's true. Those three people never existed. Heck, no people in the army even looked remotely like them, past or present. And what's worse is that you're a damn deserter," he said with venom. "I am not!" I raised my voice, unable to remain calm. He paced in front of me, handing me a piece of paper saying I had been missing from the 18th battalion for weeks. "But that's impossible. I'm from the 13th," I pleaded. But he didn't listen. "Tell it to the judge." No one listened. 

I was to be court-martialed, but a judge ruled me unfit for trial, and I was sent to a mental asylum. I spent four years there. It was a wretched place, much worse than the orphanage. It was hell on earth. Finally, I got released with my mind somehow intact, and I got a job as a janitor. I spent time being homeless, but eventually, I saved enough money for an apartment. I live there now, but not a single day passes without me thinking about the event that happened.

 I wasn't insane. It all happened. But what on earth was it? I don't think there is any logical explanation. It's beyond us. I wrote everything I remembered in a diary. I failed to convince anyone of what had happened, but maybe one day I'll find the truth.

 I never found out what happened to James, Charles, and Martin. No record of them exists no matter where I check.  I'm left speechless and without thoughts. The more I think about those events, the less sense they make every time. But despite all of the horror I have witnessed, one thing still haunts me more and more every passing day, and it's the cave. Those drawings and unknown markings haunt me.I cannot sleep without the light on, and the one thing that scares me more than anything in there is that I was able to read something written on the wall, as it was  in English and it read:

"It arrives on March 15th, 1952..."

That's tomorrow.