Demons

Chapter 21- An UnNamed Journal

Amy's POV

I wandered through the rows books; all neatly organized. Occasionally I would pull out one of the pieces of literature due to the thought that it looked interesting. A particularly interesting book caught my eye in the Non-Fiction section. Its cover was a dark unsettling shade of red while the book's spine had three bands of golden along the top and bottom. It didn't have a title and was obviously old from how the cover clung on loosely and the condition of the thing.

I flipped it open to a random spot and began to read it to see if it was any good to me;

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The dawn is cold, we awoke at an early hour were mist still covers the rich soil in thick layers. The larks haven't even released their morning song yet and all is still in this deathly quiet forest. Still we do not know were we are. A hunting expedition gone horribly wrong.

Trees loom over head, taller than what we have ever seen as if giants of long ago stuck them there into the ground. No game has been spotted to even shoot at. My men are hungry, weary and cold. With loaded muskets slung over our back we trudge on through this accursed place.

Perhaps we are going in circles? I wouldn't know. We were supposed to explore yet here we are trapped in a cycle of walk, rest, starve. Yet we dare not misplace our hope tho' some of my men seem to be giving up.

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I stopped reading figuring that the book was a journal of some sort.

                Amazing that it survived this long.... And it's interesting...

Flipping back a few pages I wanted to figure out how they got lost;

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Tonight, we celebrate with a round of Whiskey for Christmass eve is here. Jackson and Mark and shot and killed two bucks elk and a medium sized bird with colorful feathers. Now we must pick who must skin them, we could surely use their hides, for winter is almost upon us and with it freezing weather. So someone of steady hand. They present the killed game to our leaders, who use their marrow and bone and tonge to craft a stew.

The fire crackles and roars before us as we feast on boiled elk meat, the embers flicker into the darkening sky above. I could see the other camps; laughter floated from them.

We add some wild carrots to the stew along with some meat and soon everyone has some in the slightly cracked wooden bowls. Zesty jubilation fills our camp as we trade stories and sing songs in our half drunken state.

The whiskey burns down my throat, but it leaves me warm and blurs away the hardships of this expedition almost to the point as if they aren't there anymore. Forget about the strange encounters with the natives, the peculiar events that have happened and just fall into the exultation of the camp, the happiness of the men around me.

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I growled in frustration, that wasn't it, although happy and lighthearted it didn't tell how they got lost. The man did mention a hunting party in the first entry I read so I scanned over pages until I found I mention of that;

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Capt. William has chosen me to lead a hunting party. It is childish, but I am giddy with joy, this is an opportunity for me to move up. I must prepare for everything, nothing shall go astray while I am supervising. The morning dawn is just starting to lighten into it's cool cerulean hue. Not a single cloud mars the perfect strip of blue that floats above.