Small towns hold the most secrets, some more dangerous than others. What happens when people start to be murdered or others begin to go missing? The police don't know who or what is killing these people. Amy is just a 16 year old girl who even in he...
I cleaned away the blood and tented to my new wound on my own. Gertrude wasn't back yet, so I decided to take out the journal and read more of it; there was nothing else to do and maybe it would give me some insight on my life. The book felt heavier than usual or maybe it was just me in my tired state; the ruby cover hiding all contents underneath it. I could go on the internet and spread this information, but then who would believe me? Every other evidence of Jones O' Brian was gone.
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I ponder if the others miss us, or if they have rather just forgot all about us. The villagers here are kind but something about them sends a chill up my spine like the cold river streams of home when, the rivers I used to play in when the sun burned off all the dew on the grass.
I have tried countless times to ask if we could try to go back to the exploration group, but alas no matter who I ask they just laugh as if it's the most preposterous question to have ever been asked. I do remember asking a certain girl and her cold eyes boring into my own she replied, her voice void of emotion, "They think you're dead, along with everybody else."
"Then I must go and prove them wrong, show them I am alive." Told the emotionless girl and to my response she said something that chilled me to the core, "You're never getting out of this forest alive; at least not without one of us guiding you. And that won't happen" The child's lips played up into a devilish smirk and at that point I thought she looked like a demon hell-bent on causing mischief. I on the other hand was deeply disturbed. I used to write in this journal to keep track of dates or events that happen, now I am afraid I do it for my sanity.
~Jones O' Brian
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This journal is getting depressing.... If Jones O' Brian did discover Miaskoa and this village he talks about was the beginnings of the town then why hide it? He did describe the girl like demon so maybe the town's original occupants were Demons...
I flipped closer towards the end of the thick journal were the writing got messier and the entries grew shorter.
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I have seen something that cannot be unseen. It haunts me to the point where I feel dread and suspicion about the shadows against the wooden walls of the hut.
It was a creature, I saw a creature, it must have been from Hell, this entire place is damned to the confinements of that place. God must be punishing us for a fault; I have yet to find what whether that fault be in ourselves or in the world. He must of sent it to torment us. Leathery wings as black as night, scales like polished steel and claws that could shred a tree. It was eating something; I couldn't tell what and I didn't stop to examine it more, deer maybe? It could've been a villager for all I knew.
All I have concluded is that animal that the creature was feasting upon was torn apart, innards spilling open to stain the ground red. And as I turn to run the thing behind me lets out a deafening howl. Not once did I stop until I got back to the village. None of them looked the least bit concerned about the monster, surely, they could hear its howl? Or were they in ca-hoots with it? If such a demon was terrorizing a town there wouldn't be at least one look of dismay among the people here. Or were they people at all?
~Jones O' Brian
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I skimmed the pages some more it was getting late out but still no Gertrude. Most likely I would have to go back to school tomorrow. I landed on a page who's first words certainly caught my eye, it was one of the final pages in the journal.
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I'll have to eradicate them.... But how? They aren't Christian, they don't have any churches it wouldn't be a sin... Right? How have I noticed, these people, they don't eat food, or at least I have not seen them. Maye I was too blinded by my gratefulness. I have banded my men to agree with me on my ideas, these villagers aren't human, although some are more hesitant than others.
They're from Hell they have to be, this cursed place could spawn no other creature. I can't kill them on my own even just remembering the winged beast I saw gives me chills, it was taller than three full grow men standing on each other, and no doubt in my mind unimaginably stronger.
I will need to start something, a group, loyal, strong, and if this is just one village in the entire forest... No there are probably more... We need to kill them all before they can infect the souls of the world with their greed and sin. This group I must create has to dedicated to eradicating them all no matter the cost. God will forgive us in the end. There must be a portal were these demons are climbing out of, that must be the fault... I will right this world...
Kill them, even the children, they cannot be left to grow to the devils that they are. I have already dispatched my men to some of the houses in the night. Am I insane? I don't think so...
As I write I can here the screams. We need to keep one of them alive to lead us out of this forest. The bulbus waxy middles of the flowers in the village center is glowing red tonight instead of yellow, the pink flowers a shimmering silver.
Now instead of hearing children screams I hear my men's' and they're now abruptly cut off with a gurgle. I guess we will have to abort our mission and go onto a different one plan.
~Jones O' Brian
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A shiver man down my spine after I read the entry. The man was definitely going insane. And what was this secret group he mentioned? At that moment Gertrude flew in from the window, a mane of colored hair flying out behind her.
I let out a shriek of surprise at the sudden entrance of the person. Gertrude noticed the new bandage on my face her eyes narrowed but didn't comment. I bit the inside of my cheek and looked down at the journal that I had currently closed.
I glanced back up at Gertrude and asked, "Did this 'Jones O' Brian' guy make a group of sorts?"
Gertrude froze in place her eyes slowly going wide and mouth agape. She cleared her throat before responding "Jones Brian created a group that's soul ambition or purpose was to prosecute Demons, he created with the intention to just kill off what he thought was a simple gate to hell, or village. Obviously, it wasn't just that..." Gertrude nudged her head in the direction of the journal in my lap and her eyes became sad.
"That journal I'm sure you've noticed is his, he got lost in a forest and came across the settlement of the soon to be Miaskoa which I'm sure you know already."
I rubbed the yellowed pages of the book, "He kind of' sounds insane towards the end." I chuckled, and Gertrude shrugged but the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile slightly.
"What was the name of the group he created?" I questioned.
Gertrude looked away from and I could tell that this conversation bothered her. "The Red Hunters, they were named the Red Hunters."
