Something to Bond Over || Until Dawn Jossam

The Healer [Part 01]

JOSH; MINES; 21:19
FOURTEEN HOURS SINCE INCIDENT

No contact? Check. No supplies? Check. No food? Check. Cold? Check. Dark? Check. Monsters? Check check the flipping flippity check check. The perfect ingredients for a horror film, huh?

What? You think I'm missing some other elements to my perfectly cooked-up motion picture? That what I'm describing is lacking the perfect setting for a physiologically-simulating feature?

Oh please. Give me some credit. I'm not an amateur. The only reason you think that way is because I'm not really telling you anything—anything important—anything that matters. You have no idea what else I have with me.

Besides, I don't really know you all that well yet, and you'll just think I'm crazy. Ha! You probably already do, don't you? I wouldn't be surprised.

But more importantly, I don't think you're ready for it. Damn, bro, I don't even think that I will ever be ready for it, you know? And I've experienced it plenty of times already, and everything's all right here with me.

Jesus, what a night, am I right? To the knight? 'Cause it's bright with a light that is white up a height with a kite on the site?

Oh oops, shit, sorry, man. I did it again. That's been happening to me a lot more often now. Just my brain being all messed-up and stuff, y'know?

Or not... Who the hell knows what's reality and not anymore anyways? Certainly not me! Ha! You should hear what the—er, never mind.

Back to the topic. Where were we? Oh yeah, my woes and self-pity.

So what else do you want to know? Oh no, wait a minute, you probably think I'm lying or making things up right now. I mean, I did say I didn't know the difference between reality and imaginary anymore, and it doesn't help that I'm a son of a Hollywood horror film mogul.

Well, you gotta trust me on this.

Wow, I'm a hypocrite, huh? Yeah, well, you're just gonna have to deal with it. You have no choice but to trust me. I mean, you're the one intruding in on my thoughts anyway. I think we could agree that I have the right to keep some things to myself, thanks.

So to answer: I am somewhere deep in the mines in Blackwood Pines with lots of vines which then declines assembly lines radical signs. Fuck. Shit. Sorry. My brain's shit. God.

Where was I? Oh, the mines. Well, it's the same mines the parents used to warn us about when we were younger. Don't go deep into the woods, kids. The mines are too dangerous and we don't want you to get hurt. And now I'm in the heart of it all.

In the past hours, I got well-acquainted with how dangerous this place can really be. And I'm not just talking about the monsters outside, or the lack of safety from the excavation, or the fragility of the environment.

No, it's what I'm left with—the only thing I have now: Nothing. I have nothing.

And I can't have nothing or no one. I'm not an alchemist, you know? I don't believe that something can only come from something. Sometimes, when you're left with nothing, something happens—something forms.

And here, in The Lair (as I have now come to call it), I find those things to be something to be fearful of.

I guess you want to know, huh?

Alright. Alright, fine. You win. I'll tell you. To be honest, even my psychiatrist had been telling me to talk more about it—that talking about it could actually help me more than it would destroy me. So you better not betray me in the end. I'll trust you so I'll tell you. I'll tell you. I'll trust you.

You see, Death has a way to taunt me.

I'm not talking about the idea of death. No, I'm talking about that bastard controlling the establishment of immortal punishment. That bastard is toying with me.

And no, this isn't some supernatural bullshit.

My current predicament may be a horror show waiting to be filmed, but it isn't that kind of horror show. What's out there, shrieking last night—those monsters, are horrible and ugly and scary as shit... but what's in here with me?

I see dead people.

Ha! Sixth Sense reference. Another horror film. Everything points back down to a horror film. My entire life points back down to a horror film. Damn, my whole freaking life is a horror film.

The monster last night was an animal, you know? A smelly human-like animal that is probably a human corpse brought to life by the moon or something. It's not—It can't be Han—God, I don't know. But it doesn't compare to the monsters here with—