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*NVGR* A Genuinely Scary Story: Part 2 - Destructoid

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About
About Me:

I'm a 21 year old gamer from Canada who refuses to accept rational or logical explanations of all things. Armed with a large vocabulary and total disregard for morals and opinions, I fight for Justice. Or Destruction. Which ever gets me teh pwn.




Also, here are 10 things you didn't know about me



Games I've Played worth mentioning
Resident Evil Series
Shining Force Series
All the Sonics. ALL of them.
Command and Conquer Series
Fallout 1,2 and 3
The Elder Scrolls Series

A Genuinely Scary Story

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9

Other Stories I've Written

Risque Business
Karma
Monkey Business
The Chronicles of Niero
A Tribute to ZzFFTLzZ: The End of Douchebaggery
Skid Marks
Tastes on the Danforth: The Harbinger of Death
Didn't see that one coming
The Gross Out
Fear: Shit makes you run
You can't get out eggnog stains
Rage is the best investment
Stupid is as stupid does
Necessity above all else
The most horrific story ever told
Dunk-a-roos: Crack for children

Player Profile
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For part one, click here. This video will help set the mood.



And now we jump back in where we left off.

As I took off the Blindfold, the site that greeted me, took me by surprise. We had parked in a grove of wicked looking trees that flanked the entrance to a field that was high with corn. It was straight out of a movie. The full moon was directly ahead of us, still steeped in a deep orange colour. The stars were out in full force, completely visible as there where no major urban centers around to blot them out. It was hauntingly beautiful. The others made similar noises of awe as they took our blindfolds off. Mr. Lobos opened his door and exited the van. I took of my seat belt and followed suit.

The entire group was standing around the van. The temperature had dropped a few degrees and the chill in the air bit into us. I zipped up my sweater and shivered, my breath fogging as I exhaled. I decided to walk around the car and investigate. I looked into the cornfield, stared up at the moon and walked back to the road. Looking both ways, I tried to spot some form of civilization. A yard light, car headlights, anything.

Nothing.

Mr. Lobos made me jump as he stood beside me and spoke.

"I'm sorry for the scare show," he said, "but I can't let you know how to get here with out me."

He then turned to me and looked me in the eyes.

"You wouldn't be safe."

He said that phrase with such certainty, I immediately believed him and hurried over to my friends. Mr. Lobos walked over and stood before us. He explained that we couldn't know the route to the place, it was his secret and it had to stay that way. He went on to describe that this was not "The Bush" but a parking spot to keep the car hidden from passers by. The group exchanged concerned looks at this last statement. He then walked towards the road and beckoned us to follow. As we fell into a group led by Mr. Lobos, I could feel my senses drinking in the environment like never before. I don't know if it was the night air or just because I was afraid, but I was very aware of my surroundings. I could smell the dampness of the grass, I could hear cars far away on the highway. The full moon lit the area and I could see everywhere, but in this, the shadows that formed in it's moonlight began to play tricks on my mind.

We eventually came to a T-junction and turned right. In front of us, there was a huge teeming forest. The trees looked to be hundreds of years old. Mr Lobos produced a single flashlight, clicked it on and swept it along the tree line. He uncovered a walkway down into a grove. Telling us to keep close, we turned off the road and descended into the dark wood.

(Here is a overview of the area I made with my elite paint skills. I'll include it with the next few post so you'll know where I'm talking about.)


As we progressed down the slope, the trees pulled back and we emerge into a field on a hill, with trees surrounding the outside of it. At the bottom of the hill, directly in front of us, there was a Huge Oak tree, encircled with large rocks. As we approached the tree, Mr Lobos told us to sit down and wait. The group obeyed. As I sat down on one of the rocks, I experienced one of the grossest sensations ever. I truly felt like I was watched by something close, and that it was not friendly. Mr. Lobos started to walk into the trees, not saying a word , and disappeared from sight.

The group broke into whispers.

"What the fuck is he doing?", Erica asked. "He brings us out here and just fucks off?"

"I don't know about the rest of you," Phil said, "but I'm really not liking this situation."

"I know what you mean," I added, "Does anyone else feel like they're being...watched?"

"Shit," Katie said, "He's back."

Mr. Lobos had emerged from the trees. He held 6 walking sticks, one for each of us. He handed them out immediately as he reached us and sat down in silence. Now with a potential weapon in my hands, I felt a bit more at ease. Should Mr Lobos try anything, it's be stupid of him as he had just armed us. Mr. Lobos was apparently thinking the same thing. He began to speak in a hushed tone and spoke very slowly, carefully pronouncing each syllable. His irregular pauses made me uncomfortable.

"I've given you, each, a walking stick." He said, "This, is mainly to make the walk, easier on you. Partly to defend yourselves, if need be. The trails, in here, are not completely finished, and there will be lots of slopes and hills, a couple muddy sections too."

He turned and pointed down the trail.

"Down there is the start, it's known as, 'Lower Trail' , that's because it drops down, along side of the Nine Mile River and takes us, to our halfway point, the campsite. That's where we'll take a break, for a bit, regroup and head out on 'Upper Trail'. Again it's called that, because it goes up the hill."

He turned again, this time to face the field behind us.

"On the other side of that hill, is the exit of upper trail. When we emerge out of there, we will cross the field, and stop here before we head back to the car. Any questions?

The group remained silent. A slight breeze blew in through the trees.

"Alright," he continued, "Now, the reason why you are here, is to observe. I want you to look, to listen, and to smell. You'll need to look with your peripheral vision, since it's so dark. Believe it or not there it a hole in the center of your eye, and this will make you miss things. When ever you see of hear something, say 'stop', audibly, but not loudly and then alert us to the direction, of where the thing is. Most importantly, if you get scared, do not, do NOT, run away. I can't protect you if you're not with me."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, I was into something that was way over my head. Mr. Lobos continued.

"There's something in this bush. I'm not certain what it is, but it watches us. Some of the things you may hear are the sounds of dozens of small animals surrounding you, footsteps, drumbeats, voices, all sorts of strange things. You'll see lights and silhouette. Keep a sharp eye though, since it's dark in there, your mind will play tricks on you with the shadows. When we go in, we'll be in single file, holding onto the person in front of you."

"Won't you have the flashlight on?" Shawn asked. Mr. Lobos turned to face him.

"No. You'll have to use you're night vision to the best of it's ability."

The group squirmed uneasily. Now we were going through a huge spooky bush that could be filled with all sorts of who knows what, without any flashlights? I was scared. At least there was a full moon, I thought. I began to look back towards the road, wondering how far it was to the van. Mr. Lobos cleared his throat and grabbed my attention.

"Now before we head in," he spoke, "I'm going tell you the story of the first time I came out here, the night of the will reading. This story will hopefully prepare you for what you're about to experience. It may freak you out a bit." He paused and grinned slightly, "Oh, and just so you know, the rocks you're sitting on, and throughout this whole bush, are the graves of Native Canadians."

My friends and I exchanged freaked out looks. I've read too many Stephen King books to know that Indian burial grounds are never good. A few of us moved off the rocks and onto the grass. I turned to Mr Lobos.

He breathed in deeply and began to tell his story.

To be continued...
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