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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

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Following (33)  


As promised, here's part 6!



The footsteps continued a few seconds after we had stopped, just as before. But the flash light didn't reveal any shadowy figure in pursuit. What it did show was an impossibility. Along the side of the trail, there were ferns and long grass, over growing the boundaries of the path. As the steps proceeded along the trail, the grass was being trodden down upon! I couldn't believe my eyes, I looked back at the group, and knew from their faces they had all seen it. I needed to be sure.

I walked up slowly to the spot where I had seen the act. I looked down. The grass and ferns had been stepped on, their blades imprinted in the center of a barefoot, human footprint. The rest of the group crowded around and looked. I traced the tracks back. 5 meters, 10 meters, 20 meters. They were there the entire way. I turned around and confronted Mr. Lobos.

"Fuck this," I stated, "I'm leaving."

"Alright, Luke," he replied, "You head back, we'll see you at the van when we're done."

That son of a bitch. He was not going to break. He was determined to finish his walk and I was too chickenshit to walk back to the van by myself. I ceded to his will and retook my position at the back of the line. We continued on.

I tried to ignore the continuous footsteps behind me. Whatever it was, it was keeping it's distance, and that was fine by me. The Bush was becoming more alive now. Every 20 feet we heard things. Twigs snap, voices murmur, leaves rustling as if someone was hiding in the bushes. We even began to see dark shapes moving between the trees, but only for a moment. It was gross. Phil now started to claim he was hearing something. He said it sounded like two feet, low to the ground and fast, whatever it was. No one else heard this thing and soldiered on each time.

We reached the campsite after about an hour of this stop and go routine. Once I saw the moon's reflection on the water through the trees, I ran ahead of the group and burst onto the campsite. As I was again drenched in the moonlight, my fear was washed away. I found it easier to breathe, my confidence was restored. The group emulated these feelings. Setting our walking stick down, we started to build a fire and I was more than happy to help.

It didn't take long for us to get a roaring fire. The flames lit the campsite, it's light licking the treetops around us, pushing back the encroaching darkness. We had claimed this spot, It became out out post of safety. As we sat conversation turned as to explain what had happened. this didn't last long, we were at a loss. Conversation then went to small talk and school rumours. Then to other things. It was around the same time that the Paris Hilton sex tape had come out ad we laughed about it, our past experience with the paranormal forgotten. The Bush, it seemed, took offense.

I was in mid sentence when I was interrupted by the Coyotes. Upon hearing them, I was immediately silent and turned to face the river. The wails came from the other side. I turned to Mr. Lobos. He reassured us that there wasn't a crossing for several kilometers in both directions and we were safe. However, we all remembered the story. We were dreading what was supposed to happen next. We waited in silence, the coyotes still with us, howling. Erica broke the silence.

"So do you think it's going to happen?"

The entire group looked at her astonished. Phil spoke first.

"Why the fuck would you say that? Seriously, why the fu-,"

The coyotes stopped. No one spoke. I got to my feet. I strained my hearing to it's fullest and analyzed every sound I heard. The river babbled to me. The breeze whispered to me. The fire cackled at me. My body screamed at me. But there was no little girl's scream. The coyotes began to sing to us again.

We all breathed a huge sigh of relief. I began to laugh, we all did. I faced Erica.

"Hahaha, you bitch," I joked, "I swear if after you mentioned the little girl screaming and if it had actually happened, I was goi-"

The loudest, scariest most blood-curdling scream I have ever heard in my life then erupted from deep within the bush, up on Upper Trail. I stood there with my jaw dropped in disbelief. There was nothing but the quiet air around us now, the coyotes silent. The whole group has frozen in their stances, each of them looking terrified, even Mr. Lobos.

"That's never happened before," He quietly remarked.

I looked each of my friends in the eye. They all glared at me like I was some kind of traitor, guilty of high treason. I had joking mentioned the girl last before the scream. I'm sure if anyone was killed that night, I would be accused of being the murderer. Mr. Lobos made us all jump by pouring water on the fire. It hissed as it's light was extinguished.

"We'll wait here for a few minutes until everyone's eyes have adjusted to the dark again," he said, "Then we're continuing on up Upper Trail."

We all began to disagree. Each of us didn't want to go near Upper Trail, not after hearing that fucked up scream. We all begged him to turn around and to lead us back through Lower Trail, but he would break. He stood at the entrance of Upper Trail and told us to get our walking sticks and to line up. We bitterly complied.

Up we went, the ascent was easier than the drop of Lower Trail. Like a snake, the path weaved up the hill and finally plateaued. Before, the Bush just seemed like a dark forest with a bit of mystery. Now, It seemed like the deepest reaches of hell. The trees around us were warped and misshapen. The air was thick with the damp smell of moss and rotting wood. Everywhere I looked, it seemed like something was ducking behind a tree or a rock, as if I had looked just in time to catch a glimpse. I'm sure most of it was my mind playing tricks on my, but it was the one or two times where I was sure I had seen something move that bothered me the most.

The moon then decided to betray us. Clouds had rolled in and were blocking it's light. Even though the tree canopy blocked out the majority of it, there was still some that shone through. It was a demoralizing thing to see. As the main cloud front moved in, closing out the light, a wall of darkness shot towards us and swallowed us whole. I shuddered. Mr. Lobos then turned to us and said to stick to the left. The ride side of the path bordered the edge of the hill side. We all obeyed.

The walk continued on, and things got worse. As we stopped for a moment to catch our breath, A beat started. The sound of someone taking two sticks and hitting them together in a pattern.

Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...

We stood and listened, trying to locate the direction of the sound.

Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...

The sound seemed to be all around us.

Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...

Katie and Erica huddled together with Shawn and Phil. Mr. Lobos and I stood on either side of the group, with our walking sticks held like clubs.

Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...

Mr. Lobos told me to give him my walking stick. I gingerly handed it to him. He then proceeded to mimic the pattern. The answer was immediate. But now it was closer.

Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...

Mr. Lobos did it again. The Bush Called back, still closer.

Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...

I then heard something, shuffling through the underbrush behind us. It sounded like two feet, low to the ground, and it was quick. I turned to the sound.

Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...

"Mr. Lobos," I whispered, "there's something behind us."

Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...clack-clack...

Mr. Lobos then did something I, still to this day, can't understand. Setting the walking sticks down, he walked to the edge of the hill and started to clap his hands, four times quickly.

"Me," was all he said. The sticks and the two foot sound stopped. I looked to Mr. Lobos.

"There, that's taken care of. Let's go."

The group quickly fell into line, while I just stood there in awe of this man. I had no idea of what to think. I had to say something.

"Well what the fuck is next?" I said, grasping for anything to say, "Are you going to show us a dead body?"

"No," He replied, "I'm taking you to the shack."








Since it's a lazy Sunday, if enough people want me to, I'll post the next part later tonight.
If there's at least, lets say, 30 comments, I'll let you see the next part later tonight! No spamming though! But for now, the continuation. Enjoy!



Watching Mr. Lobos walk towards the entrance of the bush made us all scramble to our feet. None of us wanted to go int there, but at the same time, no one wanted to be away from Mr. Lobos. Thankfully he heard us coming and stopped.

"Right," he said, "Remember, we're going in single file. I'll lead of course..."-he pointed at me-"...and you'll take caboose, Luke."

With the realization of what he meant by caboose, my brain felt like it was melting. Thousands of scenarios of a messy end raced through my mind. I tried to argue the fact, but Mr. Lobos ended my dissent by posing a good argument. I was the largest person there, other than himself and I was the ringleader of the group. He said that it would make the group feel safer if I took up the rear. I begged to differ. It was all I could do to not cry in terror. Reluctantly, I accepted my fate and headed to the back of the line. The one plus to this position was that Mr. Lobos had passed me a red-gelled flashlight from his coat. I kept it close to my chest, holding it like a rifle.

Mr. Lobos returned to the front of the line and ordered everyone to grab a hold of the person ahead of them. The final line up was Mr. Lobos, Shawn, Erica, Katie, Phil and lastly, myself. We started forward, marching to the entrance of lower trail. Tree's lined the trail towards it, the sky still visible above us. As we closed the last few meters to the entrances, I glanced ahead. The row of trees on either side links their branches together to block out the stars and the moonlight. A white sign was nailed to one of the trees. Past that, it was like there was a wall of black paint, you couldn't see down into the trail. Mr. Lobos walked into the darkness and disappeared, the other following him, a step behind. I gulped as Phil walked into the darkness and watched as my arm was enveloped into the night.

I had entered the Bush.

A force seemed to close in on my lung just as the darkness had swallowed me up. I tried to think calming thoughts, but It was all I could do from keeping my eyes in my head. I was looking all over the place for as much good as it did me. My eyes needed to adjust. Until then, I would have to try to keep up with the group, stumbling in the dark. I then began to wonder how Mr. Lobos could be able to travel this void with no lights. My mind attributed it to the fact that he claimed to have been out here many times before and knew the terrain. I don't know why, but that thought comforted me. We continued to walk.

After about 5 minutes My eyes had fully adjusted. I have extremely good night vision, I'm actually a product of evolution. When I was 9 I had an eye exam that revealed the fact that I have a silvery filament in my eye that, at night, allows me to pick up light far better than a normal person. Up to 80% better vision and focus I was told. I was thankful for it now. I could now see about 15 feet away from me. Even so, I still had no depth perception. Every time I stumbled, it looked like puffs of black smoke erupted around us, my eyes losing their focus.

The trail was a tunnel of darkness for the first 10 minutes. We stopped a few times along the way, pausing to hear what my friends had detected. Nothing made it apparent. I was starting to think that Mr. Lobos was just getting kicks out of taking a bunch of students out and scaring them, but I kept my suspicions to myself.

A few minutes after that, we came to a rise in the trail, a small hill. We passed it and entered a clearing. It was just as he described it in his story. Mr Lobos stopped the group.

"Let's wait and see if he comes tonight," Mr. Lobos said gravely.

My heart rate began to climb I turned around. If there was a twig about to snap, I wanted to see if he he friends out here, I was still unconvinced other wise. We waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Nothing.

The fear that I had felt earlier was quickly starting to dissipate. It was all a ruse. Mr. Lobos was screwing with us. I was about to confront him, but he spoke to soon.

"It seems like we won't be seeing him here tonight. Lets keep moving."

Phil turned back to me.

"Dude, he had me convinced that this place was actually haunted," he scoffed, "I'll still have to check for skid marks when we get home though, that story had me going!"

"Yeah, no doubt," I replied, "At least we got a good story out of it."

We jogged to rejoin the group before it re-enter the trail.

The sound of water was the next influence of note. As we walked away from the clearing, I began to hear the sounds of the Nine Mile River. I looked to my left, catching glimpses of the moonlight reflecting off the river's water through the trees. Mr/ Lobos told us to be careful. Up ahead the trail took a steep descent and paralleled the river's banks. It was here when Katie stopped the group for the first time.

"Stop!" she hissed, "I see something. Ten 'o' clock, low.

I looked to my left and down. I didn't see anything at first, the tree trunks crisscrossed to block my view, but the murmurs of my friends told me that something was there. I crouched and moved my body from side to side. There was a light.

It looked to be about the size of a Toonie. It glowed like a cigar ember, vividly orange, but it wasn't stationary. It moved and swayed in the air; aimlessly. We stared for about 5 minutes, until I decided to break the silence. I shouted out hello, my voice echoing through the wood.

It stopped dead in the air for a few seconds and then dropped, disappearing from view.

Phil and I exchanged a quick glance. Mr. Lobos chuckled.

"Let's keep it going."

The trail down the hill was indeed steep. Several times, my feet slipped out from under me and I had to scramble to recover my balance. I was not the only one who had to. Only Mr. Lobos seemed to be immune to the gravity of the situation. Finally the ground leveled out.

The same routine played out. We would walk and stop. Walk, and stop. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. One time, it did sound like there were dozens of small animals that were surrounding us, but with that many leaves on the ground, it could have been Night Crawlers that were making the noise.

However, circumstances would soon remove me of logical explanations.

I had been ignoring a lot of sounds I had been hearing since we had entered. I'd been interested in nature since I was a kid and knew many of natures noises. Since our last stop, however, I was starting to hear something out of the ordinary, something too organized. I thought I was hearing footsteps behind us. Each time that we would stop, the footsteps would stop a few seconds after, as if they were trying to match our pace. I told M. Lobos this and my suspicions of him having a friend follow us to scare us. His answer was blunt.

"Catch him with your flashlight, prove me wrong."

I took the flashlight and held it at the ready. I was going to be good and sure that when I did expose Mr. Lobos friend, I'd catch him before he could run. I waited. The footsteps sounded close, but they needed to be closer. after five minutes, I had what I asked for. The trail rounded a bend and dropped lower. I heard the footsteps heavy on the drop. Ripping the gel off the flashlight, I whipped around and flashed the light directly where the sound was coming from.

My jaw dropped at what I saw.








Alright here's the continuation of my little tale. Hope you guys like it. The previous parts are linked in my profile ------>



Mr Lobos turned to face the group.

"When we got home, no one wanted to talk about what happened. We said nervous goodbyes and went to our homes. I didn't sleep that night. The following week went by in a blur. We saw each other but each time we mostly sat in silence. Towards the end of the week however, our curiosity began to grow, we talked about the experience more and more and decided that we had to go back.

"A week later returned. As the time before, we parked in the same place and made sure that everything was locked. My brother had begrudgingly agreed to come along as well. Again we walked down into the gully and along lower trail. As we approached the clearing, we stopped for a moment and agreed that we would push through and go in deeper. We surmounted the crest of the hill and looked into the clearing. The flashlights went out again. For a second, we paused. As if on cue the twig snapped behind us, but instead of halting our progress, it spurred us on. We quickly crossed the void and walked through. The temperature seemed to drop, but as we reached the other end of the clearing, the flashlights burst into life and shone on. We continued.

"The bush around us seemed to become energized by our presence. Each tree looked tormented. The wind seemed to call at us , beckoning us to continue. As we walked along, the group stopped at the slightest sound. Each time a new noise seemed to call out. Twigs snapped. Tree's groaned. At one point, my friend at the back of the line was convinced that there was someone following us, but when we checked with the flashlights, there was no one.

"After about 50 minutes of this, we stumbled upon the campsite marked on our map. It sat beside the Nine Mile River and had some comforts. There was a fire pit , picnic table and only two ways in, the trail we entered on and the continuation of the trail on the far side. There were no trees along the side that bordered the river. We could look up at the stars and see the moon. The river was wide, the opposite bank was filled with an unbroken treeline. An almost identical treeline was drawn along the other side of the campsite, a wall between us and the unknown bush. Quickly we built a fire in the pit and began to talk about nothing, breaking our tension. We began to feel at ease, safe even, our laughter echoing across the river. After about 20 minutes, The Bush called back to us.

"On the other side of the river, the wails of coyotes began to drift across to our camp. We grew quiet as their whelps cried into the sky. The sound was beautiful, something that we had never heard safe in our homes and modern towns. We sat in silence as we listened to this song of the wild and marveled that in this demented wood, there was still something majestic; something pretty.

"Suddenly, the howling stopped. Silence followed their chorus of song.

"We sat, our senses on edge. Something had made them stopped. Our minds strained as we tried to think of what could do that. It was then when we heard a sound.

"It came in slowly at first. A shrilly high-pitched sound. It blew in with the wind. It was a little girls scream. My blood felt like it froze in my veins. It seemed to come from deep within the bush, but the wind carried it around us. It was one of the freakiest things I'd ever heard. I looked to my friends and our decision to leave was unanimous. Dousing the fire with water from the river, we lined up and headed along the trail, not looking back.

"The trail seemed to start climbing uphill almost immediately. The zeal we had earlier in the day to return to the bush was completely gone. All we wanted was to get out, but I felt compelled to exit out Upper trail than to just turn tail and head back out the way we came. And who knows, He may be waiting there for us. I shook the idea from my mind.

"As we walked, the bush seemed to go silent, as if someone had some kind of all powerful switch that controlled all the sounds of life and nature in the bush and had turned it off. Our hasty footsteps and our heavy breathing were the only sounds that we heard; other than our hearts, pounding in our chests. The trail became much narrower and we had to slow down. It was beginning to border the edge of the slope. Several times we stopped to survey the angle in which the hill dropped. Needless to say, one false move and it may have been our last.

"40 minutes had passed without much cause to stop, other than our own limits. As we came to an opening, we paused to catch our breath. For some reason, I took the map out from my pocket and shone my flashlight on it. If I was right, there was a shack near by to our left, further up the hill, but off the trail. I don't know why, but I had to see it. As we started off again, I kept the group in line and walked slowly, sweeping my flashlight up into the treeline. After 10 minutes, I found what I was looking for. A small path, wide enough for single file, winding up the hillside. I convinced the group to follow me and I started up it.

"As soon as I had taken a few steps up the slope, the flashlights beam unveiled the shack that was on the map. It was broken down, one of the walls had caved in and the roof was falling down. When we got close enough, I saw that slightly behind the shack, a walled off semi-circle of benches had been built. They didn't look as old as the shack however. I felt uneasy about being here, but my legs needed a rest. The group concurred. We sat down on the benches.

"We sat in silence at first, straining to hear anything, both of the flashlights turned off. All we heard was the wind caressing the trees around us, however. After something like 10 minutes, we started to talk about nothing really, but it broke the tension. As the conversation grew, our voices grew louder, ourselves getting bolder, feeling more comfortable than we had ever been while in this strange place. Occasionally I would hear something above us in the trees, but when I looked up, I dismissed it as the wind moving the treetops together. I don't know why, but for some reason, I decided to check on my brother. I looked over to him.

"He was sitting beside me in the semi-circle. Even though there was no light, my eyes had adjusted to the dark enough so that I could see his silhouette; I could make out his face, his arms, legs, etc. He was looking straight up into the tree tops, his jaw dropped. He wasn't moving at all. I tried to follow his eyes, but I couldn't see anything in the trees, I just heard some branches creaking in the wind. I moved closer to my brother and said his name. When he didn't respond, I grabbed his arm.

"The resulting shriek of terror made me fall back off the bench. The group also cried out in surprise, clumsily turning their flashlights on. In the rays that burst out, I saw my brothers form leap up from his seat and bolt down towards Upper trail. I rose up off my back and climbed over the bench to catch him, but I was in luck. He tripped over a root and fell to his knees, allowing us to catch him. My friends swarmed him and held him from running off. I looked back up into the trees, but my brothers cries for us to leave made me lead the way back down to Upper trail.

"For a second time, my brother's fear had infected all of us. Terrified, we ran through the last of the trail, encountering two wooden bridges along the way. The trail seemed to level off and widen as we ran, I knew we had to be close to getting out. Finally, we came around a corner in the trail and ran into a long corridor of tree trunks with the moonlight hill at the end of it. There was the way out. Invigorated by the sight, we sprinted for the exit. That's when the Bush seemed to come alive.

"A wind began to blow against us, it came from the exit. It was like it was trying to blow us back in. The closer we got to the exit, the stronger the wind got. Leaves and twigs blew past us and into our faces. Tree limbs swayed, swinging close to our heads, making us duck. The ground itself seemed to coarse and ebb with the force of the winds, the fallen leaves blowing up from their resting places. As I came within a few feet of the exit, I began to yell, as if to let the bush know that I had escaped it.

"But the Bush yelled back.

"As we burst out onto the field, a sound roared from the center of the bush. As I had mused earlier about an all powerful switch controlling the sounds of the bush, It was like it was suddenly flipped on. Howls of all types shrieked into the air. Birds screamed and cawed in unison. Voices seemed to speak in gobbledygook; laughing and taunting us. Screams seems to emanate from every tree and plant. We ran. We just kept running. We ran all the way down the field to the oak tree and that's when the sound finally stopped, the switch turned back to off. It didn't matter, we kept on going towards the car. The sight that greeted us made us stop dead in our tracks.

"All the doors were open. The trunk was open and the hood was up. Everything inside the car was gone."

Mr Lobos cleared his throat and drank from a water bottle that he had produced from his trench coat.

"And that all happened in this bush."

The group exchanged looks of abject horror. I tried to tell Mr Lobos that I was not going in there, but I couldn't find my voice. Shawn spoke before I could.

"What did your brother see?"

Upon hearing Shawn's inquiry, Mr Lobos took a deep breath, his frame expanding as his lungs filled. He turned to face Shawn.

"I don't know. But lets get moving."

He spun around and started into the Bush.








Now for the third installment,. Check out part 1 and part 2 if you haven't already.



Mr. Lobos began to tell us the tale of his first time out there.

"I'd gone to the will reading of my grandfather and had been given my ultimatum. I thought it was kind of silly, but I decided to see to it that his wishes would be fulfilled. So, that night, I rounded up a group of my friends and drove out to the bush. My contingent comprised of a few friends and my brother.

"Following a map that was given to me at the will reading, we drove out and parked out front of the bush, not in the hidden parking spot. As we piled out of the car, I checked over the gear that we had brought. Two flashlights, each with the bulb covered with a red gel, so it would only shine out in red light. That was important because the red light would not destroy our night vision. We got into a single file line, myself in the lead and my brother in the back. We, like you just did, walked down into the gully and to this tree. The map that lead us here also had a map of the trails in the bush. Looking at it, we decided to enter on Lower Trail.

"As we walked in, the bush itself seemed to breath around us. There was no real wind, none of the tree tops were swaying, but leaves and branches seemed to move around us. a few times we stopped when we thought we heard something, but even with our flashlights, we couldn't pinpoint where the sound was or what was making it.

"We had been walking into the bush for about 10 minutes when we came to a rise in the trail which dropped down into a clearing. The clearing itself was about 10 meters long and about 4 meters at it's widest. The canopy opened up and allowed the moonlight to pour in and wash over the trail. When we walked over the hill and to the entrance of the clearing, the flashlights went out. I took my flashlight and hit it against my hand a few times, only getting a few flickers of light as a result. It was dead. I stopped the group and found out the same had happened with the second flashlight in the back. I wasn't immediately concerned because the moonlight lit the trail well enough to get through. Suddenly, we heard a twig snap behind us. We all turned to the sound. I said hello into the darkness.

"Silence was all answered back. I turned back to clearing and gasped.

"There was a figure standing at the opposite end.

"It was a man. Very tall.and slender. He stood with his hands at his sides and with his head hanging down. He was completely clad in white. White pants, shirt and what looked to be a white labcoat. Eerily, his skin matched the paleness of his attire.

"The rest of the group had by this time turned back and noticed the man. Whispers and muttered swearwords hit my ears from behind. I didn't move an inch. I stood there and stared at the man in the labcoat. No one moved for about 3 minutes. I finally found my legs and took a step forward to confront the mysterious man.

'I said 'hello'.

"No response.

"I asked 'Who are you?'

"No response.

"I then took another step forward. The moment my foot touched the ground, we heard another twig snap behind us, closer this time. Reflex commanded us to orient on this new stimulus. Nothing was there. We turned back.

"The labcoat guy was now standing in the center of the clearing.

"We scurried back a few meters. There was no way that man could have moved that quickly! There were no footsteps or russeling of underbrush to be heard. Something definitely was not right here. In a show of bravery, I stomped a few steps closure to the labcoat guy. This time I yelled.

'WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!'

"The man didn't move. A scream behind me nearly scared me to death.

"My brother was screaming and had fallen, trying to scramble away from us. My friends were terrified for a moment, but rushed to grab a hold of him. It was the last thing we needed to chase a frighten man through a pitch black forest. Especially when we're confronted by a labcoat-wearing stranger. I started to run towards my brother but when I saw that my friends had him, I turned back to see what our mysterious stranger was up to.

"I was not prepared for what I saw.

"As I turned back to face the man, be began to raise his pale, bald head. The moonlight was caught by the whiteness of his skin and seemed to glow. The man had two beady, black eyes, almost directly in the center of his forehead, close together. The only other feature on this man's face was a thin, black line that started at his left temple, dipped down around the bottom of his face and looped back up to his right temple.

"I covered my mouth and groaned.

"The man grinned. The black line was his mouth! Slowly the line split apart and revealed jagged and blackened teeth, spanning the entire length of his misshaped mouth. It's head then tilted to the side. I took a step back, unable to believe what I was seeing. It then started to walk towards me. But it moved so strangely, like a sequence filmed in reverse and then played forward, the labcoat guy jerked towards me, unnaturally, without a sound, his eyes staring into me. I froze. I then witnessed something that i'll never be able to explain.

"The labcoat guy stopped, turned profile and then bent over. But not at the waist. The thing bent at its chest and then folded down in on itself, morphing into a white wolf. Looking at me briefly, the wolf then ran off the trail and into the bush.

"The flashlights flickered back on.

"Not wasting a second our group got to its feet and ran out of the bush, tearing the red gels off the flashlights. Panic gripped us as we navigated the twists and turns in the trail. Finally after what seemed like forever, we emerged from lower trail and ran towards the oak tree. The group, encouraged by the sight of this landmark, ran faster toward the road and to the car. We started to climb the slope back to the road when I slipped and slid down the gully. As I came to a stop, I looked up and saw my friends all standing, their backs to me. Why had they stopped? Getting to my feet, I climbed up the hill to see what had made them stop.

"It was the car. When we had entered the bush, I had made sure that I locked the car. I knew that the chances of anyone coming out here to rob my car would be slim, but it was force of habit. However, that didn't seem to matter. All the doors where open. The trunk was open, the hood was up and everything that was inside of the car was gone. Backpacks, the spare tire, a case of beer, even some wrappers that where on the floor were gone. We didn't care. We all rushed towards the car and got in. Slamming my foot on the gas, we tore out from the shoulder and shot back home. We interrogated my brother as to what happened. His response was unsettling.

"I asked him what had happened out there. He looked very apprehensive, but answered me. He told me that when I had yelled at the thing, whatever it was, that thing had said his name. And when he heard his name, he just felt so terrified, so afraid. He just had to get away from it.

"The entire ride home occurred in silence. No one had heard anyone's name being said."

It was here when Mr Lobos stood up and stretched. I looked around at my friends. All of them hadn't take their eyes off of him. I looked back at him too. As he stretched all his limbs he crouched back down and looked at me. He was about to continue with his story. He turned his head and looked down towards the beginning of Lower Trail.

"Now here's where it gets interesting"








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...
Photo








Don't read this is if you're looking for a laugh. This is the set-up for something much larger. I'm breaking it up because To write it all at once would be fail.. Again, don't read this unless you're interested in the slightest.

I'm known on here so far as a writer of funny, over the top, silly-bastard stories. It's funny really, that I only just recently started to write as a recommendation from a doctor of mine to help relieve stress. And It's done wonders. The feeling of creating a work of art is pretty fucking bitchin. Plus the comments make me feel good lol. But as I have discovered I have this talent, I want to experiment and deviate from my usual story fare. In what will be in a few parts, I'm going to tell you about a true to life experience I once had that has changed my perspective on life in general. It's aiming more for suspense so bear with me. Enjoy.



When I was in high school, I had one teacher that I got a long with really well. We'll call him Mr. Lobos. Anyway, one day in his class, he came to me and asked me to see him after the period was over. In my head I tried to think of what I may have done to deserve a candid talk with him. I had handed in all of my assignments, I was on time everyday that week, I couldn't figure it out. I would soon learn why.

As the lunch bell rang, I stayed behind the group and waited . He stood by the door until the last student had left, and turned to me. His hand still on the door knob, he locked the door, and sat down at his desk.

He then began to tell me story in great detail. To sum it up, apparently 20 years ago, his grandfather had died, leaving him a plot of land in the will. It was a tract of bush that had trails all through it and a campsite. Mr. Lobos was more than pleased to hear that he had received this inheritance. However, there was a clause in the will that gave him some discomfort. For him to claim the property, he would have to go to the bush that very night and walk through it with a group of friends after dark. A strange request indeed, but Mr. Lobos was keen to honour his dead grandfather's wishes. Since then, he told me, he's taken students out there. At night. And they would hear things and see stuff that didn't add up. It wasn't normal what happened out there.. And to top it off, he pointed at me and said he wanted to take me out there that very night.

The very first thing that popped into my head was that I would be horribly anal raped and murdered, and maybe not in that particular order, if I went into a dark, spooky bush alone with this man. Although he was a trusted teacher of mine, all bets are off when someone approaches you with an offer like this. The creepy thing was that it seemed like he had dealt with students coming to this same conclusion. He chuckled slightly and told me to go get a group of my friends to come tonight so I would feel safer with numbers, and to meet him back here after school.

I slowly walked into the Students Council room and sat down. I looked around the room and decided that the group of people here were as good as any. My friends Shawn, Katie, Erica, and Phil were all sitting in the room and had their eyes on me. I began to tell them about Lobos' offer. They all immediately came to the same conclusion of anal rape as I had. But, I was now curious about this mysterious "bush" he talked about. Granted it could be a metaphor for his pubic hair, but that was a chance I was willing to take. After a few minutes I managed to convince them to join me in Lobos' room after school.

The bell rang, marking the end to another school day. I rushed straight from my last class to Lobos' room and was greeted by the rest of the group. Knocking once, we entered the room. Lobos was already there, standing, over looking his desk. It was silent as we walked in and straddled desks, sitting to hear what he had to say. He told the group essentially what he had told me. As I glanced around, I could see the curiosity growing in the faces of my comrades. They were in. Lobos noticed this too and grinned. He then told us to meet him at the rear parking lot at dusk.

9'o'clock had rolled around and the sun was all but set. Our group sat on the cement steps leading up to the rear entrance to the high school from the student parking lot. We had been waiting here for a half-hour and had not seen nor heard of Lobos. Attempts at breaking the silence all ended in failure. Everybody was too tense, thinking about what was about to happen. I surveyed the horizon, the sun now had disappeared behind the buildings, the sky cast upon with a blood red colour. The moon was now rising opposite of the sunset, it was full and had caught the light of the dying sun. It was a deep shade of orange. The sight itself gave me chills. I suddenly heard the screech of tires and snapped my head to the sound.

A minivan had just tore into the parking lot, spraying an arc of gravel as it drifted around the corner. It fishtailed slightly and then set it headlights directly on us, the engine roared as it accelerated and shot forwards. Like a deer in the head lights, I froze, not knowing what to do. My friend Phil had just grabbed my sweater and was attempting to pull me out of the way, when the van hit the breaks, turned and squealed to a stop in front of us, the driver's side door directly ahead of the group. The door opened and a figure emerged. it was Lobos. He was wearing all black clothing, with a black trench coat, a black toque and black face paint under his eyes. I had flashback to my earlier thoughts of rape and murder and gulped.

"Get in" was all he said.

Regaining what little was left of my courage I was the first to approach the van. Being the instigator of this trip, I chose shotgun, allowing my friends to huddle in the back. As I opened the door, I looked in and surveyed the van. There were blindfolds on every seat. I stood back and looked to the others. They had not moved an inch. I can only assume that they were waiting to see what I did. Clearing my throat, I told them to hurry up and climbed in. I picked up the blindfold, but did not put it on yet. The others gingerly got into the van and began to question the intelligence of this decision. The blindfold pushed everyone out of their comfort zone. Lobos re-entered the van, looked at each of us, then told us to put on the blindfolds. He then turned to the wheel and started the van.

Taking a deep breath, I raised the blindfold up and tied it around my head. My heart rate began to climb.

I heard Mr. Lobos put the van into gear and felt it pull away. It felt the dip as the van pulled out of the gravel parking lot and onto the paved road. In my head, I tracked our position with my mental map of the area. I think we were at the town limits, heading east when I thought to ask him a question. A question that would be meet with an answer I wasn't prepared for.

"Mr Lobos," I started, my voice cracking slightly, "where are you taking us?"

"No talking"

His only response creeped me out. I then heard a click and the rising sound of static. Mr Lobos had turned the radio on and had turned it to an empty frequency. I was now effectively blind and deaf. Panic was slowly starting to well up inside of me.

We drove eastward out of town for about 20 minutes. I knew the road well and recognized dips and turns. I strained to memorize the route, just in case my initial suspicions of buggery were correct. We had been driving without stopping for a while when he suddenly began to slowdown. Thinking hard, I guessed we were at a little intersection that was the site of a small village. As we came to a stop, I tried to move my blindfold slightly, slowly raising my hand up my side. Mr Lobos must have seen me, He grabbed my arm. I barely heard him over the static.

"No peeking."

The van then turned to the left and accelerated. We drove in this new direction for a couple minutes when we then slowed, turned right, and I heard the telltale crunch of tires on gravel. I now had no clue where we were. We followed the road slowly. The road was hilly as I could feel the change in elevation several times. The van shook with the occasional pothole. I was beginning to become genuinely afraid. Finally the Van slowed again and turned right, continued for about 100 meters and then turned left. The surface beneath us sounded crunchy. We came to a complete stop and Mr. Lobos turned off the van.

"We're Here."

I took off my blindfold and gasped at the sight.

To be continued...