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.
Plain and simple, I am jealous of all this sweet, sweet Destructoid love south of the border and I want in. I figure I've got 8 months exactly to get my shit in gear and make it out to Seattle. My plan is to find a gaming sponsor of some type and chronicle the entire road trip out, the PAX itself, the presumed multiple Dtoid after parties and then the road trip back.
To bring a much needed dose of Canadian reinforcements to the Dtoid army unit that will be in operation at the PAX event. I will be bringing a fellow Dtoider with me and wil be willing to pick up two others and even form a convoy with other Canadian Dtoiders. I will be posting subsequent postings for more info if you are interested!
I'm going to be starting out from my house in Guelph, Ontario, Canada. I will meet up with any and all Dtoiders from Toronto that want to start a convoy and head out. The course will take us on an epic road trip that will span across Canada along the Trans-Canada Highway, get to Vancouver, then head across the border and make our way to Seattle. The official route will be posted in a couple days.
I will be travelling more than 5000 km to meet this goal. It will take about 3 days of constant driving to get there. I will be recording video, taking pictures and writing about the experiences the entire time. I only intend to get myself, my best friend and two more people to Seattle, anyone else will have to provide their own transportation and is more than welcome to join the convoy.
Get to PAX on time for the entire expo, get together with as many Dtoiders as possible and for myself, shake Niero's hand. And have a shitload of fun.
From now on I will be posting updates on my progress and the roster of who ever wants to join. We've got 8 months and this will take a lot of planning to orchestrate properly. Msg me if you'd like more info and to make plans. See you at PAX in '09!
Final Fantasy VII was my introduction to the FF series and it was the first game I bought when I picked up the good ol' ps1. Shit hit fabric when I put it in and saw the mind-blowing graphics, and shit continued to seep into the fabric as I was too enthralled with the storyline to bother cleaning myself. I think FF7 has had a huge impact on me and is one of the main factors that made me take an interest in writing and storytelling.
2. I smoke pot.
I'm not going to praise the benefits of it, or shove it in your face. You either smoke it to or you don't. I however find it deliciously awesome.
3. I reached my weight goal of losing 50 pounds a month ago.
Basically, I started to eat healthily and not go overboard on snacks and fast food. And I went to the gym. It was difficult and slightly embarrassing at first (I got winded very easily, and I would often notice women giggling at my attempts at exercise, fucking bitches) but with the help of a really good gym buddy, I kept going regularly and even had a date with one of the women that had previously laughed at me (she was a bitch anyway and I left her at the restaurant to pay the bill).
4. I cannot get enough old school Star Trek.
Come on. William Shatner makes me laugh so hard with his over acting. And his two best friends is a tight-ass conservative (Spock) and a drunken liberal (McCoy). Could also be attributed to the 2nd thing you didn't know about Tehmtnlion.
5. My moniker was actually one of my worst fears as a child.
When I was a kid, my dad liked to mess with my head. For example when I was 6, he convinced me that there was only one mountain lion on the entire planet, that it was omnipotent, and it was hungry for my flesh. I would sometimes think that I had seen it and would delve into panic attacks, afraid that those moments would be my last. It took me two 3 years to shake my fear of that The Mountain Lion is everywhere. Once I was introduced to online fps', I knew that I would share the fear of the omnipotent mountain lion upon my enemies and so far, so good.
6. I practice Iaido and a few other Japanese Sword Techniques.
I read a lot and when i was about 14 I started to read a lot of eastern philosophy. Most namely, I read Sun Tzu's The Art of War, The Hagakure, The I-Ching, and several miscellaneous pieces of samurai literature. Since then, I have studied these texts in hopes of doing my thesis on samurai culture. As a side effect, when I went to Japan when I was 18, I bought a handcrafted katana which has brought me hours of joy and peaceful meditation in my martial art. I strongly believe that everyone should learn about the way of the samurai and their outlook on life. I live my life around this one creed of their:
"Every decision, regardless of scope and detail, should be made in the span of 7 breathes"
7. I once stole a monkey from the Toronto Zoo.
I'm writing a story about it to give you all the details. It was fucking glorious.
8. I am distrustful of Mennonites.
I have never trusted a group of people that blatantly refused to use any of the advances that we enjoy. It's unsettling and it makes me think that "the Minges" are up to something. Until I have figured out what exactly these bastards are up too, I will continue buying their delicious fresh produce in an attempt to learn more of their culture and infiltrate their society, enabling me to destroy it's core.
9. I have Kinemortophobia (fear of zombies).
I am absolutely serious when i say that I believe that the undead will rise up and start to eat the world. This fear has caused me to do extensive research on the subject (I submitted a paper in one of my history courses for the final project on zombies which was over 75 pages, single spaced, 12 font. I got 100%) I have since then created a bug out plan that I am certain that it will allow me to survive and escape to safety. I'm in the midst of rewriting my paper for publication.
10. I just moved into my new place today.
It's awesome and my housemates all rock. The move is why I've been absent from posting stories (for those who care) but now that I'm in and established, I'll start the beast back up and give you some more mind candy.
Well, since the economy has robbed me of a job, I've had way more time on my hands than usual, I've been turning to the Internet to entertain me. Since joined D-Toid and writing a few short stories, I feel confident enough that I can start contributing an unofficial weekly segment that brings you, a member of the D-Toid Army, an ego-boosting tale of majesty written by yours truly.
Although I don't have the mad drawing skills of Mikey and other prominent artists in our community, nor do I have the street cred to be on one of the community podcasts, I can weave words that will bang your eyes cross-eyed. Check out a few of my stories if you'd like a taste. Here's my idea.
Submit an idea for a story that includes yourself. You'll need to include a place, a problem and a character trait that you have.
I'll take any and all submissions into account, choosing the one idea that appeals most to me. Keep in mind that the crazier the scenario, the more likely I'll be to write about it.
Ok people, finally the end to our story. For those of you who have been reading this, thank you for the comments, it's been fun to write this. Enjoy the last part!
I looked around at the group. Even in the almost total darkness, I could see them all with shocked looks on their faces. Mr. Lobos was still staring at the shack. My gaze drifted over to the shack. I could see it all now. The doorway, the main room, and the bedroom. I got to my feet and turned on the light, I had to see for myself. Someone asked what I was doing but I didn't answer. I walked in through the doorway.
The main room's roof was still intact. I looked around it and tried to imagine what it might have looked like back in the time of the story. There was a old fireplace on the far wall. I swung my flashlight to the right and looked through the doorway. That was the room that had the wall fall in. That was the room the little girl was killed in. I turned to the left and saw the door to the master bedroom The door was falling off it's hings. Between the space of the door and the frame i could see into the room. There was some kind of dark stain against the wall. i shuddered at the thought of what it could be. Looking back into the main room, I saw the doorway leading to the cellar. I walked up to it, grasped the doorknob and i pulled it open.
I shone my flashlight down.
I slowly closed the door and walked back out to the group. Shawn and Phil were waiting for me at the door. Shawn spoke to me.
"So, what did you find?"
I stumbled past him and sat back down on the bench. Katie and Erica came to my side and asked if I was ok. I looked at the ground, oblivious to the voices around me. Mr. Lobos called everyone back to the benches.
"I know what he saw," Mr. Lobos stated, "He went looking for some proof to the story and found it. He saw the chains in the cellar."
This caused me to look up. I stared at Mr. Lobos. For some reason, I was mad at him. Mad for him bringing us out here, most likely. I was terrified at the same time. I just wanted to scream at him, to unleash my feelings of frustrations of not being able to comprehend what was going on in this bush. I started to feel sick to my stomach. Mr. Lobos told us that we would stick around for a while and see if anything happened.
For 20 minutes we sat mostly in silence. A couple times, someone thought they had heard something and pointed it out, but each time nothing was found or heard after. We started to talk again, the feelings of terror slowly started to subside and we started to joke and talk again. Eventually, I joined in too. We talked about the Paris Hilton sex tape again, this time commenting on the film quality. It was getting fairly in depth. It was here when I realized that Erica hadn't said anything in a long time. I looked over to her. She was staring straight up into the tree tops.
I said her name. No response.
I said it again. Still no response.
This had gotten Mr. Lobos' attention. He got up from his seat staring at Erica. He moved over to the start of the path back down to Upper trail and stood against a tree. I said Erica's name again and grabbed her arm. She screamed.
She immediately got up to run but Mr. Lobos was there to stop her. He had seen what was happening and had bet that this would play out. Flailing in his arms, the group ran over to help hold Erica back. I pointed my flashlight up into the trees and turned it on. To this day I don't know what I actually saw, but there and then, I was certain I saw a small foot disappearing up into the branches. Not taking my eyes or the flashlight off the tree tops, I started to back away from the benches.
"Mr. Lobos," I called out, "We gotta go! NOW!"
With me leading the way I ran down the path to Upper trail. As I burst out from the ceder trees, I swept my flashlight down both directions of the trail. Something darted off the trail and into the bushes. It made the two-foot sound. I shouted for them to hurry up. Finally everyone was back on the trail when we heard wood smash and splinter back up at the shack. The sound was followed by loud footsteps on the hardwood floors and onto the earth. Something was following us! We started to run.
We ran for about 10 minutes before the footsteps stopped. We ran a bit more to make sure we weren't still being followed. When it was clear that we weren't the group began to question Erica in hushed tones.
"What did you see?"
"Are you alright?"
"Erica, what was it?"
Mr. Lobos was the last to speak. We all remained silent as he went to the back of the group and seemed to stare into the darkness. He came back to the lead.
"Alright, let's keep going. Slowly though. Luke, turn off your flashlight."
I reluctantly obeyed.
We started to walk as we had when we first entered on Lower trail, with me in caboose. Although I heard sounds around me, I didn't bring any of them to the attention of the group, I just wanted to get out. Everyone else seemed to have the same idea. No one asked the group to stop even though there were many sounds emanating from the Bush. I was just beginning to feel hopeful when I bumped into something.
It was Phil. For some reason he had stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn't said anything and the rest of the group was continuing on.
"Come on Phil," I said, "the group's still going and I don't want to get lost."
It was then when I looked at his head. He was staring to the right, down the slope. I squinted to see he face. His jaw was dropped and his eyes were wide. I followed his eyes down the hill and saw something that to this day still gives me nightmares.
I saw a pair of vivid, glowing yellow eyes. Since there was no light, the colour was burning in the eyes themselves. It was the same hue as the numbers on an digital alarm clock. I became frozen to the spot. They were far away, still at the bottom of the hill. In my head I was screaming, but that was all I could do. My body was unable to move, my vocal cords were paralyzed After what seemed to be an eternity, I managed to gather enough saliva to clear my throat. I screamed for Mr. Lobos. The eyes began to move.
With my scream echoing around us, the eyes had begun to approach us with the same speed of urgency that I had called out with. I started screaming in terror as I saw this. To make it worse, the sound of the two-foot was attached to it. Its feet shuffled through the underbrush, flying up the hill, a seemingly impossible act in itself as the slope was very close to being a sheer drop off. The eyes were about 2 meters away when Mr. Lobos appeared.
He ran out from the darkness and threw a rock at the thing. The rock soared past Phil and I and went right for the eyes. The next thing I saw was unbelievable. The rock "hit" it right between the eyes. The eyes split apart about 4 inches, then shot off into two different directions. I stopped screaming, shocked by what I saw. Phil broke the silence by puking.
"What was that?" He asked when he was done heaving.
"A sign for us to go," Mr. Lobos answered.
We turn the flashlights on and started to run. We quickly found the rest of the group and started to head for the hill. As we ran, I could hear the the two-foot thing still in pursuit. The trees were starting to reveal more and more of the night sky. It was easier to see. We rounded a bend in the trail and in the flashlight's beam i could see two bridges one after another. We were so close to the exit! Our feet hammered down on the bridge as we ran over it. As we hit the second bridge we heard the two-foot thing cross the bridge as well. I looked back.
There were the eyes.
I started to scream and ran harder, the group must have looked back as well because they all started screaming and running faster too. We hit another bend in the trail and then at last I saw it. The exit. The moon was lighting the exit, it's rays pouring in through the opening. As we ran, a wind built like in Mr. Lobos' story, It was gentle at first, but as we ran it built, pushing us back. My clothing rippled against my body with the force of the wind. The trees and plants around us waved like water around us. With the last of my adrenaline, I pushed against the wind and burst out onto the field, escaping the confines of the bush. I ran about 50 meters out before I stopped. Breathing heavily, I turned around and was met by the rest of the group, each of them out of breath. I looked at the exit. The eyes were there, seemingly imprisoned within the darkness, unable to go into the moonlight. Slowly the eyes retreated into nothingness.
The feeling of fear began to dissipate and i started to laugh. My laughter echoed over the hill and into the Bush. I was joined by my friends. We all started to shed off the burden that we had felt for the past few hours. Mr. Lobos brought our attention back to the matter at hand and we started to walk back towards the van and for home.
As we walked back to the van I felt more and more relieved to be out of the Bush and to be alive. We walked back up the gravel road in quiet contemplation. Erica broke the silence.
"Mr. Lobos, I think you should know what I saw."
Mr. Lobos stopped and turned around.
"What did you see?"
Erica looked into his eyes. It was apparent she had some difficulty thinking about it.
"Well, while we were all talking, I started to hear something up in the trees, just like your brother did in the story you told us. But, when I looked up, I saw...I saw..."
She began to tear up.
"I saw a little girl. She was wearing an old style lace dress and her hair was blond and in dreads. She was climbing down the tree towards me. Then she looked down at me, but instead of a face, there was only a black void, except...except for two rows of sharp, white teeth. And when Luke grabbed my arm, she said my name."
The entire group remained silent, everyone was looking to Mr. Lobos.
"Thank you, Erica," he said, "but lets keep moving we need to get to the van."
We continued walking in silence. I kept looking over my shoulder to see if the eyes were still following us. I didn't spot them, much to my relief. I was just feeling like normal again when turned off the road and walked up to the van when I bumped into the group in front of me. They had all stopped. I took a step back and looked ahead of them. It was the van.
All the doors were open. The trunk was open and the hood was up. Everything inside the car was gone. My backpack was in there when we left, but now it was missing.
"What in the fu-," I start to say. But Mr. Lobos' grunts interrupted me.
He pulled off his face.
It was Mr. Sadistic. And he was holding a jar of anal lube.
Alright people! We're nearing the close of our story. Only a few posts left! I know you'll enjoy this one. It's a bit longer to make up for yesterdays short post.
"This story takes place back when Canada was still split into 'Upper' and 'Lower' Canada. Back when there was no internet, no hydro and limited luxuries. It was a simpler time where people depended on each other more. You knew everyone in your community.
"The community in this story is the very same that is a few minutes east of here. Back then, it was a lumber town, a main settlement that was the hub of several lumber mills. In this town there were the standard amenities that every town back in this era would have. There was a church, there was a general store, a baker, a mill and, most importantly to this story, a butcher.
"A butcher's role in a community back then was a crucial one. He provided all of the meat to the community. In a time of self-sufficiency and a lack of supermarkets, you can begin to appreciate the value.
"The butcher was a well respected man in the village. He was kind and generous to the townsfolk. He had a wife, a beautiful one at that. With her, he fathered two children. His first born was a boy. Since he was young, his father taught him his craft, for he would one day take over the family business. a few years later, the butcher's wife gave birth to a second child., a girl. She was well liked, the very essence of a youthful spirit.
"However, with the times, disease cast a very large shadow over humanity. Without the medical knowledge we had now, combined with very low hygiene, illnesses that we no longer fear were still very fatal to man as a whole. The butcher's son came down with a severe case of pneumonia at the beginning of a harsh winter when he was 16. Although the family and the community did all they could, the boy did not live to see the following spring. The butcher took it as well as he could, but since death was a much more common occurrence in this time, it was met with a kind of tolerance that has been lost in ours.
"The girl had turned 8 that year. She had changed slightly since her brother's death, they had been close. She was more solitary, more quiet. The butcher, however, was still a large part of her life. As she was his.
"But she was still just a part. Unknown to the daughter, his wife and the entire community, the butcher had a large secret. He had a mistress. In this time, the crime of adultery was a huge offense, in secular and canon law. The punishments for such an offense were harsh, so you can imagine the chance he was taking. To better his odds, he had built his mistress a cabin in the woods several kilometers outside of the village. He would bring her food and supplies when he came to consummate their torrid affair.
"There's another thing that we must realize about this time. There was no birth control. Without this fail safe, the butcher got the woman pregnant, around the same time as his wife was pregnant with his son Nine months passed for the pair with much anticipation. The butcher felt no shame, he would still care for this child, even though it was a bastard. The fateful night that the mistress gave birth was one that brought to life an atrocity. The child that she bore was horribly disfigured. A freak of nature. When the they pair had seen what they had created, they felt shame, fear and despair. But, instead of putting it out of it's misery, they decided to keep the child. They still both had to bear responsibility for their actions before the eyes of God.
"The life of the child was terrible. Even though he was born a man, he was treated like the most lowly animal. The cabin had a basement which was were he was kept. As a child, the door at the top of the stairs was simply locked. As he grew in strength and age, he was chained to the walls of the cellar. Even though he was fed a poor diet, his wretched shape had given him a genetic strength that was far more than any child his age. By the time he was 16, he had a muscular frame and had to be withheld with several iron chains. He hated his parents with all his being.
"With the winter that followed his son's death, the butcher had placed his daughter on a pedestal, giving her whatever she wanted. One day in December, the daughter came to her father and asked for a sleigh ride. The butcher happily agreed. Strapping the horses to the sleigh and bringing blankets to keep them warm, they headed out into the wilderness.
"Their trek took them far out from the village. They when along the roads at first, surveying the countryside, waving to the home owners as they passed. Then in the afternoon, the daughter wanted to see the forests. She wanted to see deer run throw the snow and listen to the birds in song. Again, the butcher happily obliged.
"Their journey took them fair into the wilderness. The winter snow had covered many landmarks The butcher didn't know where they were exactly, but he was relaxed, he had the know how to get them safely home.
"It was here that they smelled smoke. There was a house nearby! The butcher's daughter grew excited at the prospect of meeting someone all the way out here, the person probably not have seen anyone since the snow had fallen. She asked her father if they could go and find the house and greet the inhabitant. The butcher agreed.
"After a few minutes of searching, they found the house. As they approached they noticed a woman outside in front of the house chopping wood. By the time the came close enough for the woman to notice them, the butcher realized just where he was. He was at his mistress' house! As the mistress looked up, she too realized who had just arrived and the trouble that could follow. With a glance, the two knew that they would play it off as if they didn't know each other. The child bounded out of the sleigh and introduced herself. The mistress introduced herself in kind and invited them in.
"None of them had been paying much attention to the weather. An hour after they had gone into the cabin, a blizzard began to blow in and started to drop a large amount of snow. Realizing they could not return to the village in time before the whole brunt of the storm blew in, the butcher feigned a request to stay, knowing full well he could and secured the horses in a small stable attached to the cabin. The three had dinner and as the winter winds blew around them. Afterwords, the daughter was sent to sleep in the spare bedroom. When she was asleep, the butcher and his mistress left to their room and started to have sex.
"The boy had heard the entire night play out. He recognized his parents voices, but the knew one, the little girls, it filled him with rage. He learned that she was the butcher's daughter. Jealousy filled him. Why was she allowed to live and play, when he was denied those very things. He waited for them to do as they usually did. He heard them bid the girl goodnight, after reading her a bedtime story, a luxury he never had the pleasure of having. He cried, not out of sadness, but out of hate. Finally, he watched as the dust fell from the rafters, their footsteps moved to their bedroom and their disgusting act had begun.
"He would use the howling winds and their sounds of fornication to cover his own sounds of escape. Flexing his arms, he began to pull away from the walls, the chains growing taunt. The iron cuffs on his wrists began to cut into his skin, but he ignored the pain. It gave him strength. Through clenched teeth he cursed his parents and swore the he would be free. Finally, the chain broke around his arms. He pulled the chains around his legs loose.
"He was free.
"Slowly, he approached the stairs. He paused to listen to his parents. They were still violating each other, the pigs. He ascended the stairs and pushed against the door.
"The fools had forgotten to lock it.
"Taking care to make sure the door did not creak, he pushed the door open and looked around the cabin. The cabins fireplace was home to a dying fire, it's flames licking up eagerly over the glowing coals, it's light casting a wicked glow over the entire room. Shadows darted around the walls, showing sinister sides to every items true form. As he completed his scan of the room, his eyes came to rest on something that made him smile. The butcher's white apron and jacket. As he grabbed then to throw them into the flames, he inadvertently revealed the butcher's cleaver. An idea formed in his head.
"He put on the apron and the jacket, wretched the cleaver free from the cutting board and headed for his parents' door.
"He kicked the door open, catching the butcher and his mistress in the act. In a flash, he was above them on the bed. The butcher raised his hands to defend himself. With a roar, he brought the cleaver down on the butcher's head splitting it in two. As the mistress screamed in terror, the boy pulled the blade free, rolled the butcher off the bed and silenced the woman's screams with an arc of steel.
"The crash of the door had awoken the little girl. As she lay in her bed, she heard the screams of her father and the woman, the roar of a monster and a couple of thwacks that reminded her of her father's butcher shop. As any other child she did the one thing to make herself feel safer. She threw her blankets over her head, closed her eyes and listened.
"A roar of delight.
"The creak of the door.
"She opened her eyes.
"Through the sheets, she could see the form of the boy, the firelight flickering evilly against the walls behind him. He was still panting from the massacre in the bedroom. Seeing the quivering lump in the bed, he walked towards it, slowly raising the cleaver up in his right hand. He tore off the blankets.
"The girl was frozen in shock at the sight of this thing. It wore he father's apron and jacket and it was covered in blood and gore. She didn't cry out, she didn't cry. She just stared up into the eyes of the boy. The boy stood still, looking back into hers. He lowered the blade and sat down on the bed beside her. He then reached out and caressed her face, his fingers leaving a trail of blood on her cheek. 'Now you're like me' was all he said. He then got up and left the cabin. The girl sat there motionless.
"The next morning, the storm had blown itself out. The mistress had a friend in the village, the same village as the butcher. She and her friend had agreed that if there was a large blizzard like the one before, the friend would organize a posse to head out to her cabin and check on her. True to her word, the friend did just that. When the winds had died down, the posse headed out and into the forests.
"In a couple hours, they had arrived to the scene of a horrible, brutal murder. Seeing that the door was left open, they spurred their horses onward and quickly came to it. When they saw the blood around the doorway, they quickly got out their rifles. They ran inside and checked the entire cabin. As they discovered the corpses and the chains below. Wild theories began to form but a few things were quite clear. The butcher had a mistress, a scandal so heinous, it would destroy his wife and also, someone had been held captive down in the cellar for a long time. It was then when they heard a whimper.
"They ran to the sound and found the little girl, blood smeared on her face, now dried. The group decided that the killer may have left a trail or a clue. Two men stayed behind with the girl as the rest ran out to search for the murderer. The pair began to ask the girl what happened. Slowly she began to tell them about the night before. The two men could not believe what they had heard. They ran outside to warn the others of the boy.
"However, the boy was closer than they had thought. He was crouched upon the roof of the cabin, hidden from view, but he heard the entire conversation. She had betrayed him! Even after he had spared hers, she had given him up so that they would end his. Enraged, he leapt down from the roof and ran inside.
"The group heard the little girls screams and bolted back to the house. As they entered they saw this hulking mass clad in white butcher's garb, cleaving the little girl to bits. Rifles at the ready, they shot the boy dead."
The group was transfixed on Mr. Lobos. He leaned back on the bench and looked up into the treetops, then over to the shack.
This is a shorter "chapter" to my story, but it's necessary to keep the flow of things going. Enjoy!
Mr. Lobos' statement grabbed the attention of the group. We all looked at each other and looked to Mr. Lobos. Even though we had heard the story about the Shack, just they way he was saying the word "shack" made me uneasy. He had very simple names for everything in The Bush. It was all very creepy. But, since only knew the way out, we had to follow him. We reformed the line and proceeded.
Our pace had slowed, this part of the trail was very narrow. It didn't help that Phil was stopping us every 30 meters saying that he was hearing the two-foot sound. Even though we stopped, no one else heard it. M. Lobos told Phil that we needed to keep moving and to ignore it until we had got to the Shack.
After what seemed to be an eternity, Mr. Lobos finally turned on his flashlight and pointed it up the hill to the left, off the trail. He immediately found the path leading up to the Shack. It looked eerie. This part of the Bush was filled with Cedar trees, the path snaked up the hill between the rows of them. Mr. Lobos told me to turn on my flashlight and lead the group up while he stayed behind and kept his light shining on the path. Clicking it on, I moved up the group and started up the path.
As I walked up the path, I started to notice that there were things on the ground. When I realized what they were I stopped and gasped. They were bones! I yelled back to Mr. Lobos and told him what I had found. I heard him approach.
"They're animal bones," he said, "look at the skulls, the ribs. These were raccoons or something small like that."
His explanation wasn't comforting. There were a lot of skeletons, strewn about the path. The close we got to the Shack, the more there were. I noticed other strange items too. On the way up we had found a scuba mask, a bucket, a ski visor, and various other pieces of strange junk. But we carried on upwards. finally, the path opened up and revealed the Shack. It was quite a sight.
The Shack was in a state of disrepair. The wall facing back down to Upper trail had completely fallen in. the roof had caved in as well, some of the beams with one ends touching the ground. As I got closer I scanned the Shack with my flashlight. On the roof, someone had nailed 2x4s to it and up into the trees. Like the legs of a dead spider they went up into the tree tops, nailed to branches. It was remarkably symmetrical. Standing right at the fallen wall, I peered inside. I was surprised to see that the inner walls had recently been fitted with fresh drywall. I was confused. Who would do that to this shit heap?
The entire group was circled around the shack now, examining it's frame. As I walked around it, i saw some graffiti. Nonsense symbols and jumbled letters were all along it's outer walls. When i reached the wall opposite of the fallen one, I saw an elaborate design on the wall, crafted in red-tipped nail heads. I didn't recognize it at all.
Mr. Lobos was with us again. He called us over to the benches. I had to walk around the Shack to get back to him. The rest of the group had already sat down and I quickly ran over and sat between Katie and Erica. Mr. Lobos turned off his flashlight. I followed suit.
"And now, " Mr. Lobos began, "I have another story to tell you."