Okay, something else definitely happened.
Quick summary for those just joining: I’m an Army vet (did 3 years out of high school). My wife, Sarah, died 9 months ago, I quit my soul-sucking job, and my friend Rich offered to let me use his cabin for a few weeks while I figure things out. I went on a hike my second day here, felt a warm breeze like something exhaled on me, saw a shadowy humanoid figure in the trees, and had an uneasy feeling that lasted the rest of the night.
Got it? Good, moving along.
By the time I went to bed that second night, I felt fine. Well, as fine as I could be with Sarah’s death and unemployment looming over my thoughts. The rain storm had knocked a bunch of small branches down around the cabin, so I gathered those up in the morning. They’ll make good firewood. I didn’t go on a hike, as the rain had left a lot of mud, so I spent most of the day reading. I read a few /r/nosleep stories, but fantasy is my escape of choice. I’m reading “The Way of Kings” right now. More of a tome than a book, but really good.
A largely uneventful day, exactly what I needed.
I don’t remember what I dreamt about, but it left me tired. In the middle of the night, I felt the warm, wet breath again and bolted awake. I don’t know if I dreamed it or not, but my face definitely felt warm. I sat for a while. Something was off. It took me a few minutes, but I realized what it was: the world was silent.
I sleep with a window open, because I like fresh air and nature sounds help me sleep. But right then, I didn’t hear anything. No crickets, no owls, no distant snapping of old branches falling, nothing. It was unnerving.
I made sure my Springfield 1911 was sitting on my nightstand, then sat for a while, waiting for the sounds to come back.
I don’t remember how long I stayed awake, but when I woke up the next morning, everything seemed back to normal. Bird chirped, and leaves rustled. I had sausage, eggs and coffee for breakfast. With the smell of hot chow and old wood, I was in my own personal paradise.
Since the skies had cleared, and the ground dried, I figured today would be a perfect day to go explore some of those abandoned buildings. Thankfully, Rich’s Grandfather had an old topo map of the area. It didn’t show the buildings, but from what I remembered I would be able to find them.
The hike took me about two hours, but it was a good two hours. I passed a few small streams, and came across a small herd of deer in a clearing. I was able to get a few pictures before they noticed me and bolted away.
I reached the first group of buildings, the closest one to the cabin. About a dozen buildings made up the overgrown complex. They all had a similar style: lots of wood, with peeling red paint and white trim. I walked around the whole complex before going into any buildings, to get a feel for the place and figure out what it was.
Most the buildings were only one level. Three long, similar buildings ran along the north side, a three story building hugged the hill to the east and a large, warehouse or barn-like building occupied the center of the place. The rest were scattered around.
The background noise of the forest was a little too subdued, but I figured that was because of the buildings. Animals must find them strange.
I found several piles of decayed logs. One side of the complex had a small motor pool, with a few really old pickup trucks. Any decals had long rusted away. I also came across a good number of tools; hammers, saws, chains, that sort of thing. I’m pretty sure the place was an old lumber mill.
I entered the first building, one of the three on the north side. The windows had been broken a long time ago, and the wood floor had decayed. The nasty looking remains of mattresses covered two dozen old wire-frame beds. This must have been a bunkhouse. I found a small office, and two bathrooms, but nothing that interesting.
I skipped the next two bunkhouses, figuring I’d check them towards the end. As I was moving to the next structure, a sudden burst of cold hit me. It felt like a stiff breeze, but when I looked around, none of the plants showed any sign of being disturbed by anything significant. Despite having a good jacket on, I felt chilled to my core.
My heartbeat picked up pace, and the uneasy feelings started to return.
Despite the freak breeze, I decided to keep going.
The next building I entered had been a machine shop. Only a few tools remained, scattered across rusted workbenches. The floor in here was concrete, so despite a fair number of cracks, I had no fear of falling through anywhere. I did find a knife. I mention it, because the knife was really out of place. The rest of the tools were iron or steel, with half-missing wooden handles and cracked leather grips. The blade on this knife looked like it was made out of black glass, something like obsidian but without the wavy edge. This was a straight edge, and the handle was a deep purple, with these strange crimson lines across it like spider webs. I’m not sure what the handle is made out of, but I put it in my backpack. At the very least, it would make an interesting souvenir for the trip.
The next few buildings passed without anything interesting. Through all of them, I tried to find out some clue as to when the site had been abandoned. The pickup trucks looked like they came from around the mid 80’s, but they could have been new, or 15 years old used when they came here.
After two hours or so of exploring, I had only three buildings left. The first was the tallest one, with three floors. The next was a single story building with about the same footprint next to it, and then finally the largest building at the center of the complex.
The tall building turned out to be the offices. I found a few invoices that read “Black River Logging.” dated to 1985. I didn’t see any computers, or fax machines, so either they were taken when the place was abandoned, or those invoices were from the final years, if not the final year of this place.
The office was… unsettling. It looked like the place had been abandoned in a hurry. Papers were scattered about, a few desks had lunch boxes on them, and a few jackets hung on coat hooks. I found a break room and which still had food, very rotten food, inside the refrigerator. A bucket from some local fried chicken place sat on the table, a pile of clean bones inside.
None of the windows that I could see had been broken
For close to thirty years of abandonment, the place was in too good of shape. There should have been more signs of the abandonment than a thick layer of dust, some water damage, and a few sickly plants growing through the floorboards.
I carefully made my way up to the second floor, only to find more of the same: papers scattered, cleaned chicken bones, jackets on coat hangers, and one revolting, but very much present Twinkie.
Inside the building, the ambiance of the forest had died out completely. A pervasive, unnatural, silence filled the whole place. I could only hear my own breathing, and the creaking of the floor under my feet.
Making my way to the third floor, I found a small bathroom, a desk, and a door. The door was locked, so I gave it a few good kicks. Despite being decades old, it held up pretty well. After the deadbolt broke away and the quiet returned, I felt uneasy having made so much noise. Normally, when I go exploring like this, I don’t care so much about making noise, after all, no one is around.
I stepped through the door, and a number of things happened in quick succession.
First, I saw a bleached skeleton, sitting in a worn chair behind a large desk.
Second, in the window behind the desk, I saw a reflection of something behind me.
The shadow figure.
I saw it clearly. This was no trick of the light. A humanoid figure stood right behind me.
Third, before conscious thought even entered into my mind, I had spun around and drawn my 1911. That’s what years of training will do to you.
Fourth, the Shadow was gone, and the room was suddenly very dark. For a split second, I thought maybe the shadow had enveloped me, but I quickly realized no light was coming through the windows of the building.
Pulling out my flashlight, I moved to a window. The moon rose over the mountains in the night sky.
I entered the office building around two in the afternoon. It was now 9 pm. I’m not the quickest guy on the draw, but there is no way it took me seven hours to pull out my gun and turn around. This, more than anything else I’d experienced so far, unnerved the hell out of me.
Turning my flashlight on, the bright light blinded me for a moment. Honestly, I was afraid it wouldn’t work, just so I could fill out my “horror movie cliche bingo card.”
I really did not feel like sticking around much longer, but I also wanted answers before I ran with my tail between my legs.
I quickly scanned the office. The skeleton was gone, and there was writing on a wall, which either hadn’t been there before, or I hadn’t noticed. My first look in the room had been too short for me to say for certain. The writing was... distorted, or something. I recognized a few normal letters and some kind of resembling normal, but most of them were completely unrecognizable. Each letter stood about 2-3 inches tall, and was written in something dark. Cautiously, I touched one the letters, and the ink (or blood, yes I thought of that) flaked off and fell away, as though it had been there for a long while.
I think my initial shock passed at that point, because it suddenly hit me how stupid I was to still be here. I paused long enough to grab a black leather notebook sitting in a half open drawer, and booked it out of there. I didn’t see anything else unusual on my way out of the lumber mill, but then again I was intentionally NOT looking for anything.
I had a really bad feeling about taking the trail back to the cabin, since it wound through the woods, so I ran, following the overgrown dirt road out of the camp, hoping it would meet with an actual road.
After fifteen minutes, the overgrown dirt road reached a well used gravel one.
With the moon bright overhead, the wide road, and my flashlight still working, I felt safe enough to pause and catch my breath. Although was still far from calm, the unease from a few minutes, or I guess hours before had grown.
Luckily, I still had the topo map I took from Rich’s cabin. I oriented myself, and found that sticking to roads would take me about four hours to get back to the cabin.
I glanced back towards the lumber mill, and the trail there which would have me home inside two hours. The consideration lasted only a minute before I shuddered and looked away.
How had I lost seven hours?
Had I been frozen in place for the whole time? Or had I done something that I couldn’t remember?
I’d been following the road for about thirty minutes when a single, bright light and the sound of an engine too big for a motorcycle came up the road behind me. For a moment I considered ducking back into the forest, hoping that the driver hadn’t seen me. Before I could do anything though, red and blue flashing lights joined the headlight. The vehicle slowed, and the headlight dimmed.
I nearly laughed. After the events of the day, having a run-in with the police hardly seemed so bad. I heard a door open and close, and a figure stepped in front of the lights.
“Evening.” a woman’s voice said.
Realizing that I still had my pistol on my hip, I made sure my open-palmed hands were clearly visible, and away from the gun.
“Evening officer.”
“Thanks for the hands.” She chuckled, and her voice sounded a little more relaxed. “What are you carrying?”
“Springfield, Nineteen-eleven.”
“Nice gun. Would you mind pulling the mag? I like to be careful.”
I’ll admit, I hesitated. I’d just seen… something, and lost seven hours of my life. Having seen way too many horror movies, there were good odds that this officer was either a monster, to about to get dragged into the woods while I ran for my life.
But this wasn’t a movie, this was real life, and I’m not stupid enough to get shot by a cop.
“Of course officer.”
I dropped the magazine, but left the round in the chamber. Paranoia, better safe than sorry, call it what you will. I did it. I stepped to the side, so that the lights weren’t directly in my eyes.
The officer, stood about 5 foot 4, with red hair. Her hair reminded me of Sarah; she had red hair too.
“What’s your name?”
“Aaron, Ma’am. Aaron Wells.”
“Deputy Kelly, Sara Kelly.”
Sara, like my wife’s name. I felt a twinge of hurt, of loss.
“Mind if I ask what you’re doing out on this road so late, Aaron? We don’t get too many people out here.”
“I was doing a bit of exploring.”
I briefly considered excluding the lumber mill. Could I get in trouble? Could I trust her? My mind was still a little frazzled from what had happened. I decided to tell her about the camp, but not everything.
“I found the logging camp back there,” I pointed, “while on a hike. Meant to stay for an hour or so, but I guess I let time get away from me.”
Deputy Kelly chuckled, “Done that myself more than a few times in the forest. Never gotten too close to the lumber mill though. I grew up around here, so I heard the stories about the place.”
“Stories?” I asked.
“How about I give you a ride to wherever you’re staying, and I’ll tell you on the way?”
“I’m sure you’ve got a patrol to finish.” I said.
I’m a big guy, 6 foot 2, 230 pounds, and very little of that fat, but I’ll admit I was a little afraid of woman, nearly a foot shorter than me. I had just seen and experienced something freaking strange. I was in flight-or-fight, and had a lot of training kicking in about situational awareness and paranoia.
“Nah, I finished my shift about an hour ago. I heard someone was staying up at the old Brackenhouse cabin. Say, that wouldn’t happen to be you?”
That’s Rich’s last name.
“Guilty.” I smiled, “I’m a friend of the owner’s. He’s letting me stay there for a few weeks.”
“We’ll hop on in. I’ll take you right there.”
If something did go wrong, I still had the one bullet, and a knife. Even without those, I was a weapon in my own right.
“Alright.”
Stepping towards her police SUV, I noticed the massive damage to the right side of the vehicle, which explained the single headlight.
“What happened there?” I was honestly surprised the truck was running, let alone sounding fine. I could see into the engine compartment.
“Hit a deer a while ago. It still runs, and the department is a little strapped for cash, so we haven’t fixed it yet.”
As we drove, Deputy Kelly told me the local legends of the lumber mill. Apparently, the place had actually been pretty profitable, until it was abandoned in ‘85. No one from the local town really knew why, as all the loggers left in a hurry. Since then, ghost stories had arisen about the place: distant voices, glimpses of pale loggers, strange noises, the smell of fresh cut wood. One story interested me a little more. A decade ago, several kids went to explore the camp, and all four of them claimed that they’d lost several hours of time. Two of them have since disappeared.
I didn’t say anything about my own experiences. You all are used to this kind of stuff, but telling a cop I’m seeing shadow figures and having lapses in memory is not a great idea, especially with a gun on my hip.
She also told me about the other two clusters of buildings I’d seen. The one closest to the lumber mill, about a mile from it, is an old mine from the early 1900’s, and the other one is a pair of government buildings. She doesn’t know what they’re for, classified and all that.
I’m back at the cabin. Deputy Kelly dropped me off over an hour ago. I’ve followed a few of your suggestions. I couldn’t find much salt in the cabin, so I just laid a line outside the two doors into the cabin and my bedroom window. I’ll go into town later to get some more. I’m also leaving a few lights on around the house.
I’ve been thinking about /u/Itwalks comment on my first post. I’ve encountered this shadow figure twice now, and it hasn’t hurt me. I did have the time lapse, but I’m not injured, and I feel physically fine. Clearly something very strange is going on, but I’m not entirely convinced this creature is hostile.
The smart choice at this point would be to leave. But I want to know what’s going on, I can’t just leave without some closure, some understanding. I enjoy the unresolved endings in books, but this is my life.
I realize this may not be the safest course, but I feel like I’ve spent too much time staying “safe.” I stuck with that crappy job for years because it was “safe.” Sarah wanted to go on a trip to Europe last year, three months before she died, and I shot it down because it didn’t feel “safe” or comfortable. Plus, it’s not like I have much to lose right now.
Also, I still have that strange knife and the notebook I grabbed from the lumber camp. I’ll take a closer look at those tomorrow.
I’m done with safe. I want answers. I’m going back to the lumber mill, Deputy Kelly said she’d be like to go with me the day after tomorrow. I’ll update you with what I find.
Submitted June 30, 2016 at 03:03AM by rednaX_droL http://ift.tt/2960Mub nosleep
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