Just Creepy: Scary Stories - SCARY SKINWALKER STORIES FOR A SPOOKY SUMMER NIGHT | Terrifying Skinwalker Encounters

Episode Date: July 10, 2023

These are 2 SCARY SKINWALKER STORIES FOR A SPOOKY SUMMER NIGHT | Terrifying Skinwalker Encounters Linktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepy Story Credits: ►https://www.reddit.com/user/Zchaupt/ ���https://www.reddit.com/user/Lynthelia/►https://www.reddit.com/user/carlos-roca-/ Business inquiries: ►[e-mail] 💀As always thanks for watching! 💀

What they did to your family, you're lucky to make it out alive. Streaming on Peacock. These men are going to come after me. Taking them out. It's my only chance. Put a bullet in her head. From the co-creator of Ozark. Looks like a family was running drugs.

Execution style killing. It's rare for the keys. And it leads on who they might have been running for. The cartel killed my family. I'm going to kill them. All of them. MIA. Streaming now.

Only on Peacock. Resort and Casino at San Manuel is California's number one entertainment destination for today's superstars. Catch the Jonas Brothers return to the Yamava Theater stage on April 30th, the powerful vocals of Demi Lovato on May 17th and the signature Southern Country Rock of Eric Church on July 19th. Tickets on sale now at Yamavat Theater.com, only at Yamava Resort and Casino, celebrating its 40th anniversary. You in? Must be 21 to enter. Growing up in Arizona, myths and legends are part of life. Native traditions, mystic places, vortexes, UFO abductions, and dozens of other stories of the unknown that I always found fascinating. I grew up spending a lot of time wandering

around the desert and the mountains, hunting, camping, etc. So I felt very at home in the wilderness. One late spring day on one of my many hiking adventures, I wandered off the trail and after several hours came upon a small group of old mud adobe houses. A few people heard me coming and came out of the houses to investigate, and after apparently making the collective decision that I was not a threat, one of the elders dressed in old-style traditional native clothing and a headdress came over to greet me. The man spoke slowly and told me that I had wandered onto a Navajo reservation and asked me if I was lost, or if I needed help. When I told him no, I was lost, but intentionally, he chuckled and invited me in to eat with his family.

The next several hours were one of the great experiences of my life. The whole thing was like being thrown back in time. While we ate and talked, others from the surrounding houses began coming over to join us, and I got the feeling they didn't get many outside visitors. We shared stories for hours about life, family, their history in the area, and time spent in the wild, and the longer we talked, the more they opened up, and the more interesting the elder's stories got. Throughout the time there was one man who never spoke, he just sat out of the circle listening and watching me. At one point, I told them I did what I called my walkabouts every year

around September, where I would go out by myself into the wilderness for two to four weeks at a time, and this got the attention of the one silent old man. When I finished, he came over to the circle around the fire, sat directly on the ground in front of me, and asked me to join him on the ground. He told me that years ago he used to do the same thing, and went on to tell me about the canyon he went to. He described it as a dangerous but magical place, and that I would see the world differently if I came back. If, must be for dramatic effect. When he finished, he invited me over to his home. The house was small, and through an open door in the back room, I could see it was filled with various animal pelts, coyotes, and wolves mostly.

He walked over and closed that door, then picked up and handed me an old map and some written directions that seemed like he had been holding on to them for a long time, and just walked away into that back room and closed the door behind him. It was late, and one of the families had invited me to stay the night, which I gladly did. The next morning, as I prepared to leave, one of the old women came over to me with something in her hands, handed me a talisman and simply said, dip your bullets in the white ash at the hottest part of the fire, then just walked away. September came, and as I packed for my walkabout, I saw the talisman in a drawer, and something felt right about taking it with me. After a beautiful drive, I was very happy to find the Forest Service road marked on the old map. The entrance to the area was remote and overgrown, and tough to get to even in my Jeep, and took me much longer to get to than expected,

so I decided to make camp and start the hike in the more than the morning. After a few hours on a trail that looked like it had been forgotten, I came to a stream and the entrance to the secret valley. It was a narrow crack in the tall cliffs, with about four feet of water running gently through, but too narrow for a kayak or canoe. I hoisted my gear over my head and began the wade sideways through the chest-deep water. The crack in the cliffs seemed to go on forever, but after almost two hours I came to the place where it opened up into a small lake in an incredible valley, surrounded by tall rock faces. This may have been the most remote place I have ever been, in the sense that there was no sign that people had ever been there.

No trash, no bullet casings, not even the evidence of campfires. My first night there was the quietest night I have ever spent in the wild. No birds, no frogs, not even crickets, but I didn't feel like I was alone there. In the morning, after breakfast, I headed out on my first exploratory hike to explore my my new home for the next couple of weeks. After being stalked by a mountain lion on a hike about ten years ago, I make a point of now bringing a pistol with me when I'm out wilderness hiking.

After some looking around, I found a narrow path that appeared to be a game trail that led up the side of one of the cliffs and towards what looked like caves from the canyon floor. I made my way up to them and came upon an entrance that was much larger than it appeared from below. I made some noise to alert any possible animals I was there and made my way inside. The cave was an expansive single chamber that went back a couple of hundred feet. As I walked, I inspected as much as I could see with my light, but there were no tracks of any kind in the dirt besides mine. So I decided I was alone in there and pushed on toward the rear of the cave.

As I came around the last bend in the cave and approached the end, my headlamp panned across a large pile of bones, some animal, some human, and a very old-looking, small candle sitting on a natural stone shelf. This is the first thing that has scared me in as long as I can remember. But focusing my wits, I remembered that there were no other tracks in the cave, and figured it was all from a long time ago. I was still a little uneasy as I exited the cave, and was ready to get back to camp. As I came out into the light, about 75 feet away,

there was the largest wolf I have ever seen that looked like it was coming down from standing. standing on its hind legs. It dropped down to all fours on a rock and just began staring at me, not growling or bearing its teeth, just staring. I pulled my 45 and fired two shots to the side of it to scare it away, but it didn't even flinch. Not only have I never seen a wolf in this part of northern Arizona, but I have never seen a wild animal that did not at least flinch at the sound of a gunshot. We both stood there staring at each other for a moment. I turned and set my backpack down to grab my binoculars and get a little closer look, but when I turned back, the wolf was gone. I made my way cautiously down the path back toward camp. I have encountered wolves before,

and usually it's not the one wolf you can see that should worry you. It's the ones you can't see, so I was extra cautious for the return trip. Back at camp, I made sure my gun was fully loaded and got my recurve bow strung just in case the wolves came back. I have seen plenty of predatory animals on my adventures. It's a part of being in the wilderness, so I wasn't too worried, just prepared myself the best I could, and went over to the lake to go fishing. Within about 20 minutes, I caught two of the biggest brown trout I've ever caught, so I decided to stop fishing for the day and take a swim. Back at camp, I made a fire, cleaned my trout, and made dinner while the sun went down. As soon as the sun went down, all of the life in the canyon seemed to go silent

again. As I put out my fire and prepared for bed, I noticed there was a small flicker of light coming from the area where the cave I had explored earlier up the cliffside, which didn't make sense. It was a moonless night, and stars don't reflect that way. It couldn't have been the candle I had seen. It was too old and would not have burned so bright. I decided to keep my gun close and try to get some sleep. I would investigate the cave again the next day. When I woke at sunrise, there was a haze along the ground throughout the whole canyon floor, but as the sun rose it disappeared quickly, and the area came back to life. I made my breakfast, gathered my gun and bow, and headed back up toward the cave.

When I reached the entrance, I saw there were still no tracks besides mine around the entrance, and decided to push up the hill further. Just a little further up, I came upon the entrance to another cave, much smaller than the first one. There was a small flat landing with a large, heavily twisted juniper tree that to my absolute surprise had many small objects hanging from thin, old-looking ropes tied to the branches. There were bones, but there were also old things definitely made by humans, and looked like they were old Native American artifacts.

Thinking I might have found the spot where the old man I met on the reservation had stayed when he was there decades ago, I went into the cave. This cave was much different from the first one. Just a few feet in, I noticed the walls were covered in what looked like ceremonial cave paintings. As I pushed further back, the cave got dramatically colder, much colder than it should have been, and the walls were completely covered with paintings the entire way. When I reached the back of the cave, I was not prepared for what I saw. There was what looked like an old altar made of wood and bones.

As I looked around, I saw that a little before the back of the cave, there was another shaft in the ceiling that went up, and on a ledge about 25 feet up sat the small figure of what appeared to be a woman. She was small and pale with her face painted white, and wearing something like a crown made of woven branches with two small antlers at the front. I stopped and stared for a few minutes, and the figure did not move, so I assumed that it was mummified remains from a long time ago. Not wanting to disturb a burial site, I turned to walk back out of the cave, but I began to walk. I heard what sounded like a faint voice in an unknown ancient language. I instinctively looked back up towards the figure, but it was gone. I was immediately terrified and ran from the cave as fast as I could get out, but my headlamp flickered and died. I made my way out, feeling along the wall to find my way, and the whole way I felt like there was something right behind me.

When I saw the first light from the cave entrance, I began to sprint towards it. Just before I made it out, I looked back, and there was nothing. so I slowed down, but I could still hear the faint voice, and the volume never changed. When I got outside, all the bones and artifacts hanging from the tree were gone. I ran down the path as fast as I could, headed back to my campsite by the lake. Just as I reached the floor of the canyon, I noticed the large wolf at the tree line to my left, but this time it stayed standing upright on its hind legs. I stopped running, hoping to not initiate its predatory response to chase me,

and again it just stood there staring at me. I reached my campsite safely and immediately began packing up. It was too late in the day to make it out before dark, and I did not want to make the hike out at night with all that was going on. I moved my tent so it would back up to the canyon wall by the crack in the cliffside, so I didn't have to worry about anything sneaking up behind me. I built my fire much larger and knew I wasn't going to get any sleep that night. Just as the sun was going down,

I began to hear noises coming from the trees, and I felt like I was being hunted. Finally, in the last light of day, I saw the wolf slowly walking around by where the path led out of the trees, and it began to slowly walk towards me. This time I drew my gun and fired toward the creature intending to hit it, and while I saw a couple hit the dirt around it, several bullets hit it. Several rounds from a 45 will at least slow down anything I've ever encountered, but this giant wolf kept walking towards me like nothing had happened. I continued to fire at it until the inevitable click of an empty magazine. I reached down and fumbled around in my backpack looking for my other magazines to

reload, and as I lifted it, the talisman the old woman gave me fell out onto the ground. I picked it up and put it around my neck, and immediately remembered what she had told me. Dip your bullets in the white ash. I looked around but didn't see my backup magazines, so I grabbed my bow. pulled an arrow that was tipped with a hunting broadhead and dipped it into the white ashes, drew and fired. I hit the creature just in front of its right hip, and it let out a noise somewhere between a growl and a person screaming that made my blood curdle. I can hear that noise in my head to this day. It immediately turned and ran back to the trees,

and in the flicker of the firelight, I saw the small woman with the antler crown standing there waiting for it. They both retreated into the trees, and for the rest of the night I could hear the same faint voice I had heard in the cave. I spent the night outside of my tent, as awake as I have ever been, but no longer afraid, and at dawn finished packing up so I could get out of that canyon. The next spring, I went back to the small group of houses on the Navajo Reservation I had found the year before. I was wearing the talisman as a necklace, and the first person to greet me was the woman who had given it to me,

and she ran up to give me a big hug. You heard me, was all she said. I asked the group about the man who had given me the map, as I was almost desperate to talk to him about the experience I had, so I could compare it to his own. They told me that he had disappeared shortly after I had visited them the first time and had not been back. Strangely, when I tried to tell them what had happened to me,

no one would let me tell the story, and the oldest man there who sat in the corner kept mumbling Skinwalker. We all once again sat and shared other stories, of life and a meal. Before I left the next morning, I found the old woman who had given me the talisman and offered it back to her. She smiled and told me I had a good heart, then just closed my hands around it, telling me to keep it to watch over my next walkabout. I went back to that small village on the reservation several times over the next ten years or so, till I moved to Oregon, but they never let me tell them what happened. I never went back to the canyon, and while curiosity

sometimes gets the best of me, I don't think I ever will. Back in my 20s, I was what you might call an adventurer. About ten years ago, give or take, something happened that changed that. I moved to the city, got a boring job in a boring apartment, and became decidedly averse to the outdoors. I haven't really told anyone about it in all that time, save my now wife, because, well, for one, they'd think I'm crazy, and for two, I don't want to think about it. I'm finally putting it here, though, because you all deserve to hear it. After all, you probably saved my life. At the time, I had just graduated college and moved from Texas to Alaska, out of a desire for, you guessed it, adventure. I had a job doing stuff I liked. It paid well and gave me enough vacation days to get out

and do something really adventurous every once in a while. One thing I'd had on my bucket list since moving north was driving the Dalton Highway. For the unfamiliar, that's a highway that's a highway that goes from Fairbanks to Pruto Bay on the Arctic Ocean. It's a 500-mile 11-hour drive in the summer, but thanks to work realities, I wasn't able to get out there until early autumn. By early autumn, the snow had started, but the plows were still able to keep the highway pretty clear, and I was driving a 95 Toyota land cruiser kidded out for expeditions. I loved that thing. Besides that, I was an adventurer. I was prepared. I had camping gear, emergency gear, a satellite phone, plenty of food and water, enough jerry cans for the trip there and back,

and Sam Colt's greatest invention in the center console, just in case. For the unfamiliar, that's the 1911. I was planning to make the trip in two days, sleeping in the back of the land cruiser halfway. I had enough blankets to keep warm, and I had a nice comfy space back there that I could fit in. I'd have to drive slower because of the snow. I wanted to enjoy the scenery, and the sun was setting pretty early. by that time of year. I had a good start that day, and the driving was fine. By the time crap went down, it had been dark for about an hour, and I was getting into the foothills of the Brooks Range.

That's good scenery, and also terrain I didn't want to be going through in the dark, so I was just about ready to pull over for the night when I saw caution flashers up ahead. For the unfamiliar, a hard rule for any Alaskan is that you always, always pull over when you see someone in distress on the side of a remote road like that, especially after the snow starts. If they aren't prepared for an emergency, there's a very good chance that you could save their life. So that's exactly what I did. I pulled over next to a Nissan SUV. Not as nicely kidded out as mine, but not bad either. I figured they were doing the same thing I was. Small world. By the jack under one axle and the wheel sitting next to the car, they'd blown a tire.

What I didn't see, though, were the people. I got out of my land cruiser, crunching down into the snow and looked around. There aren't a ton of trees that far north, but there are quite a few patches of evergreens that, while not quite forests, can be pretty dark and thick on a snowy night. Hey, I called, my voice going silent a few yards away, as sound does in snowy woods. Y'all need help? No answer. Complete silence, save the faint clicking over the flasher from inside their Nissan. I shouted again,

Anybody there? I've got tools. No answer. Silence. I considered myself a pretty brave person back then, but I'll admit that I was creeped out at this point. This vehicle definitely hadn't been here for all that long, but there was no one to be seen. Besides that, the total quiet and the darkness of the night were unnerving. It wasn't that weird for it to be silent on a snowy night like this, that far north, but still, creepy. creepy enough that I hopped back in the car, and grabbed my weapon, storing it in one of the big pockets in the front of my jacket, just in case. There were bears up there. I approached the Nissan and saw footprints in the snow, okay, not a ghost car. One pair had been crouched down at the removed tire, and the other had been

standing a couple of feet away by the rear of the SUV. The latter pair had then, at some point, headed off toward the tree line. It stopped a few yards down, paced around a bit, then continued into the woods. The pair near the tire had then, presumably later, gotten up and ran after the first. I was no tracker, but it's not hard to tell when someone was running in the snow. Now I was really creeped out. I was tempted to hop back in the car and keep driving for a good long while, but, like I said, this could easily have been life or death up there. Besides, I had my weapon. It could handle a grizzly, probably. That was the worst I'd find up here, probably. So off I went, following those two sets of footprints into the woods. It was really dark, but don't worry, I had a really nice

flashlight, sure fire. The complete quiet seemed to get even quieter as soon as I passed the tree line, as sound does in snowy woods. The only thing comforting me that I hadn't gone deaf was the sound of my breath and my boots crunching in the snow. Hey, I called again, maybe 20 yards into the woods. Is everyone okay? This time I got a response. It was a woman's voice, and it sounded afraid. Over here, it called, help. I got a spring in my step at that, jogging toward the sound of the voice, shining my light through the trees to try and catch a glimpse. Over here, it called again, much closer. Help! Remember when I said y'all probably saved my life? This is when that happened. I stopped. The hair on the back of my neck had stood on end and a chill had run down my spine.

Something was off about that voice. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was just slightly wrong. I pointed my light toward where I had heard it. Are you hurt? I said, voice raised, but not quite shouting anymore. Help, the voice called again, only it was even closer this time. I hadn't heard the crunch of any footsteps. Over here! My grip on my flashlight tightened, and my heart started to hammer in my chest. This was not right. I'd read a lot of no sleep back then, and had watched and listened to my fair share of spooky stories. At the time, I didn't think any of this stuff was real, but what was happening to me felt way too familiar, and it was setting off alarm bells. Something about this exact situation was tugging at the back of my mind as something I

should be terrified of. I tried one more time. What's your name? I asked cautiously. Help, the voice called, and it couldn't have been more than a few yards off. That was enough for me to swap my light to my left hand and bring out the colt with my right. I pointed both in the direction of that voice and finally caught a glimpse of something besides trees. Off in the distance, barely visible, I could see a bundle of something laying in the snow. It was human-sized, and the snow all around it was stained dark. My head was in the middle of processing what it was seeing when I saw movement between me and the body. Oh no, that was a body. I pointed my flashlight and gun at the source of the movement. It was humanoid, with two arms and two legs, but it was all wrong.

The limbs were too long and it was too tall. Its hair was thin and wiry. It had antlers, freaking antlers, and its face, which was also, I assure you, really wrong, was stained dark with what I can only assume was blood. I fired two shots and hauled out. I don't know if the bullets slowed it down. I don't even know if I hit it. I ran faster than I'd ever run before, and by the cracking branches and crunching snow behind me,

it was giving chase. My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest, and my lungs burned from taking in the frosty air. Once or twice I saw death flash before me as I nearly lost my footing in the snow, but I managed to stay upright. As I ran, I heard more snapping, more crunching, not just behind me now, but all around. There were more. I got really lucky that night. I was lucky to have spotted the body, lucky to have run just fast enough and not fallen on my face. lucky none of the whatever they were, I have a guess, but I'd rather not hazard it,

were just a bit closer or faster. I was lucky that I had dabbled in enough spooky stories that my alarm bells had gone off, and I was lucky that the poor couple, maybe, in that Nissan, had gotten stranded there and suffered the grisly fate they suffered. After all, I was planning to stop just as I saw those caution flashers. I'd have been right there, in those same woods, asleep. I don't want to think about what would have happened to me if that had been the case. I made it to my car, which I was again lucky to have left running, thinking I wouldn't go far.

I leapt in, slammed and locked the door, and threw it in reverse as I saw dark, lanky shapes coming out of the trees. As I got moving, the headlights revealed what had been chasing me. I can't say exactly how many it was, at least half a dozen. All of them were similarly stretched, pale to the point of being almost white, with various forms of antlers in primitive-looking clothing. I reversed down the road as fast as I dared, without risking going off and dooming myself to certain death, for a good half mile before I finally got the nerve to turn around.

Then I flew down the highway all the way back to Fairbanks, only stopping once I found a nice, well-lit hotel in the middle of the city. The next day, I was back in Anchorage. I thought about calling the state troopers. Someone was going to find the Nissan, probably find the bodies. They'd find my casings, my tire tracks. I could end up a murder suspect. I decided against it, though. If I ratted myself out, I'd be a murder suspect anyway, and then they'd know it was me. Better to bet that no one could tie me to that scene,

especially being as far from local as I was. Over the next week, I packed my stuff, bailed on my job and my lease, and moved back to Texas. I never ended up with police banging on my door, so I guess I made the right choice. I still have nightmares about those wrong, elongated things chasing me. I probably have PTSD, but it's not like I can talk to a therapist about it without ending up in a loony bin. I'm not an adventurer anymore. I never go anywhere at night, and I stay in the city as much as possible. I didn't get out of there unscathed, but I got out of there alive, which is better than can be said for the folks in the Nissan. I was lucky. You said this place was steps from the water.

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They are walking lies, being inhabited by a deceiver of life itself. I'm overwhelmed and trapped by the countless thoughts that pass through my conscience on a day-to-day basis. Where have you gone, Mike and John? Where will we meet again? Cabins. The very word evokes a sense of peaceful retreats in nature, away from the chaos of everyday life. For many it's a place where they have created fond memories, such as family vacations, or simply enjoying time in the great outdoors. The crisp, fresh air, the tranquil sound of rivers flowing. The stunning beauty of nature all contributes to a sense of euphoria,

and contentment. Despite the idealistic setting, there can be an underlying sense of eerieness that can cast a shadow over the experience. Perhaps it is a feeling of isolation that creeps in when the sun goes down, coming to the realization that one is never truly alone. It is in these moments that one may lose their purity and mindfulness, that sense of being fully present and in the moment. The mind can wander and conjure up all sorts of unsettling thoughts and emotions. The memory of that cabin still lingers in my mind. Every time I close my eyes, I can see the darkness, an emptiness that filled that place. The air was heavy, and the atmosphere was thick with unease. The creaking floorboards and the howling wind outside sounded like screams, as if the cabin itself was alive and trying to

warn me to leave. Sometimes I wonder if I've left a part of myself behind in that run-down shack of hell. It's as if a piece of my soul was stripped away and left to rot there, unable to escape. The thought sends shivers down my spine, and I can't help but feel a sense of foreboding whenever I think about that cabin. Despite my ongoing unease, my purpose today is not to dwell on the past. Instead, I am here to warn you of something that inhabits our world, something that we must be aware of and prepared for. I am warning you of the masked, the hidden, and the mimic. It all began when my close friend Mike called me up and pitched the idea of an exploration camp-out at some abandoned trails with our entire friend group. The place he described was supposedly located on the outskirts of town, far away from the city.

Despite my reservations and lingering superstitions, I agreed to go. The idea of spending time out in nature with my boys, surrounded by nothing but the sound of the wind and the rustling of leaves, was too enticing to resist. not to also mention the opportunity for exploration and adventure. The next day, Mike and I loaded up my truck with supplies for our hike. We were also joined by two other friends, Brandon and John. As we made our way toward the outskirts of town, Brandon shared his insight on what he came across while researching the trails. Apparently, there were several hiking trails in the area that had been abandoned and shut

down due to funding issues. This didn't make much sense to us. considering the popularity of hiking in the area, but we were eager to explore nonetheless. We arrived at the trailhead and started gearing up for our hike. The trailhead had a rundown look to it, with overgrown weeds and broken signs. As we started walking down the trail, we couldn't help but notice the eerie silence that surrounded us. The trees were dense, and the only sounds we could hear were the crunching of leaves beneath our feet and the occasional bird call. As we continued on the trail, we started to come across strange objects.

There were rusty cans, broken glass, and old camping gear scattered around the trail. We also noticed that some sections of the trail had been washed out by rain, making it harder to navigate. As we hiked deeper into the woods, we started to notice that the trees were becoming twisted and deformed. The trail seemed to be leading us toward a section of the woods that was darker and more foreboding than the rest. Despite our growing unease, we pressed on. We were determined to solve the mystery of the abandoned trails. Our theories ranged from budget cuts to supernatural forces, but we couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching us.

I heard that within two years of its opening, 15 people went missing, Mike said, as we hiked deeper into the woods. Maybe there were a lot of black bears around, he continued, trying to rationalize the disappearances. Come on, man, why do you have to have such a bland answer? I mean, think about it. There were no remains left of all 15 people who went missing. No remains.

So tell me, Mike. Who got them? John replied, his voice rising with frustration. John was always the one to entertain the idea of something more sinister lurking in the shadows. His fascination with the supernatural clearly frustrated a one-dimensional intellect in Mike. Although I couldn't deny the logic in his argument. Well, what else could have done this? If you're going to go on a tangent about some supernatural bull crap, don't even talk.

Seriously, you know I'm not the type to sit around and listen to bogus theories, Mike added, clearly annoyed, but John wasn't deterred. Hey man, it's not personal. Maybe start to allow yourself to think outside the box. Not everything can be explained through logic, he said, trying to reason with Mike. We continued hiking, our conversation shifting to the various theories we had about the abandoned trails. The deeper we went, the more the woods seemed to close in around us, suffocating us with a sense of entrapment. Despite our apprehension, we were all determined to uncover the truth that was buried in the past. With a sense of relief, we finally arrived at our destination and found the perfect campsite by the river. The sun was setting, and the golden rays painted the sky in a warm glow.

The sound of the river flowing gently by was soothing, and we all stood there in awe, admiring the beauty of nature. Our apprehension and fear seemed to dissipate as we took in the peaceful surroundings. We set up our tents, started a fire, and shared stories and jokes that made us laugh till our faces hurt. As we sat around the campfire,

roasting marshmallows and telling ghost stories, it felt like we had been transported to a simpler time, away from the pressures and stress of our normal lives. We were in our element, surrounded by the raw beauty of nature, and nothing else seemed to matter. For a moment, we forgot about the abandoned trails and the unsettling feeling that had accompanied us on our hike.

We were free, and that feeling of euphoria returned to us, filling us with a sense of joy and wonder. This campfire is coming out nice, ain't it, guys? John said with a grin on his face. We all nodded in agreement, savoring the presence of each other's company. Brandon chimed in, expressing his longing for more moments like this. where he could be in nature and escape the boredom of daily life. I agree, I added.

I feel alive when I'm out exploring new things. I mean, think about it, guys. We slave our lives away working and paying taxes. Don't you think we're meant for something more than that? Mike, who had been quietly observing the conversation, spoke up. Evolutionarily speaking, we used to travel all across the world in small tribes. It's in our nature to want to explore new lands and experience something new every day. Most of us don't have anything remotely similar to that. That's probably why there's

mass depression across the world. As Mike's words lingered in the air, we fell into a thoughtful silence, contemplating our own existence and the choices we had made. But in that moment, with the fire crackling and the stars twinkling above us, we were content with just being in each other's company and enjoying the beauty of the natural world around us. I think we should go on more camping trips like this, John said. breaking the silence. What do you guys think? We all nodded in agreement, our spirits lifted by the promise of more adventures to come. For the time being, we were happy to be exactly where we were, surrounded by friends and the wonders of the great outdoors. As night began to fall, we all gathered

around the campfire and got our sleeping blankets out. We spent our last few moments awake goofing around, telling stories and jokes, and continuing to maintain our high spirits. The crackle of the fire and the sound of the nearby river created a soothing ambiance, lulling us into a state of relaxation. However, that peacefulness was suddenly shattered by John's blood-curdling scream. We all jolted upright, our hearts pounding with fear and confusion. It took us a moment to realize what was happening, but when we did, we rushed over to John's tent to see what was going on.

John was huddled in a corner, his face contorted in terror, sweat pouring down his forehead. He kept muttering something about it being outside and watching us. We tried to calm him down and ask him what he meant, but he was inconsolable. Whoa, whoa, calm down, man, explained to us what happened. I replied, someone caressed my face, not gently, not aggressively, but firmly. I woke up and no one was there. I thought for a second you guys were messing with me, but it continued randomly, throughout the night. I woke up just now because I had a nightmare, a vivid nightmare of a strange

creature hovering over us all. Its eyes were filled with malice like I've never seen before, although it had a touch of admiration and curiosity in its gaze, John added. Okay, John, I know you're freaked out. Any of us here would be too, but Brandon has always been known for sleepwalking. It could have just been him, Mike said. Mike, seriously? I was sleeping on the other side of John, Also, I have sleepwalked in the past, but I've never done it more than once a night. John, don't tell me you've been messing around with psychedelics lately. Maybe it's finally starting to catch up to you. I mean all that tripping has got to cause damage, Brandon replied.

You know what? Forget it, John said with a sigh. I don't want to overthink it. Maybe I'm just still mentally drained from my past psychedelic trips. I mean I've experimented with all sorts of them in the past. Maybe it's finally catching up to me. Brandon nodded in agreement, looking concerned. Yeah, man, that stuff can really mess with your head.

I've seen it happen firsthand with some other friends. Maybe it's time to take a break from all that tripping for a while. We can't have you running into the woods naked because you heard a bird chirp, Brandon sarcastically remarked. We all laughed, feeling relieved that the tension had dissipated and went back to bed. The next morning, we woke up feeling refreshed and ready to continue our hike. As we walked down the trail, we started goofing around and laughing again, feeling a sense of brotherhood. I couldn't believe that exploring an abandoned trail with a group of friends could relieve me of the stress and anxiety that had been weighing me down in my normal life.

In spite of the fact that our initial plan was to sleep over one night and hike until noon, we ended up extending our stay for one more night due to our constant stops and goofing around. It was a perfect day, until John spotted something unusual. Hey guys, I see something over there, John said. Please hand me the binoculars in your bag, Mike, Brandon asked. Finally something creepy. I think all of us could have a good scare today. Things have been a bit too mellow, I added. Guys, there's a cabin here, John exclaimed.

Hell yeah, finally some action. Let's go check it out, John suggested. Okay, guys, it seems like it's on the other side of the river by the bank. From what I could tell, it's got to be at least two months. miles out," Brandon informed the group. We made our way down to the river, but we were unlucky as we didn't have a boat to get across to the other side. However, we quickly devised a plan to create a makeshift walkway by grabbing a large tree trunk

and throwing it down to bridge the gap. Fortunately, our physical strength from lifting weights made it easier for us to be successful. We continued hiking for another 300 meters or so until we caught sight of the cabin. The cabin was neither large nor small, and it didn't look old. It was a two-story, all-wooded structure with dark and moldy wood. Strangely enough, it had no windows. We stared at the cabin in awe, taking in the cold, decrepit view. What left us speechless was how the cabin even got there.

The trails had been abandoned since the 70s, and it was puzzling to think how someone could have brought all the necessary supplies deep into the trail on the other side of the river. Try to imagine that scenario and visualize the puzzled state we were in. Nevertheless, our curiosity grew too strong, and we weren't going to stop at anything. We hit the jackpot. We're going to make the news once we tell everyone what we found here, John exclaimed. Shut up, jerk! We're not even supposed to be here right now, so keep your mouth shut, Mike retorted.

Yeah, Mike's right. Let's make a pact that we keep this to ourselves. This just doesn't add up. A trail gets abandoned for no apparent. reason, and 15 people went missing without a clue. And now there's a cabin in the middle of nowhere, Brandon said, adding to the confusion. Guys, are we making a mistake? What if the owner comes back and shoots us, or worse, skins us? There's no way anyone living out here is mentally sane, I said, voicing my concerns. Look, Adrian, if you don't feel comfortable, please stay out as a lookout.

I'm curious to see what's up with all this mess, Mike said, determined to explore further. As we walked towards the cabin, with every crunch my feet made against the leaves on the ground, I was filled with a void of thoughts. I was engulfed with the idea of whether I would be alive and breathing fresh air tomorrow morning, still conscious and aware of my own existence, or if this was the beginning of the end, my last few steps into my destined demise. As we walked up the steps towards the door, the moment of truth came. The smell inside the cabin was metallic, so much so that we all threw.

grew up. The repulsive smell was something alien in nature. The floor was scattered with many books and files which we started picking up and reading. Many of the files contained information about crypted creatures such as Skinwalkers, Wendigo's, Bigfoot, and the Cracken, while a few contained information on lost civilizations. Despite my awe of these findings, one particular file stuck out to me, the mimic. As I read this document, I felt a chill crawl down my spine. I distinctly remember a from the document, Level 4.7 Danger Warning. The origins of mimics are shrouded in mystery. While we don't know much about these elusive creatures,

some speculate that they may be therianthropes or other kin, terms used to describe beings that possess both human and animal characteristics. Despite their unknown physical form, it is believed that mimics have the ability to consume a human's consciousness and use their body as a vessel, retaining all of the memories of the previous human, This allows them to perfectly imitate their host's personality and behavior. It is important to exercise caution when traveling to unknown or densely populated areas,

as these are believed to be hotspots for mimic activity. Hiking trails and national parks are common hunting grounds for these creatures as they search for their next potential host. One way to identify a potential mimic is by staring into their eyes, as it is believed that they are unable to fully replicate the human gaze. the human gaze. However, it's important to note that the true nature and abilities of mimics remain largely unknown, making encounters with these creatures both rare and unpredictable. In other words, with a deep, long gaze into their eyes, you will be able to see the vacantness

in their eyes, soulless. Its purpose for wanting to partake in these actions is surrounded by a big cloud of mystery, although it's speculated that it wishes no more than to be a human, to breathe the same air as we do, to love as we do, or more so to hate as we do, stay away. This cryptid is the most precise killer of them all because of the fact that there is no evidence to prove someone is gone when it inhabits the body of the deceased person. It could be your mother, your father, your friend, it could be anyone. There are more of them than you think, all around us, lingering in the shadows. This is all I could remember reading. It definitely wasn't word for word, but again I'm just trying to give a summary of what the mimic is.

You may be questioning whether whoever lived in this cabin before was a total nut job, but trust me when I say this, these looked like authentic government documents. They couldn't have just been printed out. No freaking way. I thought all of this was just folklore, John said. Can you please shut the hell up for once? This isn't a joke until we get out of here alive. We need to go now. Brandon replied, I'm with you, man, let's bail.

This is way too sketchy. I added, No, come on, guys, we only live once. This place hasn't been opened up in a while. We should be safe here. How about we stay? There's a fireplace in here. And it'll be a great experience to talk about years from now.

Mike insisted. I'm with you, Mike. I'm scared, but come on. There's only one experience like this in our lives, so let's live it up. I say screw it, John remarked. No, come on, guys. Mike exclaimed. His voice filled with excitement.

We only live once. This place hasn't been opened up in a while. We should be safe here. How about we stay? There's a fireplace in here, and it'll be a great experience to talk about years from now. I'm with you, Mike, John chimed in. I'm scared, but come on.

There's only one experience like this in our lives. So let's live it up. I say screw it. Okay, I'm in as long as we do sleeping shifts to make sure we don't get skinned alive in the middle of the night, Brandon added, his voice trembling slightly. Well, I can't leave my boys alone, I said. My voice filled with a hint of hesitation.

Guys, there's a basement and upstairs, John exclaimed, his voice rising with excitement. Mike and I will check upstairs, and you and Brandon can check out the basement. His voice trailed off as he made his way towards the staircase. His flashlight illuminating the darkened room. Fear paralyzed me, my heart pounding in my chest as I hesitated at the top of the steep staircase.

I wasn't built for these kinds of situations, but like always, my pride and ego persevered, forcing me to continue. The stairs were extremely steep, and I stumbled several times, grateful for Brandon's steady hand as he helped me down. It felt like we were descending for ages, and I estimated that we were now about 50 feet underground. As we made our way deeper into the basement,

not much was visible at first, but our flashlights illuminated the way. We stopped for a moment, both feeling unsure of what to do next. That was until we heard a huge. human whimpering, my heart raced with fear, and I looked to Brandon, who had a similar expression of concern on his face. We both took a deep breath and followed the sound until we came to a dark corner of the basement. As we approached the dark corner of the basement, our flashlights illuminating the way, we heard the sound of something moving on the ground. Suddenly, we turned our

flashlights on and collapsed to the ground in fear. There, lying on the ground was a middle-aged skinny man with terrible fear in his eyes. For a moment we stared at the man in shock, unsure of what to do next. He didn't move or say anything, and his eyes were filled with terror. It was clear that he had been through something traumatic. I looked over at Brandon, who was just as scared as I was. We knew we had to help the man, but we didn't know how. Who the hell are you? Don't mess with us. We have a gun, Brandon exclaimed, his voice shaking with fear. Shush, shush! The unknown man said. putting his hands up in surrender. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I realized we were in a

dangerous situation. We didn't have a gun or any weapon to protect ourselves, but at that moment, I was relieved that Brandon had said that. We had to figure out what to do next, and fast. Before we could make a move, the man spoke again, his voice trembling with fear. I know you guys are human, I sense it. Please let me explain myself. I swear I'm not crazy, he said. I could feel my blood boiling as the unknown man spoke. The tension in the air was palpable as we all waited for him to explain himself. Finally, he continued, me and a group of friends decided to come out here to hike for fun, since we heard it was abandoned. Next thing you know, we hear a man calling out for help. We rushed over to see where it was coming from. We ended up here at this cabin. We cautiously walked in.

There laid a man on the floor bleeding, crying out to us for help. As he spoke, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. It seemed that the unknown man was telling the truth, and that we were all just victims of a terrible situation. However, we still had to figure out how to get out of there safely. I listened intently to the man's story, my mind racing with questions and theories. When he mentioned the documents, I couldn't help but interrupt him. I don't mean to interrupt you, and I know this might sound crazy, but does this have anything to do with the documents we found here? I asked, hoping to get some clarity. The man's eyes widened in surprise, and I could see the fear etched into his face. The mimic, he said, his voice barely above a whisper. If you read

anything about it, then you'll know what I'm talking about. I lost my two friends to those creatures, those wretched demons. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The documents we found mentioned something about a mimic, but I had assumed it was just a legend or a myth. Now, it seemed that there was more to it than we had thought. As the man continued his story, Brandon interrupted him with anger and suspicion in his voice. Your story sounds like bull crap to me. What are you plotting? He shouted. I tried to calm Brandon down, sensing that there might be some truth to the man's story. Brandon let him finish. We'll judge his story later, I said. The man continued, his voice trembling with fear. Look, I know you don't trust me, but please keep me hidden here and leave before they get y'all

too. It's too late for me. It's just a matter of time. As he spoke, I could feel my own fear rising. We were in serious danger, and we had to find a way out of there before it was too late. Look, man, it's all right. Just calm down and please continue your story, I said, trying to reassure the man. The next day, I returned to the cabin to investigate what had happened to my friends. As I approached the cabin I felt a sense of unease and apprehension, almost as if the very air around the cabin was charged with an otherworldly energy. When I entered the cabin, I was immediately struck by how eerily quiet it was. There were no signs of a struggle or any disturbance, but the silence was suffocating.

As I called out for my friends, they suddenly appeared as if out of thin air. They greeted me casually and spoke as if nothing had happened. They told him that he must be suffering from schizophrenia. and that the man they had heard yelling never existed. I couldn't believe what he was hearing. I knew I had seen and heard things that were real, but now I was being told that I was crazy. Two weeks passed, and I spent my time scavenging for food and avoiding detection.

I was in a constant state of fear and paranoia, never sure if the mimic was still nearby. I eventually returned to the cabin three days ago to try and make sense of what had happened. As I dug through the documents, began to understand the true nature of the mimic. It was a creature that consumed the consciousness of its host, imitating their personality and memories perfectly. The mimic aimed to confuse the masses by leaving no trace of anything unusual or out of the ordinary. I struggled to comprehend the implications of what I had discovered. I was horrified by the thought that the people around me could be nothing more than

hosts for these creatures. His voice trembled as he spoke, unable to fully process the weight of the knowledge he had gained. Look, man, I'm not going to say you're lying or that you're crazy. You can leave now while my friends are upstairs. I'll explain to them later, I said. No, don't tell your friends. You guys have to leave too. You can't trust anyone, the unknown man added. We're not going to leave our friends behind. Good luck, man. Please stay away from us. We won't be here for long, I added. The man ran off into the woods, leaving me and Brandon shell-shocked and unsure of what to do next. We were filled with doubts and fears,

wondering if he was really crazy or if his story actually added up. Brandon didn't utter a single word, lost in thought. We got to get out of here, Brandon finally said, breaking the silence. I agree.

Something in my gut tells me he's telling the truth, I replied, nodding in agreement. As we turned to head back upstairs, John's voice interrupted us. Brandon? Adrian? What's taking so long, guys?

We just finished checking out upstairs. Whoever lived here before was definitely tripping on something. I exchanged a worried glance with Brandon, unsure of how to respond. It seemed that the bizarre events we had experienced were far from over. Me and Brandon headed upstairs retaining the knowledge that the mimic could be anywhere. We both agreed to pull an all-nighter to ensure our safety. Mike and John seemed to be in great spirits, almost forgetting that we were in an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere.

although we made the best of our situation. We started up a fire on the fireplace and started reminiscing about old times. Mike, remember that time you jumped into the lake because I told you I accidentally dropped your phone in there? Brandon said. Ha ha, yeah, you've always been a jerk. I hope you know I'm going to get you back worse one day. Mike replied. You'll try you dweeb, Brandon added.

Wait, hold on, guys. Did you hear that? Mike said, no, what's up, man? Brandon said. Mike, is everything okay? I asked. No, guys shut the fire off, Mike demanded. Mike, start explaining what the hell is going on, John said. There's someone outside of this cabin. I hear footsteps nearby, Mike said. A few moments later, we felt the walls rattle with vibrations as someone banged on the door continuously, yelling, come out, you little weasels. Me and Brandon knew all too well that this was the mimic.

We couldn't help but look at one another in an overwhelming disturbance. The way the man yelled was truly bone-chilling. It was as if his voice had been stripped of all humanity, replaced by a primal growl that rattled the very foundation of the cabin. The banging on the door seemed to intensify, as if the man was growing increasingly angry and desperate to get inside. As we huddled together in the room, the atmosphere became thick with tension and unease. The air seemed to grow heavier as if it were pressing down on us with an otherworldly force. The man's voice continued to deteriorate, morphing into a guttural snarl that seemed to come from deep within his throat. Despite our fear, we couldn't help but be fascinated by the strange and unsettling sound.

Suddenly the banging stopped and the silence was unbearable. We held our breath, waiting for what would come next. And then we heard it, the sound of footsteps slowly making their way toward the door. Each step echoed through the house like a hammer on a drum, and we knew all too well what was about to take place. We huddled together, trying to keep our car. composure, but the fear was overwhelming. Our hearts were pounding in our chests, and we could feel the sweat running down our foreheads. We knew that we had to be ready to defend ourselves,

but we had no idea what we were up against. Mike, what the hell are you doing? I asked. Mike started yelling and threatening whoever was behind the door. He rushed to open it, and as he did, the man's yells turned into laughter. In fact, Mike and the other man started laughing hysterically, we were left in a state of confusion. Before we could even respond to Mike, he and the other man attacked us, beating us so badly that we were knocked unconscious. When I woke up, my head was pounding, and I struggled to focus my vision. Mike and the other man were standing over us, their eyes black as night, devoid of any emotion or humanity. Their presence was suffocating, as if the very air around them was being drained of life.

Suddenly, I felt a deep sense of grief and loss wash over me. It was as if I had just realized that my childhood best friend Mike had been gone for a long time, his soul replaced by some malevolent force. The other man was no longer a stranger, but a vessel for the same entity that had claimed Mike's life. The weight of the situation was overwhelming, and tears streamed down my face as I tried to process what had happened. I knew that it was only a matter of time before. for I too would be taken over by the creature they called the mimic. You finally woke up, huh?

Mike slash mimic said. What are you waiting for? Why not just be done with it? Whatever you are, I replied. At this point, Brandon and John started waking up as well. Brandon knew all too well just as I that our demise was soon to come. John, on the other hand, was in a shocked state. He couldn't even mutter up a sentence.

Well, there are three of you and two of us. We're waiting for another one of us to get here. Mike slash mimic said. What even are you? What do you truly look like? Brandon asked. Ha ha, you humans have always been curious. Even hundreds of thousands of years ago.

You guys never seem to change. Mike slash mimic replied. What the hell are you even talking about? If you're about to eliminate us, at least do us the justice of telling us what our bodies are going to be used for. Why do we even deserve it? Brandon added.

How about this? You tell us where you're from. Why do you even need us to say? sustain yourself. Whatever you may be, I suggested. We aren't from here. We come from another place and evolve slowly over time by consuming the consciousness, or what you humans call the mind. We begin by taking over the smallest insects, then move on to more intelligent animals, and the cycle continues. We learn as we grow and consume. We have witnessed it all, the fall of the dinosaurs and the rise of mammals. The excitement never ends. Each new life

brings a new experience. Please understand that our actions are not personal. It is simply a matter of survival, Mike slash mimic explained. Do you have emotions? Why do you sound like any other ordinary human? This all has to just be a bad dream, I replied. One thing that most humans lack is the ability to delve deeper into every small detail given to them. As I mentioned earlier, we learn as we grow and consume. We possess everything a human could possibly have, as well as many other types of organisms on this planet. We are scattered across the cosmos, growing and consuming. Our only desire is to experience all that life has to offer and to be immortal, Mike slash mimic explained. Well, if you already have Mike's body, why would you need another vessel? Brandon asked. That document you read on

mimics didn't specify the context that we can't completely consume the conscience of our host immediately. It takes about four years. Not to also mention it can vary depending on various factors such as age, size, and lastly their health. Once we've almost completely consumed their conscience, we are in a hurry to find our next host, Mike slash mimic clarified. Wait, so Mike's alive somewhere deep down in his mind? Indeed he is, or at least just fragments of him. Our host goes into a dreamlike state, never able to wake up once we have fully implanted ourselves into them. Matter of fact, I feel his fear and confusion as we speak. He isn't aware of what's going on, but I feel his precious fear and sorrow.

It overwhelms me with life. Mike Slash mimic said, all of a sudden, John started screaming out in terror. He cried continuously, overcome by great sadness, confusion, and fear. Before I could join John in his delve into darkness, I was interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside the cabin. A tall mutilated man entered through the door, with dry and flaky skin, and most importantly, empty eyes. You see our friend here who just walked through the door is in dire need of a new host, so tell me. Which one of you is it going to be? Mike slash mimic said. One last question before it's our time to go.

What does life mean to you? I inquisitively asked. Life is a rare and precious phenomenon, surpassing anything else in existence. It is driven by an unyielding will to survive, and, fueled by the profound depth and richness of human emotions and experiences, Mike slash mimic replied. The three mimics then approached us with hungry, curious eyes. They all placed their hands on our heads, caressing us as if we were precious children, almost as if these creatures admired our entire existence as a whole. Suddenly, the human host skin started to flare up in a plethora

of bright colors. As the mimic released its hold on the human bodies, they all dropped to the ground. And then I saw it, the mimic's true form. Its body didn't resemble any earthly animal, as if the most twisted, eerie minds couldn't even conceive such a creature. The mimic had thin, almost otherworldly limbs that seemed to be able to grab onto anything in their path. Their structure was unlike that of an octopus. They were arranged in an irregular and unorthodox fashion. The mimic's face was even more unnerving, with a disconcerting and displaced structure that defied all logic. Imagine long, spinly limbs jutting out in all directions, and a face that was terrifying, yet inexplicably puzzling. And the colors and textures of the creature were equally baffling,

bright primary dark shades surrounding its disfigured face. In short, the mimic's true form was something out of a nightmare, a freakish otherworldly entity that defied explanation. Despite its grotesque appearance, there was an unexplainable beauty to the being that filled me with both admiration and terror, but before I could even begin to comprehend the mimic's true form, hundreds of its thin, skirmish limbs gripped my body, constricting me with an otherworldly strength. As the mimic tightened its grip, I felt my consciousness began to slip away. In that moment, I was overcome by a deluge of emotions that weren't my own. It was as if I was experiencing the memories and sensations of every creature the mimics had ever assimilated, from the tiniest

insects to the mightiest sea beasts, and ultimately to the most complex and enigmatic species of them all, humans. In those moments, it was all too apparent to me that I was going to delve into that dreamlike sleeping state that the mimic had explained to me before. With my few conscious thoughts I thought to myself, was this the only outcome? In a way, I assumed it was better than me dying in a painful way. Although realistically my body was being used and mimicked to the touch, my phrases, my mannerisms, my emotions. This was an assault on humanity, I thought. This was far worse than simply just becoming non-existent,

and out of the picture we call life. Complete darkness engulfed me, and I slowly felt myself getting tired. Then, without warning, gunshots were fired, and I awoke to the mimic's corpse on the ground, and an all-too-familiar face. It was the man Brandon and I had encountered in the basement, the one we let flee away because we think,

thought he was crazy. Before I could cry out in appreciation, the unknown yelled to me. There's only two corpses on the ground. He got John's body. It's too late. We got to make a run for it. Let's go. Brandon and I, without second-guessing, ran out of the cabin and followed the man who saved us. He explained to us that he had been monitoring us for days to ensure we didn't meet the same fate as he and his friends had prior. Luckily, his compassion for his fellow humans saved us in the end. We ran and ran and ran for hours on end, our fear fueling our desperate attempts to escape. Eventually, a small town emerged on the horizon, and we found refuge in an abandoned house. My friend Brandon and I grieved for our fallen companion, John, our tears flowing freely in deep sorrow for the remainder of the day.

It has now been three weeks since that fateful incident, and we have been accused of murder by those who believe that John is still alive, or at least his imposter is. This turn of events has forced us to live in constant fear, always on the run from both mimics and humans alike. Despite this, I hold on to the peace in my heart, knowing that I have not lost my soul to those walking deceivers. To the parents of Mike and John, if you are reading this, remember that your sons are gone. Mike has been missing for far longer than you know, and the John you see before you is not your son. Who knows what that creature may do in the night when no one is around to see? its stares are filled with deep selfishness and hunger, and envy you couldn't even begin to comprehend.

To my brothers, wherever you are, know that I love you always. Brandon and I have taken it upon ourselves to hunt down these parasites and protect humanity from their malevolent schemes in the shadows. This was not the life I had envisioned for myself, but it is the life I have been given, and I will not rest until my long-lost friends have been given the justice they deserve. I leave you with this final thought. Within the shadows lie secrets far more terrible than you can begin to fathom.

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