Lighthouse Horror Podcast - WARNING: This Creepypasta Story IS REAL | Scary Stories

Episode Date: October 14, 2024

I barely survived... Scary Story by Saturdead Check out more of the author's work here u/Saturdead  Cover Art from Ninerio More of the artist’s works at ninerioarts                 Original YouTube link: WARNING: This Creepypasta Story IS REAL       Merch: lighthousehorror.shop For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Darren Curtis Music - YouTube  Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new episodes every week, featuring ghost stories, haunted encounters, mysteries, true stories, creepypasta, and anything supernatural and paranormal. Don't miss out on the thrill and suspense that await you in each episode!

I never thought we'd be in danger. That was never a real conscious thought. After all our adventures to ghost houses, seances, or abandoned asylums, none of us had ever actually run into something dangerous. But a couple of years ago, that all changed. It was all because of something called the Fours a crowd. Let me explain. In my early 20s, I fell in love with the dark corners of the internet.

video essays discussing various spooky threats and unexplained phenomenon of the rural Midwest. Clips showing seemingly impossible things done to ordinary people by mysterious creatures. Some, which would be revealed as hoaxes, others that wouldn't. I've always had a particular love for local legends and rumors. There's something very real and raw about those special, little whispers that exclusively travel by word of mouth. I found a couple of friends through this hobby, first of which is my buddy Paul. We've been friends ever since we dressed up as the same version of Penguin, the villain,

at a Halloween party in our late teens. I thought our time exploring haunted houses would be over when he started to date this girl Veronica, or more commonly known as Vera. My fears were unfounded, though, as she turned out to be. just as weird as he is, making a great addition to our club of hobby horrors. This excursion started, because Vera told us about this thing from her hometown, some left-of-now-where kind of place in rural Minnesota. She said there was a local legend, but that there had been so many sightings that it was

nothing short of a miracle that it hadn't been more widely covered. Polly and I were all ears. I can't believe you haven't heard of it. None of you know about the Forsa crowd? She asked. Yeah, no, we hadn't. So turns out this thing is a bit of a tall tail in her neck of the woods. The Forsa crowd had been around for decades,

and it was apparently so well known that most locals didn't even find it interesting anymore. Still, local law enforcement had an official warning out, and by warning, we mean a chain-linked fence and an angry sign. So the year I turned 24, we all packed ourselves into Polly's car and set our sights towards rural Minnesota. If this thing was as prominent as we'd been told, there was no way we were going to miss it. It's not as stupid as it sounds. Polly and I had been on dozens of excursions to places people had sworn were horrifying and actually haunted. But up until that point, we hadn't seen anything but creepy paintings, a couple of weirdly colored sunflowers, and felt a sudden

cold chill or two. The idea of something physical and tangible was laughable. Vera called up one of her local friends ahead of our arrival. This guy was sort of a tour guide, specializing in what they call dark tourism. It's a thing, but it's often pretty grim stuff. Still, he seemed capable enough. He had a couple of YouTube videos that we checked out. He used to be easy to find back then. His YouTube channel bordered on about 200k subs.

We packed for a sleepover. Snacks, tents, sleeping bags, a couple of cameras, the usual. Vera told us little to nothing about what to expect. She wanted Neal to get a chance to give us the complete tour. I don't want to spoil it, she chuckled, as we drove past St. Cloud. It's a thing, you know, it's a great thing. Come man, give us a hint, Polly begged. Like the name, what's that about?

You know, three's a crowd, but this is like four. Neil said. Oh, great, great, real helpful, Polly sighed, taking a left turn back out on the highway. So we met our guide, Neil, on a cloudy afternoon in mid-May. With high summer right around the corner, the air was moist, and the ground was muddy. There was the first sprinkling of rain in the air, and we could hear rumbling from the east, bad weather drawn in from Lake Superior. Neil was this peppy 30-something man, khaki shorts, a small rucksack, a baseball cap, and a long-sleeved gray t-shirt,

no hair, a trimmed beard, and a sunny disposition, the opposite of what I imagined a dark tourism tour guide to look like. Meanwhile, Vera looked like one of her parents worked at Hot Topic. Polly was hard to miss, too, not even a turtleneck and can't. pants could cover all his tattoos. We'd pulled into a parking lot near an old hiking trail. There was a broken gate protecting an overgrown road. Neil's car, a sensibly priced sedan, was parked just a bit further down the road.

He welcomed us, and Vera sorted out the introductions. With that said and done, the tour was on. Neil immediately stopped us. Okay, first stop is actually right here, Neil said, pointing at the ruined gate. The entrance to the hatchet paper mill shut down since the 80s. Folks didn't take kindly to the whole Clean Water Act, Neil said. We're technically trespassing, chuckled Vera. Cool, huh?

Now local folks have known about this place for decades, while going inside is sort of frowned upon, nobody really cares. Neil continued. So this thing isn't that dangerous, then, I asked. Both yes and no, Neil chuckled. It usually stays away, but we might catch a glimpse. But, yeah, it's not a big fan of people. As we put on our boots, Neil started telling us about what the hell we were to expect and why this might turn out to be very interesting.

See, the Forsa crowd is not a supernatural specter or alien visitor. According to locals, it is a very real creature. It'd been around for decades, keeping to itself within the old paper mill. So yeah, most lawmen in these parts know about it, but there hasn't been any immediate need to deal with it. It's kept to itself, and the owners of the land aren't very government-friendly, Neil explained. So what does it look like? What can we expect? I asked.

Vera didn't tell you, huh? Neil chuckled. Really? Yeah, really, I said. Polly turned to Vera, but she just grinned. Neil shrugged. Well, it looks like four people. Just four regular people.

Two taller people in the back? Too shorter or crouching? people in the front like they're posing for a picture, Neil explained. It was about as stupid as it sounded. Suddenly, I could see why this wasn't a big thing. To an outsider, this thing would just look like four people. Even if I saw it with my own eyes, what was there to see? I couldn't help but to think that Neil probably had a couple of people ready to scare us a little.

Okay, are you telling me we're trekking to some tetanus-covered shit-hold? to watch four kids and Halloween masks stand at the end of a corridor, I whispered to Polly. Might be fun, Pauly shrugged. Yeah, man, I'm not buying it. I replied. Being skeptical about this sudden reveal, Pauley and I started asking a whole bunch of questions. Like, how it could just look like four people and what it actually was. What it ate? where it lived, all kinds of stuff.

I admit we weren't very polite. Neil didn't seem to mind, though, and tried his best to keep up with us. It needs chlorine as part of its diet, Neil patiently explained. That's why it moved into the mill. There's an adjoining chlorine extractor, which they used to bleach the paper before the shutdown.

There's still loads of stuff around. It's in the water, too, Neil continued. "'So it just eats old paper?' I asked. "'No, no, no. It munches up white-tailed deer and rodents, not birds, though. Damn thing loves birds,' Neil explained. Vera was having trouble containing her glee. "'We were giving her the—' "'Are you real? Look? And she couldn't stop grinning.

Neil, on the other hand, seemed perfectly happy answering our questions. "'Okay, so how big is it? "'Got to be sizable if it eats deer,' "'I said, as we entered a clearing in the forest.' "'Well, it's large enough to be mistaken for four people. "'It is a bit of a mimic,' Neil explained. "'You said it tricks people. "'Trix people into what?' I asked.

"'Well, either to look a little closer, or scare them off. You know, it depends, Neil said. And you've seen this, I said. Sure have, Neil nodded. We'll probably all see it off in the distance, if we're lucky. It does move around a lot. Making our way out of the clearing, we got a clear view of the abandoned paper mill, six large buildings and a couple of chemical silos lining a dying river.

All of it looked worse for wear. Most of the outside was decorated with elaborate graffiti and rust. There wasn't a single window that hadn't been vandalized. Still, Neil didn't skip a beat. As we made our way closer, he kept telling us interesting facts. You can kind of notice it by the sound of birdsong, he explained. The thing rolls around in sawdust as a sort of dust bath, and it gets a lot of parasite stuck. Birds love it, so they're usually close by, ready to pick up little maggots and parasites.

Sort of like a, you know, like a crocodile, Neil said. You know, I'm hearing birdsong right now. Polly laughed. You think that's the forest, or is it the five's a crowd? It's fours a crowd. And no, that's just birds. They're usually red ones flocking through it, making a sort of trilling noise. Neil responded, giving him a cold look.

Oh, man, that's, that's exciting, said Polly. Neil said nothing. We entered the mill through one of the truck entrances, stepping over a collapsed garage door. I could practically taste the mold and residual chemicals, but Neil swore that we'd be fine. He said it was just moisture, apparently. Vera wasn't convinced, it seemed.

We made our way to the second floor, walking across a rusted out catwalk with a loose railing. Beams of light made its way through holes in the roof, slowly fading from the overcast. Overlooking the mill, we could see this place wasn't just some empty building. It must have been abandoned in a hurry. There were still some expensive machines left on the floor, most of which had been rusted to the core by decades of neglect. It roams a lot, Neil explained, as we slowly made our way forward. I don't think it nests until it finds a partner, and I can tell there aren't many of them around. How come, I asked.

Well, I think they have no means of finding one another, you know, suggesting they might have once lived in colonies where you could just, you know, like throw out an arm and grab a mate. There are a couple of holes around here where it's burrowed, suggesting it might be subterranean, he said. Really, I would love to see that. Really, I'd love to. Polly chuckled. Okay, shrugged Neil. Well, let's go see one.

Neil guided us through the factory floor, down a corridor, through a ransacked lunchroom, and out the back near one of the silos. There was a massive room containing vast piles of sawdust, easily the largest pile I'd ever seen. Polly's instinct was to try and climb it, but Neil recommended against it. No, no, that thing is crawling with parasites. I wouldn't touch it. And you see that indent there on the left flank?

That's where it's been, Neil explained. Ah, that just looks like a dent to me, Polly said. Vera elbowed him, and Polly made a lip zipping motion. Neil did his best not to roll his eyes. Neil continued to explain the many findings of the locals over the years, for example, that the fours a crowd had a larger body than one might think, but it hides it behind the crowd of four, much like an insect shielding its body.

He claimed they had a sketchy view of this back part from a side photo taken in the late 90s. Of course, it was a sketchy view. blurry at best. You could barely tell there were people in the picture at all. There had also been a steep decline of white-tailed deer in the area. While many claimed this was due to illegal hunting, Neil argued that it coincided with the growth of the creature in the early 90s. This was a returning pattern with the Foursa crowd. Everything about it could be explained by the most mundane things. It just looked like people at a distance.

Its main food source was abundant. There was nothing immediate and apparent about it. The fours a crowd could just as well be nothing. Maybe that's why we'd never heard about it. Neil continued the tour, showing us the various buildings around the complex. He told us about the different stations in the early history of the strange creature rumored to live there. We were shown a couple more points of interest, mostly relating to the early history of the creature, and by extent, the community at large.

For example, there had been a few people that had gone missing around the mill, but that was attributed to failing safety standards. Again, it was unclear. It could be blamed on a large, monstrous beast, but the far more likely cause was just an accident. Hockham's Razor As we reach the rear exit, Neil clapped his hands together. This is where I usually spot it.

It moves through the old chemical storage right over there, Neil said. So what do we do? I asked. Do we lure it out? Well, I suggest we wait, Neil smiled. Put your feet up, take in the sights.

It's a really nice. cool place, huh? Polly walked over to me, carefully elbowing me for attention. Leaning in, he whispered, The kids he hired to scare us aren't here yet, huh? Still, it was nice to just be out with friends for a change, break up the monotony of work. We put up our tents, we had a couple of hot dogs.

Vera took a nap, listening to her favorite podcast. Polly went for a jog on the catwalk, making little dust particles rain on the factory floor. It echoed through the entire building. I got a chance to sit down with Neil for a bit. Just the two of us. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy, but I could tell he was putting on a show.

Then again. That was kind of his job, huh? Vera had known him since high school, so he'd given her a good price for this. In a quiet moment, I asked him. So what's the deal, man? Why is this so interesting? I asked.

You know, it's a funny thing. It's right there for all the sea. And everything about it just looks like a whole punch in nothing. Neil smiled. Oh, come on, man. I mean, it's a great story. You've put a hell of a lot of thought into it. And look, I appreciate that.

Most places, you know, they just say it's like a ghost or an alien. I said. Look, he nodded, raising his hot dog from the open fire. I'm not bullshitting you. This thing is real. I looked at him for a moment. I could tell there was no hesitation behind those eyes. Either this man was a born liar,

or he actually believed this thing. For the next couple of hours, the sky grew darker. The rain passed us by, but not without scattering a few drops our way. The overcast drowned the rusty walls in black, making the shadows from our campfire long an alien. Spending the night there was impressive in and of itself. The uneasy sounds of groaning metal, combined with a Minnesota wild slipping in through the cracks and the building veneer. We set up our tents on the outskirts of the old administration building building. building, no risk of setting fire to anything. We could tell it was frequented by a lot of rebellious

teenagers. The graffiti spoke for itself. Neil assured us that the Forsa crowd didn't mind people, and that it would keep its distance. In his experience, it wasn't interested in hunting people. Polly just rolled his eyes. The charade was going strong. I had a surprisingly restful sleep, nodding off the moment my head hit the pillow. I didn't get to sleep for long, however. A few minutes to midnight, I heard a rustling noise coming from Pauly and Vera's tent. After I heard the tent open, I peeked out.

I was a bit embarrassed to see the two of them sneak out with a roll of toilet paper, obviously going off to mind their own business. I lay back down to sleep. When after a couple minutes, there was a whisper outside my tent. Peaking out again, I could see Vera and Polly now looking a bit more awake. Holy shit, Polly smiled. They're here. You got to see this, man.

I looked over at Neil's tent. The man was fast asleep. Had he planned this in advance? How did he know we'd be skulking around at night? Grabbing our flashlights, a camera, and putting on some proper boots, the three of us left to get a better look, leaving Neil behind in his tent. Right around the corner, Vera whispered, they're just standing there. There was a hole in the wall leading to the outside. Polly went first, then Vera.

The moment I stepped outside, I was hit by an immediate chill. Maybe the storm was turning back. Slowly raising their flashlights eastward, it came into view for the first time. The four is a crowd. Four people standing out in the middle of the night, a man, a woman, and two younger men in their late teens. A family, seemingly. All stood huddled up together, wearing identical, white shirts and navy blue pants. They all had the same hair color, just different lengths.

The parents stood shoulder to shoulder, while the younger one stood about a step ahead, and with a bit of space between them. I couldn't help but to stare. Vera took a picture with her digital camera, making sure the flash was off. It was eerie. Even Polly could feel it. even if he'd never admitted. That's messed up, he whispered. Why'd they come so late? Maybe he heard us sneak out, Vera whispered back. Either way, this is insane, right?

I wasn't so sure. The way Neil spoke about it seemed a bit too honest to be so simple, as Polly kept his flashlight fixed on them. They slowly began to move. with arms firmly at their sides, the four of them slowly stepped sideways. It was eerily coordinated, moving in a sort of diagonal tandem, almost like they were gliding. We followed them a bit, just to see what they were doing. They were walking backwards towards one of the chemical silos, always keeping their eyes firmly

fixed on us. As they got further away, they seemed to speed up. Vera barely got a chance to say, hold on, before they hurried inside the silo, still maintaining that perfect cohesion. As they disappeared,

I could even hear Polly sigh with relief. That was freaky, he said. Turning back towards our makeshift camp, We rounded the corner, only to suddenly stop. There were more people. Another group of four. These a lot smaller.

Children, maybe six or seven years old. Two who were a little taller, and two a little bit smaller. All with their arms straight and their feet moving in that same strange diagonal tandem. Before we got a chance to speak, they made a strange whistling noise and disappeared into a crack in the wall. This wasn't part of the plan. I'd never agreed to have kids roam around a place like this. It was dangerous. Whether this was Neil's idea or someone else's, this was just a bad idea. All right, all right, that's enough. We've got to wake him up now, I said. Then again, something in the back of my mind was telling me that this was too strange to just be a couple of stray kids.

The rational part of me insisted that this was nothing more than a spook or a misunderstanding. But another part of me was starting to wonder what the hell I'd stepped into. Whispering for Neil to wake up, we could hear him murmuring to himself, He looked out of his tent with a wide yawn. They're here now, Vera said. But the kids are a little much. Neil just blinked, looking back and forth between us. What kids? he asked.

Vera told them what we'd seen outside. It didn't seem to give Neil any pause until she clarified the group of kids that hurried inside. Neil just sat there, putting his clothes, on with a furrowed brow. If he'd been playing the act of a tour guide up until now, this was the point where something changed. He asked her to clarify several things, their height, their speed, their reaction,

their sounds. Polly didn't seem to know what to think about this, flip-flopping between die-hard skepticism and genuine concern. I was somewhere in between. Well, uh, started Neil. It's been rumored that the Foursa crowd is a sort of arachnid. It might be parthenogynetic. Wait, what kind of what genetic? I asked. Parthenogenetic, he clarified.

Able to effectively breed without a mate, Neil explained. What would that even mean? Polly asked. Neil paused for a moment, then spring. into action. It means we have to leave. It's nesting, he said. As we hurried to bring down our tents and pack up our things, I noticed something overhead. In and out of the holes in the roof, little red birds fluttered about, about a dozen of them. Thinking back on what Neil had said earlier, I was sure he'd mentioned something about birds. I tapped him on the shoulder, pointing upwards, and his face went pale as he held up a finger to his lips. Vera and Polly noticed,

and we all fell silent, moving very slowly as to not make noise. Every now and then the birds would land, making little chirping noises, and then return upwards. Vera pointed at something, and there it was. It slowly sidestepped into view, only the legs of the four people moving, their arms remaining straight. Their heads wobbled a little as it moved, looking more like bobbleheads than people. They still looked like they were floating forward, held up by some unseen force. But most worrying of all, They were coming towards us. I didn't know what to do. Part of me wanted to run.

Another part wanted to stand there and fully believed that this was somehow all bullshit. It had to be. There's no such thing as monsters I've checked. Over all the years of laughing at the dark, I'd learned that there really was no such thing as monsters. But as these four strange people crept closer, I wasn't so sure anymore. And Neil seemed just as, if not more, confused.

Nobody moves, he whispered. Let's see what it. And then out of little cracks and nooks, I could see more faces. The four children, for one, but another set of four further down. They didn't look at all like children, more like miniature adults, all moving in that same strange pattern, alternating their steps among each other. These just, I don't know, they didn't look finished. Hair growing out of their eyes, one leg too short, another too long, a drooping mouth that wouldn't stop twitching. Two of them were conjoined at the shoulder,

making an awful gurgling noise. I counted six groups in total, and some of those groups, they weren't people. They couldn't be. That's not what people look like. The largest one, as it got closer, was bigger than I'd expected, easily seven feet tall.

Still, they all looked at us with those glassy-eyed, Nothing's. They didn't really have eyes. It was more like white globes with accidental spots. One of the red birds gently landed on the shoulder of the tall creature, gently pecking at its neck. It didn't even flinch. Pauly held Vera tight, as we all slowly backed off, leaving what little we'd brought behind. The campfire had left. long since burned out, but the tall one still daintily stepped over the embers. It did so in a strange manner, having one of the front people lift its legs straight out, seemingly levitating in the air. But that's when the illusion broke. As it got closer,

it seemed to let go of its mimicry. One of the two front people split in half. revealing a set of arachnid legs with the same color as their hair, impossibly tall and thick legs, hiding an all-black creature with dark beady eyes. They'd been there all along, folding into vertical rows, acting as the back row's shirt buttons. They unfolded like origami,

wordlessly tearing themselves apart, breaking whatever image I had of it, revealing a creature, stretching out to its full size, easily breaking nine feet tall with arms in every direction. Every leg was camouflaged as half a person, that when put together, would form the illusion of a group of four. fake bodies, nothing more than membrane and skin writhed back and forth lifelessly, morbid appendages. I barely even heard the other screaming. Polly grabbed Vera, heading for one of the side exits. Neil just kept repeating, no, no, no, over and over, not even running. and I, well, I was frozen, staring into the slight reflection of eight eyes, arranged in two perfect columns of four.

White-clothed arms had unfolded into mandibles, creeping closer. In that moment, I thought I was going to die. I wasn't accepting that this was actually happening. A hundred thoughts were running through my mind at once, painting all the strange possibilities that might explain this. A prank show? A bad dream? Something. Anything. I could have died that day.

Suddenly, it turned away from me. Polly had run a hot dog stick straight through its right front leg. Looking back at this, it was all so fast. Using two of its legs, the Forsa crowd hurled him straight across the room and up one level, slamming into the upstairs catwalk railing. Polly wasn't moving. Vera was panicking, doubling back to get to him. Neil grabbed her, heading for the side exit.

I could have tried going with him, but there was no way I'd, get by that angered creature. Instead, we had to split up, force it to pick a lane. And of course, it went after me. I went straight ahead in the wrong direction. Down a long corridor, my steps pounding the dusty concrete. A dozen little feet followed me. Even their steps sounded human. It was like they were wearing shoes. The large one, contracted, crawling forward with its forefront legs first, furiously tapping its way forward. It was so fast, so twitchy, like it had abandoned all attempts at mimicry. I managed to make my way up the catwalk.

The moment I reached the top, the stairs collapsed behind me, deafening me with a flood of metal crashes to the floor. The creature couldn't make its way up these old walkways. There was too much concentrated weight. But that didn't stop it. Moments later, the tips of its arms would wrap around the catwalk as it hung upside down beneath, trying to bite through the metal.

And while I was fast, it could easily keep my pace. I could feel the mandibles poking through the steel, scraping against the bottom of my boots. its arms reached for me, tearing at my jacket with little claws at the end. A section of railing gave out, unbalancing the creature and nearly knocking me to the floor below. Instead, it lost its grip and fell. It'd just be a few seconds before it got back up again. I realized then this was a creature hungry to feed its young.

this was not a docile attraction. Not anymore. There was a short platform connecting the two of the buildings. The thing had once looked like a sort of glass tube, but now it was just a set of unstable open-air platforms. Still, I didn't have much choice. I went for it. I couldn't think straight anyway. I have these brief memories of the chase. It felt like ours. even though it was probably just minutes. In my mind, I can picture every corner, every bump, and every skip. But it's hard to put into words. It was just this long, wiry passage weaving together into one singular adrenaline-rushed madness

with that thing close behind me. Reaching the other end of the platform, I could see the Forsa crowd retreating into the dark. It was clever. It knew that platform couldn't support its weight, and that the fall would hurt. I ended up the way I came, on the same walkway as Polly, overlooking our previous campsite. Running up to him, I could tell he was breathing, but badly concussed. His one eye was blood-filled and swollen, and his left arm was bent the wrong way. There was no way I'd get him to walk out. out of there anytime soon.

I considered my options. I could leave him. I could run. I could try to pick him up and pull him along, but none of it was plausible, especially not leaving him. Instead, I propped us up against the wall. Somehow he was still conscious, if barely.

Together we sat there, listening to the red birds fluttering in and out of the broken roof. Turns out, the Forsa crowd couldn't reach us. It couldn't use the adjoining platforms, and there were no remaining stairs. Instead, it stood beneath us, desperately reaching upwards. In a sort of fear-induced bravado, I stood up to look down at it. The catwalk groaned but held firm. For a moment of a moment of, our eyes met. This button-eyed creature, completely emotionless, a creature that understood nothing but meat and offspring. It still reached for me, carefully, even tenderly, as if asking me to be a friend to surrender.

I sat back down next to Polly. He panted heavily. I think his ribs were broken. I'm going to get a new tattoo. He blurted out. Please don't, I muttered back. As he pointed at the thing, the arachnid legs slowly came back down.

And little by little, the creature retreated into the compound, its young, scuttling back and forth between its legs. And from a distance. Even then, it was still hard not to see it as just a group of four people, just standing around in the dark. The two of us stayed up there, nodding in and out of exhaustion. I tried to keep Pauley stable, frantically looking up at the sky, waiting for the overcast to drift away. The morning had to come at some point.

Paulie and I spent hours up there, waiting for Vera and Neil to come back. They eventually did, bringing a couple of cops with him. They managed to help Pauli back down and attend to his wounds. He would end up losing the eye in surgery, but would otherwise make a full recovery. He actually got a tattoo of a spider later on. We've talked a lot about uploading our picture. and videos. But even now, looking back at what little footage we have, it just looks like people standing around in the dark. There's no attack or monstrous transformation. It doesn't look like

anything. Just people. Strange people, but people nonetheless. Neil talked to the cops about reinforcing the fence. As he suspected, the fours a crowd had gone through a sort of self-fertilization, reproducing without a mate. We'd done the equivalent of standing between an angry mother bear and her cubs. But then again, we lived to tell the tale. They didn't do much to prevent this from happening again. They fixed part of the fence, and they put up a new sign. I think the owners also came in to make some kind of statement, but I don't know about all that.

It's been a few years since then. I've tried my best to find a good time to talk about it, but I just never got it right. It was too important to just blurt out and too difficult to think about. Neil has taken down his YouTube channel and removed his videos, not wanting to get any more people to come look for the Forsa crowd. In fact, a lot of it has been scrubbed from the Internet, even the Wikipedia page, I think.

I think he works with some kind of riverboat rentals out east now. In a couple of months, Vera and Pauly are getting married. I think it's time we all put this behind us and we look to the future. As his best man. That's all I can do, really. Because even if there are monsters waiting outside, we can choose where we spend our nights. I choose to spend it here, far away, where the fire burns bright, far from the Foursa crowd.