<<transcript intercepted @ 20:34 on 12/18/12>>
"[Garbled plaintext]ot entirely sure what happened to my comments on STALKER.TXT. If possible, could you send the garbled text back so I may analyze it?
On this file...This particular tale was taken from an online "Creepypasta" website and seems to be some form of summoning ritual. There was some confusion in the comments, many people debunking the ritual as false. These comments ceased soon after a prominent user claimed they were going to test it, then never returned to the site. This user was known to be online at least every evening. Last I checked, the site had deleted this particular page, so I am fortunate to have copied and saved the text when I did. - E"
<<opening attachment: GLIMPSE.TXT>>
You’ll feel him long
before you see him.
It’ll start slowly at
first, the subtle little sensation of nervousness that he causes. Very subtle,
like tiny pinpricks. You might even brush it off as nothing more than a
mosquito bite itching down your spine, those are terribly common this time of
year. Funny how it works, nervousness. You could be entering one of the world’s
most peaceful of places, a park trail – any park trail will do – and it will
still strike you down, gradually at first, but then it becomes more and more
intense as you proceed off-trail (and you will, nervousness be damned). It’s
carried on the cool summer breeze here; it’s conveyed in the soft rustle of
leaves and the gentle creaking of swaying tree branches. All normal sounds,
yes, but then you’ll begin to notice what’s absent.
You’ll realize that the birdsong has gone curiously silent as you enter this
section of the woods, that the breeze somehow seems colder now, that the sun is
suddenly much lower in the horizon than you recall…
That’s your first
warning.
Your nervousness will
grow slowly to anxiety, and you’ll strain your ears to hear any sign of life,
any at all. But nothing will greet your ears, not a single bird, not crickets,
not even the peeping of tiny frogs. Nothing. You’ll hear nothing.
That’s because he’s close
by. And it’s your second warning.
You might then become
aware of the peculiarly familiar sensation of unseen eyes on the back of your
neck. Watching you from a distance. Following you. That’s your third and final
warning; you’re very close to him now. If you choose to leave at that point, if
you turn back, proceed out of the trail, and search no longer, you very well
might remain safe. Not that you’re perfectly safe, of course – he’s already
seen you by this point, and he always prefers to observe his prey before making
his presence physically known. Never return to that forest, that trail, or that
park again if you should choose to leave, or else he will become… bolder.
If you foolishly do not
decide to leave, however, and instead decide to further ignore the growing,
clawing feeling of fear in your chest, he’ll become much more… persistent. You
might even begin to feel ill and dizzy as you continue walking, and that is
something that only happens when he gets dangerously
close. If you continue to ignore him any further, you’ll get so nauseous and
dizzy that you’ll black out, collapsing to the forest floor.
You won’t wake up again.
He hates being ignored…
If instead, you stop
where you stand and peer into the dark and distant trees around you, into the forest
that seems to be slowly closing in on you with every step you take deeper into
it, you might notice something… off. Something just a bit out of place, though
finding it might take you a second or two. Even then, you might well not find
it at all, and if this is the case, consider yourself fortunate and leave
before he changes his mind. Sometimes, he’s merely satisfied with just making
you feel terribly nervous. If you feel a sudden, crushing dread and the
horrifically strong urge to turn and look behind you, immediately start running
out of the forest as far and as fast as you can; he is behind you. If you stand
for ten minutes searching and see nothing, leave the forest and do not return,
you’ve seen more than enough.
If, however, you do see
something, it will most likely look like a darker than average patch in the
trees, or like a bright smudge of white in the distance. Upon seeing either
item, you must focus directly upon it, and never look away from it for even a
second. To do so is to propose to him a challenge – a challenge that you will
never win. This may be difficult, and you might feel overwhelmingly sick, but
it is of utmost importance that you never look away. Eventually, if you focus
on the distant blur long enough, it will begin to resolve itself into a figure
– vaguely human, tall as the distant trees and about as thin. You may see it
with multiple arms, you may see what appear to be branches, you may see nothing
more than what seems to be a perfectly normal human being standing in the distant
woods. But regardless of what you might see, it will always have the same
appearance – suit-clad, with a red or black tie. It will never move from its
location, and you won’t be able to make out a face.
That’s because there
isn’t one.
The figure will remain
perfectly still, but if you weren’t feeling ill before, you will become ill now. It will make you
feel sick to your stomach and incredibly weary, it will make you feel anxious,
it will feel like it is staring into the most core parts of your soul, and you
will desperately want to look away from it to stop the crushing dread it
inspires in you. Do not take your
eyes off it at any point, and do not
blink. If you do either, the figure will
begin to get closer and closer, slowly cutting your chances of escaping from
this forest alive. And whatever you do, you must not turn and run, even if every impulse in your body screams at you
to do so. If you run now, the figure will
give chase, and you’ll be no more than another poor soul found dead the next
day in the trees.
Stare back at it long
enough, and the figure will seem to tilt its head in curiosity. You will feel a
sudden, unbearable desire to walk towards the distant figure. Under no
circumstances must you actually do so. Your desire to join the figure in the
distance will become almost irresistible, tormenting you with how much you will
desperately need to join it, but to
walk over to that figure will mean a slow and painful end.
If you can manage to
ignore the crushing need long enough, the figure will suddenly appear to fade
or melt back into tree line, into the shadows from which it first appeared. If
you now choose to walk over to the spot it once stood in, you will find
absolutely no trace of any creature, human or otherwise, having ever been
there.
Leave the forest
immediately. Walk out, run out, it doesn’t matter, as long as you leave the
forest, the trail, and the park immediately, and never return to it. The figure
you saw in the distance was him, and
he never forgets a face. Consider yourself fortunate enough to have survived,
for he has given you the briefest glimpse of himself, a very small taste of
what his many victims feel in his presence.
It won’t be the last time
you see him…
<<end transcript.>>
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