<<transcript intercepted @ 18:24 on 12/22/12>>
[Once more, the plaintext version of E's normal notes on this transcript were unable to be decrypted, just giving strings of gibberish. For context this was one of the first I tried to make more legible. For some reason the transcript and the file name were encoded in a much more breakable cipher than the notes. It's the same case on the next transcript as well. My guess is that E's trying to hide his connection to the Sycamore Foundation, or they've caught on to whatever⊕ was doing to intercept their messages. - Willow]
<<opening attachment: PURSUIT.TXT>>
She had to keep moving.
The trees whipped by her
in a blur, bark blending with leaves blending with brush. Her legs’ aching
muscles complained as she ran; her lungs were afire from the lack of oxygen.
Her mind thought only one obsessive thought as her panicked blue eyes scanned
the forest for her pursuer.
I need to hide.
Nothing. Nothing but the
branches above her met her frightened gaze, and still she could not shake the
feeling she was being watched, the sick dread that rose in her throat to choke
the air from her lungs. But nothing at all is what she found, and nothing at
all was watching her panic. And that was the worst possible position in the
world that she could have found herself in.
She racked her brain for
reasons why she decided being here would be a good idea before finally
remembering it. Her curiosity. Her own damned curiosity and skepticism had been
what brought her out here, to this forest of fear. She’d heard the stories her
friends told her about this particular park, about the kids who used to
disappear around here (and sometimes, still did)… about him. He was called by many names, too many to count, and every
person gave a different description of him, but a few things remained constant
in every story she’d heard. He was switchblade thin, inhumanly and impossibly
so. He dressed impeccably, a black suit his ensemble, a skinny necktie the only
adornment. And he was incredibly, enormously tall, so tall that, if he got too
close to you, you had to crane your neck upwards in order to see his
non-existent face staring back down, pinning you where you stood, keeping you
paralyzed. Of course, she didn’t believe a word of it, not for a second, no
matter how paranoid the stories made her feel on the inside. After all, how
could something without a face really, possibly exist? And so, she’d come here
alone, to this unassuming little park, her camera phone in hand and capturing
everything with its mechanical eye, and she’d set out deep off-trail to debunk
this urban legend for the myth it was.
Such a shame, then, that
she actually found him, and that she discovered that not only were the stories
all true, they were all so much worse
than she’d been lead to believe. After all, it was terribly hard to deny that
the man, whom she’d thought five seconds ago was another off-trail explorer, was
slowly closing in on her. And it was
terribly difficult not to scream when
he finally got close enough to reveal the blank canvas that passed for his
face, the shadows that followed him like a thick cloak, the abyssal black suit
with the red necktie that seemed to suck all light from the world around her…
Most of all, it was abundantly clear to her, as she backed away slowly from the
immensely tall and slender figure, that he was very definitely not a man, let alone a human being…
Some sick feeling of
being observed penetrated her chest to shoot down her spine as she ran, the
camera phone still recording as she did so. The prickling dread was her only
cue that he was still after her, the only warning that she wasn’t safe yet. Her
feet launched her forward with a speed born only of the worst kind of fear, and
she ran until she could no more.
That was when she found
the grotto – small, carved from the tree’s base by age. If she was careful, she
might just be able to fit inside it, provided she kept quiet and covered it.
Her frame was certainly small enough to fit…
She scampered quickly into
the grotto, curling her small-boned frame up as much as possible and pulling
thick pine brush branches over her hiding place. Hopefully, he hadn’t seen her
run inside, and didn’t know where she was. Hopefully…
Speak of the Devil, she thought morosely as he appeared in the
small clearing, standing eerily still as he flickered into existence. The one
thing on his body that did move were the black, purely dark shadows that
swirled and curled furtively around him, tentacle-like. They moved seemingly of
their own accord, flowing like inky waves behind him, breaking off and
dissipating in the sunlight that shone through the canopy as he slid
frictionlessly forward, gliding slowly around the clearing and towards the
tree… towards her.
He knows, she thought fearfully as she buried her face into her
arms, too afraid to look any longer. God, he was close. So close, she could
feel the dark energy radiating from him, sending waves of ever more intense
nausea as he slid gradually closer. So close that she could see the impeccable
polish on his black dress shoes, so close that she could have reached out and
touched the smartly folded cloth of his black pants cuff…
Oh yes, he knew where she
was hiding, surely he had to know. Every legend she’d ever heard, every story
she’d ever read, they all had one thing in common – his victims never escaped. Not for long. He was
fully aware of exactly where she was
hiding and he could clearly see her despite his lack of eyes, she was sure of
it. The cold prickling on her flesh and the dizzy, anxious nausea in her
intestines told her so. He knew exactly
where she was, and any second now he would reach down and tear the flimsy
foliage from her hiding place, exposing her. And then… then she’d have no place to run to.
Tears sprung fresh in her
eyes at the thought of being in such an awful position, unable to escape from
his darkness, unable to hide, and she bit her tongue to hold back a fearful
whimper.
He must not have heard
her, instead gliding away from her hiding spot and slowly melting back into the
shadows he came from, the writhing black shadows that enveloped his emaciated
frame, and he vanished entirely from view within seconds. Just as slowly, he
flickered back into view a few feet back, far enough back that she could see
the entirety of his rangy figure, standing eerily still in the tree line.
Staring, right at her, through her, into her through the brush covering the
grotto. Staring, with no eyes, set in a face he didn’t have.
That was one thing the
stories didn’t tell you about, she
thought morosely as she squished herself further against the far wall of the
grotto. They never told you what it felt like to be watched by him, to have that eyeless stare lock onto you, searing holes into your very being.
Reading you. Scanning you. Those stories never said a word about how childlike
and scared he made you feel, or about the awful, cold dread that dug its claws
into your heart when he was nearby. And all because of the laser-like intensity
and precision of that hellish stare…
He tilted his head ever
so slightly, as if amused by the panicked thoughts of what he was to her, and
slowly faded from existence, a mirage dissolving into nothing.
She didn’t move for about
five minutes. She knew far better than to assume that he’d left her alone. She
knew well enough that he played mind
games with his targets, baiting them, tormenting them… sometimes for years.
He was probably still close by, waiting for her to move, waiting for her to let
her guard down… But what other choice did she have? She could either wait here
for him to come back and drag her, screaming, from hiding… or she could make a
break for it, and have a chance, however slim, of getting away from him for at
least a moment. Anything, anything at all
would be far more preferable to the raging nausea that roiled in her stomach
now, anything to escape that bedeviling gaze of his…
She inhaled. Exhaled.
Counted slowly up to five.
And burst from the grotto
with speed to rival that of a scared jackrabbit’s.
It wasn’t long before the
prickling down her vertebrae began again, cold and unforgiving, increasing in
intensity as she ran. He was breathing down the back of her neck; he was
closing in slowly, getting closer, closer… There was no way she’d ever outrun
him at this rate, not in his own territory. He knew it far better than she
could ever hope to know. She’d have to find somewhere that he couldn’t easily get to, or at least
somewhere that he couldn’t easily reach…
She noticed the tall elm
slightly before she almost ran into it.
Her nervous blue orbs
scaled the elm urgently. That lowest branch would be a bit of a jump to get to,
but this tree had to be a good 30 feet tall or more. Certainly, it was much
taller than he was…
Steeling herself for the
jump, she ran at the branch, launching herself upward to grab it. Her hands
slipped and groped feebly as her arms wrapped around the thick limb and she
nearly fell back onto the ground again. No, not now, she couldn’t fall now, if
she fell now she’d never get to safety in time…
C’mon you can do it, just climb up, please climb up, please please please please please!
She slowly, shakily
hoisted herself up and onto the branch, stabilizing herself against the tree’s
sturdy trunk. The prickling on the back of her neck was intensifying, she
didn’t have much time left before… before he…
Limb by limb, branch by
branch she clambered up the tree, never daring for a second to look down for
fear of vertigo claiming her… She had
to keep moving, had to keep climbing,
had to get as far away from the
ground as possible… she had to be at least a good 25 feet up by now, nearly at
the top of the tree. She could see almost the entire forest from here, surely
he couldn’t reach her here.
She sat on the branch she
stood on, carefully ensuring she didn’t fall as she clung to the limb and edged
herself against the trunk to make herself as small as possible.
It was at that moment he
flickered into existence before her again, his blank head swiveling back and
forth as he searched for her before finally swinging upwards to the branches
above. His sightless gaze scanned the canopy, seeking out his terrified,
shaking prey…
And found her.
She shrunk down even
further, as if she could meld with the branch to camouflage herself. Even a
thick tree limb couldn’t stop that awful gaze from piercing her, rending her,
ripping her apart with its intensity… and… frustration?
Yes… she felt it now,
clear as day – definite frustration emanated from that hellish gaze of his.
Frustration, and deep thought… The uncannily dark, fluid shadows around him
seemed to thrash irritably as he flickered in and out of sight around the elm’s
sturdy base, first here, then there. It was as if he was judging the best angle
of approach, the best method of attack to retrieve his prey from the treetops…
She no more than blinked,
and he suddenly seemed to be twice as tall as he was before, his blank canvas
face only ten feet from her, his long arms reaching upwards to grasp her.
She let out a
bloodcurdling shriek of fear as she backed into a small junction between the
trunk and tree branches, curling into as small a ball as possible. She didn’t
dare look down for fear of finding his blank mask of a face staring back at her
through the branches again, staring with no eyes, staring with that unbearable,
blood-freezing gaze.
C’mon, girl, don’t panic now, she thought fearfully, burying her
face into her arms. Panic is exactly what
he wants…
Long, icy fingertips
brushed her legs and feet, sending an
unearthly chill up into her spine. Her body quivered in fear at his touch, her
heart clambered into her throat; her stomach twisted in nauseous knots…
She dared look down at
him, only to see him staring upwards at her, now standing at his original
height. The shadows around him curled and twisted leisurely. Had she done it?
Had she really managed to beat him at his own game?
His head inclined in thought
as his gaze continued to pin her to the branches above. The shadows flowed
gently around him, moving even slower now as if he’d realized something…
Slowly, one inky tendril
of shadow extended from the black mass around him, reaching for the nearest branch.
It wrapped one, two, three times around the limb, clinging stubbornly. Another
shadowy extension followed suit, gripping the next branch up. Then two more,
clinging higher above as he lifted himself from the ground like a
disproportioned spider, then another, gradually pulling his absurd and lanky
figure upwards towards his prey.
Her heart sank, and a
weak little sob that was nearly a sad laugh escaped her throat as she watched
him creep awkwardly closer and closer. She really should have known better.
Of course a forest
dweller would be able to climb trees.
<<end transcript.>>
No comments:
Post a Comment