Chapter 1: Rabid Schizophrenia

It was time for the journey. I had sold quite a few of my valuables in order to afford any sort of supplies. My funds dried quickly as I put a large amount of it into my car. I replaced the breaks that constantly squeaked and got the pitch black oil changed. I replaced the broken back window and bought 2 tires. The rest of the money was for supplies like food and water. I bought whatever was cheapest as I had lost my sense of taste. That morning the dreams waned slightly. As if it no longer had a reason to berate me with the constant nightmares; I was doing as it wanted. As I rise following the sun I prepared myself and left my apartment. The road would be harsh as it was late spring and the constant showers have eroded the pothole filled streets of the city. As I drive along the dirty streets I stopped at a red light and was approached by a homeless vagrant. He was in tattered rags but his eyes seemed too focused and bright to be among the downtrodden of society. He had a sign across his neck "Jacob Smith. Doomsayer. 1 dollar.". Looking at him I was struck with a strong urge to see what he had to say, his gaze seemed to beckon me and my already fractured, weak mind couldn't resist the call. I pulled out a dollar and extended it outside my passenger window with effort leaning over from the drivers side. As he approached I felt as if I had made a mistake, a sudden dread overcame me and though I couldn't place my finger on it I noticed his gaze switch; it felt as if I had fallen into sight of an apex predator. His knowing gaze and wolfish smile sent shivers down my spine. It shook me so much I thought of running the red light to avoid interacting with him. But as though he was the wind he grabbed the dollar and began speaking "Altor dar nagath, Kilest yetorn desh galtarn fros de Nacar.". His words pierced my mind and though I couldn't understand them I felt that just hearing the words opened me up to forces yet unseen. My paranoia rose to the extreme but luck was on my side. The light had turned green.

After driving away from the homeless man I looked upon my rearview mirror and what I saw sent shivers upon my soul. I saw me for the first time in years. My once light brown hair was now a dark grey. My vibrant brown eyes now dulled and dead. Underneath my eyes were bags so grotesque, so deep I felt the urge to scream in disgust. As I saw myself my eyes started to bleed, black bile dribbled from the sides of my mouth, and hundreds of small pimples manifested on my tannish white skin exuding a yellowish puss. I felt all of it. The shock and pain almost caused me to swerve on the densely packed road. After 15 minutes of driving I started to touch my face. I subconsciously hoped what I saw was just a hallucination. I sighed in relief as I felt no bags under my eyes and as my hand moved it wasn't stained red or yellow. In foolish hope I looked to my rearview mirror hoping the physical affirmation of my normal state would drive off the sudden hallucination. But I didn't see me in the mirror. No, had I seen the sight of bloody eyes, puss filled pimples, black stained mouth, and cave like grotesque bags it would have been a mercy. No, instead I saw Locke's lifeless corpse staring at me; His skull was shattered and his face was the remains of a fragmented wooden carving. I saw in pristine detail the entry hole of the bullet that ended his life. I started in abject horror as Locke's lips moved "Altor dar nagath, Kilest yetorn desh galtarn fros de Nacar."The sight and sound must have caused some sort of sudden madness as when I regained my sanity I was all the way in the south side of Columbous, Ohio a whole 6 hour drive from my original location.

My body ached as I surveyed my surroundings. I saw large buildings and the roads were littered with pot holes and an impoverished hoard of people. As I started adjusting myself to figure out my next course of action a loud *Bang* quieted the busy streets. It seemed a shooting was undergoing and so I drove out as fast as I could. After getting my bearings I started to drive towards Michigan. I was exhausted from the sudden barrage of mental anguish I was wholly unprepared for. The dreams, the hallucination: Never before have the hallucinations had sound. They were like silent pictures of dread...but to hear Locke's voice again. To hear his voice dribble that of the cursed tongue in which was first uttered by the strange homeless vagrant. As I heard it again I subconsciously understood its meaning. It seemed to be some sort of prophesy. Nacar...Necro...Necrotic...Death. It was some type of prophesy foretelling death of some kind. I can only hope it is the death of these haunting dreams and hallucinations.As I continued my journey the hallucinations ceased when I drove towards the forest's direction, but whenever I made a turn or stopped to refill my gas they would set upon me like hungry wolves. It seems it's growing impatient. After 13 years it cannot wait to grasp its ancient gnarled trunks upon me, to inflict some sort of grisly fate I had no doubt.

I was close now. Having reached the town of my youth I drove down Spicerville highway and breathed in the country air. It would have been refreshing had it not been drowned out by the stench of fertilizer and animal carcasses. I stopped just before main street at the 4 way intersection. As I stopped I could swear I saw that homeless man. Jacob Smith, the doomsayer. But that's impossible: he should still be 3 states away in Missouri. I averted my eyes to the familiar looking vagrant hoping that if my sight didn't reach him he would not exist. But another damnable redlight barred my way forward and curiosity forced my eyes upon the doomsayer. He was here. Through what means he used I am not sure. Perhaps he hitch hiked here when I went into a psychosis on the road. But, its too much of a coincidence that he'd be here. Eaton Rapids is a small town and when I lived there I found it had no real significance on the wider world. Why would a homeless vagrant come a whole 13 hour drive to this place?His sign appeared to be different as well "Jacob Smith. Doomsayer, Free.". As I pondered on how he arrived here he was at my window in the middle of the street as I needed to make a left. I attempted to roll up my window but before I could he released a bundle of words that had no English definition "Nacar fetro isten mil retor yem hork. Kilest yetorn desh galtarn fros de Nacar.". It felt as though my brain was melting as the vagrant chanted phrases that caused my soul to retch in despair. I slammed my foot on the gas pedal as the vagrant attempted to pronounce another maddening chant. I ran the red light and made my way down South main street. Never before have such hurdles barred my way. I feel as though I am an ancient Greek hero undergoing trials no mortal should have to. But unlike such heroes I do not think I have the proper metal to succeed. I am of low birth, poorly focused in school, I have done terrible things over the past year that I severely regret; that weigh me down like sand beneath the vast ocean. I am not going to overcome these trials. I will simply crumble under its weight and all this will finally be over. Of course I'm not gonna just roll over, I'd have killed myself already if I was drowned that deep in despair. No, if this damnable forest wants me then by god I'm gonna walk into its domain and make it work for it. I refuse to hand over my soul willingly though I don't think I can win against such a malevolent force.

As I drive I find myself alone at night after taking a right down Water street next to the Methodist Church. I am severely tired, malnourished, and dehydrated. I pulled over to the side of VFW road in order to collect myself. After some 6 hour rest, food, and water I continued my journey but not before being confronted by some rebellious looking youths. They each seemed to be 16 years old the three of them walking around my car. They crudely rebuked my vehicle and my physical appearance. I pleaded with the youths "Please make way I have somewhere to go.". The youths seemed to be farm boys as their skinny arms but large torsos told me. Before I knew it I was pulled out of the vehicle. It seemed these youths were prone to criminal acts as they soon started to assault me. As they began stomping and punching I curled into a ball before loosing consciousness.As I awoke I found myself bruised and battered to the point of resembling a corpse. I began walking with no phone or car. I was unarmed except for the .357 Magnum the was concealed in a under shirt holster. As I walked I had found that I was 10 minute walking distance away from the VFW and so I began heading towards that direction. Soon I reached the VFW and what I saw horrified me. The three youths seemed to have crashed as police and ambulances were all over the VFW. At first I thought they had simply died in the crash but as I walked past to get towards the forest I noticed something. A large claw mark on the passenger door. Looking at it gave me chills. Whatever did this must be at least 2 times larger than a grizzly bear. The claws encompassed the entirety of the door, continuing onto the car. Just the width of the claw marks was twice the size of my forearms and a putrid black ooze resembling burned oil lead away from the car...towards the dark forest beyond. I stopped walking. Just looking at the after effects of this creature caused me to pause in a dizzying madness. I stood there about 600 feet or so from the forest and in my temporary madness could see the shapes of dancing shadows and unseen spirits. They danced madly uttering some sort of prayer that sounded so clearly in my mind "Altor dar nagath, Kilest yetorn desh galtarn fros de Nacar.". It wasn't some kind of prophesy but some sort of ritual chant having to do with death. In my delirium I must have caused some commotion as when I had regained my sanity I was inside a hospital.

After I awoke I pleaded to know what was going on. An officer nearby came to me "When officer William approached you, you started chanting something in a foreign language and doing some sort of ritualistic dance. You had major bruising all over your body and your head was bleeding. The doctor can tell you more but I have some questions for you.". Officer Hadley asked me who I was. I cooperated as much as possible. Of course I dared not tell her of my delusions nor my visual and auditory hallucination's. She'd find me mad and use it against me as women tend to do. After a few day's of questions and investigation the whole affair was deemed to be a motor vehicle theft which resulted in the kid's crashing. After running the cars plates they found it was mine from all the way to Missouri. Upon being questioned I told them I was revisiting my home town. Officer Hadley seemed to have bought it as she began asking me mundane and boring questions of my early life in Eaton Rapids. All three kid's died but I overheard a doctor talk about their deaths. Only 1 of the three died on impact, the driver. It seems my airbags failed causing the kid to smash upon the steering wheel. He also seemed to not have had his seatbelt on and so he was flung from the car; his body breaking upon one of the brick houses. The other two were said to have been...savagely ripped apart as though some wild animal was trapped in the car with them. But overhearing many conversations in the hospital I started to piece things together. My vehicle did not crash upon one of the houses. No, it seems some large force slammed into the right side of the car, opposite of the VFW and the forest. Upon the sudden stoppage one kid flung from the car crashing upon one of the brick houses...the other two were ripped apart while stuck in their seat belts. Unable to move they were savagely ripped apart by this beast.

This is what I could piece together however there is much I cannot fathom about this. Why did it come from the right of the car? Did it know my car would drive down the road...and perhaps was that beast meant for me? My mind raced for answers. Why did it run to that damned forest and what the hell was this creature. Was I meant to die or was this some sort of cruel jest from the insidious forest. Or, more horrifyingly, what if this is all some sort of psychosis and none of what I am currently sensing with my 5 senses is real? A prisoner trapped within my damaged mind. I soon ceased this line of thinking as it would only cause me more undue stress. Once released I started walking. None of the officer's or hospital staff offered me a ride, they all stared at me with a look of knowing. Perhaps they know that I'm starting to loose my mind. I hastened my steps less they see any reason to toss me in a loony bin. After walking a considerable distance I began to hitch hike. I needed to get to that forest and with my magnum still tucked into my under jacket holster I felt confident that I could ward off the large monstrosity that viciously attacked the kids. As I waited a vehicle pulled up beside me. The driver looked vaguely familiar and to my horror he looked almost identical to the doomsayer, Jacob Smith. I started to sweat and take in large breathes of air as I tried to calm myself. The entire way I was waiting for this speaker of dead languages to utter his terrible words. It filled me with dread and with the way he glanced at me, I came under the understanding he must be feeding off my negative emotions. I opened the passenger side door and threw myself out onto the road. I rolled with my descent hoping to mitigate any damage to myself. Afterwards I ran like a wind spirit hoping the man wouldn't chase me outwards into the fields. After walking for what seemed to be half an hour the sky had darkened and shadow befell the land around me.

I had somehow found the VFW with no direction. Fate led me here, It was inevitable to end up outside this terrible forest. As I peered past the trees I noticed a peculiar thing. The forest was dead silent. I heard no nocturnal creatures; not even the sounds of bugs or swaying trees. It was as if the forest was dead yet visually as nightmarishly lively as always. With a deep breath I steadied myself and began my trek through these gnarled woods to find it. But what was it? I have no clue. I feel a pull here and so some subconscious process requires I find something inside these mute woods. I can only hope I find it quickly before the creature that savagely murdered the kids finds me. For even though I had my revolver I had no clue how fast the lumbering creature was. I can only hope that along with it's large size came a slowness befitting such a gargantuan beast. There was a path inside the forest. It led further inside and upon wandering down the path memories of a long forgotten past emerged. Me and Locke wandering these woods along with 4 other friends who's name's escape me. We were dumb kids and drank on a lone bench further inside the forest up on a hill. Upon this memory I realized I had to find the bench further down the path. It was the key to unlock further memories to hopefully remind me of what happened the night of Locke's death. Upon walking slightly further onto the forest path I heard a queer sound behind me. In fright I swiftly pulled out my .357 Magnum and held it with both hands as I spun around. To my absolute horror I found the path leading out of the forest...was gone. In it's stead I found only more gnarled and vibrant trees. I stared for god knows how long at my now closed exit. My only response towards my capture was the sounds of me putting 6 rounds into the chamber. I patted my pocket and found I only had the 6 rounds. The rest laid in my now devastated vehicle. I made a mental note to save 1 bullet as I turned around and followed the path further into the vast expanse of abyss like woods.