My friend got lost in the forest. When I went to look for him, something found me…

Blue Hour. A time of serenity. For me, anyway. It’s the only time of day I feel at peace. The rest of it is filled with paperwork and bland conversation. My escape from this routine is the outdoors. I grew up in the countryside in the late 80s. We were outside from dawn till dusk. We would explore the woods, play sports, do odd jobs and the like. Nowadays I scratch that itch through camping. Every Friday evening after work, I load up my old Tacoma and hit the road. Usually I go alone. Set up camp off the usual path, Start a campfire and cook my dinner, then sleep overnight in the forest, and take in the lack of sound as I drift away.

I pulled into the clearing off the side of the gravel road. The fallen tree lying in the same spot it has been for years. I’ve parked here almost every week for the last decade. I took a deep breath of the fresh wilderness air as I stepped out, the smell of pine filling my lungs. As I unload my pack from the backseat, I hear the familiar sound of a flowing river just behind me. This is my true home. Not my rundown apartment. This. I took a swig of my water, and headed into the woods, following the path I carved out from years of walking it. I walk past the same landmarks I have been for years. The small stream cutting into the soil halfway in. The large boulder, just a few hundred feet from the camp. I know my way. I know every step to take.

I reached my campsite. The familiar patch of blueberry bushes guarding the entrance. I would pick a few off, but they aren’t in season yet. I carefully step over them, and throw my kit onto the moist grass. I pulled my tent from my bag, and began to set it up just off the treeline. As I finished up, my phone buzzed in my right pocket. Matthew. My coworker. I had invited him at lunch to come along today. 

Matthew: Hey, what path do I turn down?

Brian: Look for the fallen tree off the side of a path, that’s the one you’re looking for.

Matthew: *Thumbs Up*

I flicked off the phone and dropped it back into my pocket. Since Matt was almost here, I decided to start a campfire so we could cook some dinner. I packed a few cans of baked beans for myself and Matt. I hope he likes baked beans. I never asked. I should’ve asked. I took a swig from my canteen, and walked off the campsite into the forest. Blue hour was turning to night, and the woods became invisible to my eye, so I brought along my head torch to aid my search. As I traversed and collected material, my foot kicked something hard. I peered down. A bone. A large bone. I’ve seen a lot of bones out in these woods, so this wasn’t particularly strange. I picked it up and began to inspect it. It was fresh. Likely dragged here by another animal within the last few days. I identified it as a bear femur. I’ve had a few encounters with black bears out here before. I once had a bear steal my dinner a few years back. I threw the bone back down where I had found it, and finished collecting what I came for.

I placed the materials into the center of the firepit. The same one I’ve been using since I started camping here. I like routine. I grab my flint and steel from my coat pocket, and begin to strike it. After 4 strikes, a small flame rises from the bottom of the pile. I carefully blow on the flame to fuel the fire, and throw a few more dry sticks into the mixture. I started to layer bigger pieces on until I had a nice, high and steady flame. I step back from the fire for a moment and sit in my fold-out camping chair. I take a hit of that campfire smell. My favourite scent. I shifted in my chair and fished my phone out from my pocket. I open my text conversation with Matt and begin to type.

Brian: Hey, you almost here? I got the fire started.

A short while passed, until my screen lit up.

Matthew: I think so.

Brian: Cool, just stick to the path.
Brian: Hey, do you like baked beans?

Matthew: *Thumbs up*

Brian: Alright, I’ll have a nice hot bowl ready for when you get here.

I cracked open both cans with my crude multi-tool knife, and dumped their contents into an old cooking pot. The bottom was black with ash; remnants of previous cooks. I placed it above the fire, suspended from a cooking stand. Smoke quickly began to rise from the inside. I occasionally stirred over the next 10 minutes, until they were fully cooked, and ready to eat. I portioned the pot into equal helpings, and waited for Matt to show. It would be rude to eat before my guest, after all.

The wind began to pick up, and the forest was shrouded in darkness. I peered at my phone. It was approaching 9:30 PM, and there was no Matt in sight. My last text to him was 15 minutes ago. The walk in takes 10 minutes. I shot another text to Matt

Brian: Hey, you almost here?

I waited 2 minutes. No response.

Brian: ???
Brian: Are you lost?

Nothing.

Brian: I’m gonna head up the path to find you, just stay put.

I slip my phone back into my pocket, and I take a deep breath. Don’t panic. He is just lost. City boy. Not used to the wilderness. I’ll go find him.

I push myself off the camp chair, and flick on my head lamp. I place the bowls of beans in my tent, and zipper it up. That’s our dinner, not some animal’s. I throw a log on the fire before leaving. I step back over the blueberry bush, and head right, up the path. I called out a few times early in my walk up the path, but heard nothing. So I kept going further and further.

I had to be nearing my truck soon. I’ve been walking for a good while now. Maybe he turned around and left. Not the first time it happened. I thought we were cool with each other. I took a rest for a moment, and leaned against a tall tree, turning off my head torch to save battery. I slipped my phone from my pocket, and immersed myself into the screen. I slid open my text app again, and sent a message to Matthew.

Brian: Where are you?
Brian: I’m shouting out, can you hear me?
Brian: Did you leave?
Brian: Your beans are getting cold.
Brian: Say something
Brian: If you don’t respond I’m going back to camp.
Brian: ???
Brian: Alright.

It hurt. A little, anyway. He turned around and left me. I cooked him beans. Maybe he got spooked and left? I don’t know. He could have at least told me. 

I let out a deep sigh, and put my phone into my breast pocket. I took a deep breath of the cold, wild air. I pushed off the log, and flicked my light back on.

Wait.

Where am I? This isn’t right. I was just on the path.

Wasn’t I?

My environment had shifted. At least it seemed that way. I didn’t even leave the path. I stopped on it. I think. I began to look around. I was in the center of a small clearing. It was flat. Trees and moss everywhere. I tried using my phone. Maybe I could still use the Maps app. I typed in my passcode. Granted, this time a little shaky. I scrolled through my folders, forgetting where I placed the app. It was in a folder called “Apple apps”. Duh. I opened it up, and at first was greeted with grids and buffering bars. But eventually, it began to piece itself together.

Where the fuck am I?

My icon adjusted. The circle of my location grew smaller and smaller, until it pin pointed me. 10km from the area of my camp.

What the fuck.

That’s not possible.

I’ve only been walking for 10 minutes.

I scooped my phone back out, and directed my attention to the time on the top of my screen.

12:52 AM.

What?

But…

How? It was just coming up on 10:00 PM?

I unlocked the phone once again. Hovering on the corner of my text app, was a red circle, with the number “13” encased inside of it. I clicked on the app, which immediately opened to me and Matthew’s conversation.

(9:09 PM) Brian: Hey, do you like baked beans?

(9:10 PM) Matthew: *Thumbs up*

(9:10 PM) Brian: Alright, I’ll have a nice hot bowl ready for when you get here.

(9:10 PM) Matthew: Thanks!
(9:14 PM) Matthew: I’m here.
(9:14 PM) Matthew: Where are you?
(9:15 PM) Matthew: ?
(9:16 PM) Matthew: Are you nearby?
(9:17 PM) Matthew: I’ll wait for you.
(9:22 PM) Matthew: Was that you?
(9:22 PM) Matthew: You walked past the camp?
(9:23 PM) Matthew: Stop messing with me man. 
(9:24 PM) Matthew: Why are you walking back and forth down the hill?
(9:25 PM) Matthew: It’s not you. Where are you Brian????
(9:25 PM) Matthew: I’m freaking out man.
(9:26 PM) Matthew: Please come back.

But. How?

Where did my texts go? The texts I just sent him moments ago? How did I not see these texts? How did I wander so far? What is happening? And what did Matt mean?

“It’s not you.”

Who was out there?

I turned around until the arrow of my phone GPS pointed me back to camp. The only thing I could do now was walk all the way back. I wouldn’t be staying the night. I began to walk, still dazed from the events that just transpired. I searched for reason in my head. Amnesia is the only thing that makes sense to me. How could that be? Did I fall and hit my head while trying to find Matt?

I continued walking. Carefully making my way through the trees and flora. None of this made sense, but right now that didn’t matter. My only goal was to get to safety. About 20 minutes in, my head lamp began to flicker. The batteries were giving out. I dimmed it to its lowest setting in hopes it would last for at least a few minutes, but it died right then and there. I sat down on the cushioned moss below me, and rested. I pulled out my phone to check the time. It was now 1:18 AM. I opened the maps app again to confirm I was still going the right way. The map began to load in, but before it could. My screen was cut to black. Another battery drained. Great.

There was no way I could make it back without light. There are expansive cave systems around here, with very steep drops. One wrong step and I’ll never be found. I guess I found my new camp for the night. At least it was soft, and not too moist. I stretched my legs out in front of me, and let my back hit the ground. I would have to rest here until daylight, and hopefully not freeze to death or get eaten by a bear.

I closed my eyes, and relaxed my body. I stopped trying to make sense of this situation. That could wait for the morning. I let my mind go blank, and listened to the soft brush of the trees, the sound of my heartbeat in my ear, now slowing. The sound of sticks and leaves cracking.

Wait.

I shot up, gripping my multi-tool in my pocket, expecting an animal. Worst case a bear. I looked straight, but couldn’t see. A blinding light was blocking my vision. Suddenly, a voice spoke to me.

Voice: Hey feller, you look like you need some help. Care to join me?

My eyes adjusted. Standing in front of me was an older man, with a large gray mustache. Donning a trucker hat, and coveralls with a flannel shirt, covered by a heavy black raincoat.

He was skinny. His cheeks sunk deep into his face, and he was covered in grime; but oddly… calming. Perhaps a side effect of my current situation. I stood up, and brushed myself off. I locked eyes with the man. They were light blue, with something in them.

Old Man: I saw your light from over there.

He slowly turned around and pointed his long, slender finger toward a structure. One I had failed to see beforehand.

Old Man: Why are you out here? Did you get lost?

Brian: I’m not sure… I was looking for a friend, and… I don’t know how I got here.

Old Man: Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Come with me.

He extended his hand, as if he wanted me to hold it. I reached out to shake it. As our hands clasped, he tightened his grip, and began to walk away from me, toward the building. He was unusually strong for a skinny old man. I shook my hand free, and told him I was fine to walk alongside him, and reiterated that I wasn’t injured.

Old Man: Okay.

He didn’t even turn to face me, he just kept walking. I froze for a moment, watching him leave me behind. Before he could turn around, I began to walk after him.

We reached the structure, which I now made out to be a cabin. The entire front was illuminated by a lantern, resting on the rail ledge. How could I have missed this before? It was glowing so bright, and yet I walked right past it?! In front of the cabin was a very large clearing. I couldn’t see anything out there, but I saw that the clearing tightened into a path down the way.

The old man carefully made his way up the steps, and sat in a rocking chair near the door. He rocked back and forth for a moment, before speaking up.

Old Man: My wife is inside. She is preparing you a nice drink and meal. Go in and fill your belly. After that, we will have a nice warm bed for you.

Well that’s nice of him. I guess. I gave him my thanks, and headed up the stairs. I pulled the latch on the bronze handle, and pushed the door open, letting out a large squeal from the hinges. It was dim, lit by another orange lantern, sitting on the dining table. The cabin looked old. The space was filled with old furniture pieces, and on the walls, paintings and photos of multiple different people. I peered around before landing my gaze on a large, dark figure standing behind the kitchen island.

I focused my eyes. It was a larger lady, with strawberry red hair, wearing a pink top and a white apron. She was humming a song. It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. I cleared my throat to get her attention. She didn’t budge. I then softly spoke.

Brian: Ma’am.

She turned around, holding a large ceramic mixing bowl, stirring up an unknown recipe with a whisk. She had a large smile on her face. She quickly placed the bowl down, and wiped her hands on her apron. She approached me.

Lady: Hello dear, come in, please. Make yourself at home!

She wrapped her hands around me, and gave me a big hug. A warm hug.

I let out a small chuckle before she let me go. She introduced herself as Mabel.

Brian: Thank you for having me. Sorry to barge in like this, but it’s been a hell of a night for me.

She let out a laugh, a loud laugh.

Mabel: Well, you’re home now, my dear. I got a nice drink in the making for you! Go on! Have a seat!

She smirked at me. Staring into my eyes. I grinned back.

I popped down onto the old chesterfield, and sat back, relaxing again. Mabel turned back around and started humming again, mixing up a concoction, which I assumed to be my “drink”. The hum was dizzying. I still couldn’t identify it, but it was so serene. I reached into my pocket for my phone, forgetting it had died. I patted my side, but didn’t feel the familiar lump. I started searching myself, but to no avail. Mabel turned around, and saw me frisking myself. 

Mabel: Ok honey, im just gonna go get the final ingredient for your drink, i’ll be right back!

A wave of calm washed over me once again. I was safe from the cold, with some nice folk. In the morning, I’ll head back to my camp and pack up. 

Mabel carried the bowl with her as she exited the cabin. I sat up and peered out the window. I watched as Mabel slowly descended the front steps. As she reached the ground, she began to walk into the large field in front of the cabin. Just before she left the glow of the light, she began to sprint into the darkness, in an unnatural way for her size.

I was startled, but.. I don’t know why. Nothing is wrong. Why am I startled?

She walked back into the light, now at a normal pace. She entered back in, still mixing the bowl. A dark, unidentifiable liquid stained her pasty, thick hands.

Mabel: Alright dear, let me get you a cup!

Brian: Thank you.

This house feels like home. Why does it feel like home?

She grabbed a metal goblet from the cupboard, and placed it carefully in front of her. She took a large ladle, and began to pour my drink into the cup.

Mabel: Is 3 scoops enough, dear?

Brian: That’s plenty Ma’am.

Mabel: Oh please, call me Mabel, hun.

She let out a laugh. A very comforting, maternal laugh. I laughed with her, and apologized for not using her name. She handed me the goblet. She had poured herself one too. She sat down across from me, and raised her cup in the air.

Mabel: Cheers hun!

Brian: Cheers!

We clinked our cups and drank. She stared at me as I sipped a mouthful. It is room temperature. On the thicker side. I can’t describe the taste. I can’t… I don’t know what it tastes like. I think there are clumps in it, but I’m not sure.

I finished my drink, and went to wipe my mouth with my sleeve.

Mabel: Hold on dear, here you are!

Mabel handed me a handkerchief from her apron pocket. It was hand stitched. I wiped my mouth clean, and extended my arm to give it back. She blocked my hand, and pushed it away.

Mabel: Oh no dear, you’re gonna need that in a moment. You hold onto it, okay?

Brian: Okay. Thank you.

Mabel stood up, taking our dishes with her, and placed them into a wash tub resting next to the counter.

She walked back toward the sitting area, and halted in front of me. She raised her hand as if to help me up. I obliged. She opened the front door and led me outside. Her husband was gone, no longer sitting on the porch. She spoke softly as she lead me down the steps.

Mabel: Come on dear, I need you to do something.

I hear cries. Someone is screaming. Are they okay? I’m not sure. They don’t sound happy. They sound upset. Why? Are they in danger? Maybe we are going to help him.

Brian: Mabel, who is upset? Are we helping them?

Mabel: I don’t know who it is, but yes, we are helping them.

We walk, and we walk. I start to notice more people. I don’t know who they are, but they are watching me and Mabel walk. They are wearing something.

I caught a glimpse of one, they’re wearing animal skulls on their heads. With something carved into the forehead. I can’t see that yet. Maybe I will see it soon.

The screams get louder. And before I know it, I’m standing in front of an altar. It kind of resembles a crucifixion. Someone is tied to a pole upside down.

The area begins to glow as the people light lanterns. I can now see who is in front of me, strung up. It’s Matt.

Brian: Hey, Matt. Where did you go?

Matt just screamed at me to help. How can I help?

Matt seems upset. Why is he upset?

Mabel put her arm over my shoulder, and began to whisper in my ear.

Mabel: We are gonna help him now. I need you to do me a favour.

Brian: What?

Mabel: You need to slit his throat.

What.

Slit his throat?

Brian: Why?

Mabel: I don’t know. He needs to be helped, and this is how we help.

Brian: Who told us to help?

Mabel: Our father. Our Deity.

Brian: Oh.

Mabel: He likes you, he told me. When you found the bone, he was alerted. He told me he likes you.

Brian: Who is he?

Mabel: He will show you, but first, you need to slit your friend’s throat. To help him.

Brian: To help our father?

Mabel: Correct.

Brian: Okay.

I need to help my father. I reach into my breast pocket, and pull out my crude, trusty, multi-tool. I flick the blade open, and stare at it for a moment. Mabel pulled her arm away from me. The spectators begin to chant. I can’t understand them. 

I approach Matt. He is starting to scream again.

Brian: What’s wrong Matt?

His mouth is gagged. Why is he gagged? Why does this feel wrong? I need to help my father, but it feels wrong.

I need to help him. Father.

I raise the blade and press it against Matt’s throat. I pull hard and deep.

Blood began to flow from his neck. Someone ran over and placed a bucket under his head. Collecting his blood. I swiped at his throat again. Blood came faster this time. So I kept doing it. Over, and over, and over. Then the blood stopped, and Matt stopped looking at me. I wiped the blade clean with the handkerchief, and placed both into my pocket.

Everyone cheered, and embraced me. I am happy. I helped my father.

Life has been pretty good with my family. Father is taking care of us. Me and Mabel cook for our family every day. They love our food. We also make the special drink every now and again.

We still help our father. We find more people, and give them to Father. Father likes that. He likes their souls. It’s what feeds our father. We leave their bones in the woods. So when someone finds them, we find them, and we bring them home as well.

I am happy now. My family loves me. We are very close. We have a lot of fun. I’m glad I’m here. 

My family. They bring me serenity. Only they make me happy.