Estimated reading time — 21 minutes

I’m just a college student who has come to Croftmire for anything but fun. So, why’d I come all the way from Montana here? Consider it a way to honor my friend from childhood; and as a way to get my head out of the pity I felt since my girlfriend, and I broke up. Her name was Susie, and she had hair like the night itself, and her pretty blue eyes were like pearls. She wore a leather jacket with various metal band patches on them. Testament sadly wasn’t on that list. I always loved that kind of music. People who write about extreme stuff without a care in the world are those I respect the most.

Somebody would probably ask, “Why Croftmire?” Well thing is, it’s the history of the town that intrigues me, I am no Historian, I’m a senior Finance Major; but come on, who doesn’t want to go to a place that legends say houses a werewolf population, or the God of Death Samhain himself, or an ancient Tribunal of Gods who judge the actions of mortals for pleasure. Interesting huh? That is just one of many stories. One of numerous ones.

Upon looking at my map, I see the marker of, Highway 560. Three miles away from me, traffic was surprisingly light on a 10:00 a.m. Saturday the night before Halloween. One of my least favorite holidays ever. Not because of the kids, trick or treating, and that nonsense but because of the fear it induces, that monsters, ghosts, and other ghastly specimens are amongst us–it petrifies me. Once I had a terrible event happen in eighth grade with my friend, Michael.

Turning at the highway exit, I began to feel real tired and worn out. So instead of drinking some leftover expresso under my radio, I drove straight to that motel to try and get some sleep as quickly as possible. A bit hungry though…damn.

After stopping at a Wendy’s, I ate my two crispy chicken sandwiches and a small fries. Man, the number of fries they gave me was crazy. This was supposed to be small. Real generous folks for sure. I gulped all the food down, wiped my greasy hands with a napkin, and got back on track to the motel. I was kind of glad to leave because I could smell the oil coming from the store. That poison can’t be good for you.

When I finally arrived at the motel, I felt so happy. I got my room key and went straight up to room: “214”, which was above me. I was surprised when the employee told me there were a total of seven floors in this motel. Afterwards, I thanked him, and he calmly said, “Happy Halloween.” I smirked lightly and returned the gesture before heading up to my “suite.”

Opening my room, I was impressed with its cleanliness and pretty much expected nothing less. I took a shower in a nice bathtub fitted with travel guide soap, and a transparent shower door that gave me some privacy. I haven’t been in a motel since my trip with Susie to the Bahamas. Man, that was like three years ago. What a good time that was.

After my shower, I brushed my teeth, got dressed, and went straight to sleep. That queen-sized bed was extremely comfortable and made me realize just how much I needed a new mattress. Shit was like stone. It was exactly 11:15 p.m.

Waking up, I left the motel around 10:00 p.m. to have some fun around town. But first I needed to buy some groceries. So, I went to this fresh produce market just three miles away from my location. Leaving my room, I could see paintings of elk faces on most sides of this floor. I must’ve really been exhausted for not spotting this earlier cause the detail on them was impressive. Every hair was visible, and I could even spot a sort of light in its eyes. I walked towards my car and started it, eager for the day to come.
Getting on a road right under the highway I noticed Jack O’ Lanterns posted on the side entrances of almost every gas station and store. These folks really did love Halloween that’s for sure.

Once I arrived at the grocery store, I got all the stuff I needed and proceeded to the cashier to pay for it. She was a fair-looking woman maybe around the same age as me with blonde hair, I looked at her green apron and read her name tag beside her breast–it read: “Layla.”

“You like Eric Clapton” I jokily asked.

“Of course, I do.” She laughed after she replied.

“Well, that’s a start.”

After she blushed, she said, “Start, for what?”

“Oh…nothing,” I said waving my hands around frantically trying to defuse the situation.

I waved goodbye to her; she said Happy Halloween to me. She made me feel warm inside, but also great sorrow. For I missed Susie like crazy. She and I were together for six years. If it wasn’t for my drug use, we still would’ve been together. I would’ve been content. Pills destroy lives, and other people’s ones too.
Once I was outside again, I rapidly inhaled some cinnamon-smelling fresh air. Its scent emanated from the stash right beside me.

Then a strange elderly man came up to me, “You ever heard of the Night Tracker, kid?” He exclaimed loudly. He surprised me. I didn’t know what in the Hell he wanted. The stranger wore a black newspaper boy hat, a large jacket, and onyx trousers. He started to come closer to me with a cane in his hand. Looked about in his late seventies.

“Umm…no. Should I know him?” Wanting to laugh out loud I repressed it as best I could.

“Everyone here does…So…you’re an outsider.” His eyes enlarged like a rabid animal. “Just you wait, there’ll be a murder soon tonight. He loves this place it’s his hunting ground. Legend says he’s immortal. That he can survive any bullet you shoot at him. Guy’s like a shadow.”

“Know anything else about him?” I asked filled with curiosity. Maybe I judged him too soon. I’d come to rid my negative thoughts with intriguing possibilities, of some form of closure–this was the one. This was him!
“Yes, I do.” The wrinkly dude responded, “He’s a spirit that can smell you, his scent is better than any dog. Beware the Man in the Curved Hat! The Bandoliered Knifer! Physmanoc! Sadist of the Tribunal! The Night Tracker!

‘The Night Tracker?’ ‘Physmanoc?’ ‘Sadist of the Tribunal?’ Getting frightened from his description I told the man I had to leave and quickly drove anywhere but there. I turned around to look and he was staring at me, with his weird watery, insipid eyes. I accelerated the car and pulled out Waze. I was hoping to find some spot that was calming and nice. That’s when I saw the icon of Crestfall Lake which was featured in one of my “recommended locations” on the app. Thank goodness for incredible technology when it works of course.

On my way there, more than thirty cars joined me on the road. Where trees, almost naked were everywhere. I could see a nice little shack in the distance, but it was all the way up a mountain. I have good eyesight so that’s why I could even spot it. I waved to some cyclists on the bicycle lane of the road and drove closer to my destination.

Parking near the lake, I stepped out and went towards the way to the pond that’s when a bunch of fog surrounded the leave-filled landscape. It was so blinding I could barely see until I almost tripped on a wooden table near a grill, and a trash can. I sat down and spotted the fog reaching the lake. Started to sweat a bit. That’s when I heard sirens.

As the fog dissipated, I spotted five cops and a crew of forensic investigators. They turned to me and asked if I had seen anything. I was heavily perspiring at that point, and my navy-blue sweater tightened. Not to mention my Harley Davison belt.

Another officer asked me that same question again, and I said that I’d just arrived. They asked permission to search me. Permission granted. Afterwards, I asked what happened, and they told me it was a murder. Someone extraordinarily strong stabbed a twenty-year-old woman in the stomach, and chest, six times, then took her right ear off. I was startled like crazy after that, and I felt like I didn’t need to see the body. The police told me it was best to let the forensic scientists handle it. They wanted me to leave the lake as it would be closed for the safety of the public. I agreed and tried to be lighthearted wishing them a “Happy Halloween” It didn’t work obviously. I then sadly departed the lake.

When I got into my car, I was filled with unfulfillment like I needed to have something stimulating to do. That’s when I thought about that peculiar old man, about the Night Tracker, and looked back to this startling scene. A murder committed in the afternoon, when fog appeared out of nowhere, in a place where constant sunniness was predicted. I felt very strange. Need to keep a close lookout around my surroundings.

I arrived back at the motel room, where I quickly made some rice, and spiced chicken for myself, plus a little salad with strawberries, lettuce, and cabbage in it. Susie and I always loved to cook together. We just shared a natural bond together. I miss that. I remember one day, when I was making brownies for the first time for Valentine’s Day, I burned some of my batch so I spread some Nutella on the burned parts so she wouldn’t notice the taste as much. She came home, immediately tasted them, and barely noticed the difference (or so I thought). I began to laugh silently, while she questioned what was up. I told her it was nothing, and she came close to me, kissed me, and said, “I could never live without you…even if you burnt these brownies.” Hearing that voice in my head made me so sad and livid all at the same time.

Fell asleep for a while cause I got bored watching TV ‘til I instantly woke up after hearing my remote controller fall on the ground. Observed my surroundings and checked my clock, it was 6:30 p.m. I got up, grabbed my green flashlight, and looked around until I felt a brush of wind hit me. Suddenly, I heard footsteps, and a hand violently pushed me to the bed. It was the…Night Tracker. It had to be! He’d somehow found me, and had a sharp-edged knife wedged in my throat. He was silent, but I knew what he was here for. He was clearly giving me a Hell of a warning to stay outta his turf. I could make out his black bandana, infamous crooked hat, a petrifying bandolier of knives, and long duster coat with some mud on the bottom ends. Bastard managed to get some of it on the immaculate floor. His appearance perfectly matched the old man’s description. I was so terrified that my mind attempted to rationalize this unexplainable event that had manifested itself in my room, was this a literal legend trying to murder me, or just a sick Halloween joke?

“You think this is funny? Is this some kinda trick? Do you know what this monster has done? If you’re the real guy, why don’t you just finish it off right now, huh? Huh, you freak?” I was shaking, perplexed, yet enraged as I uttered those words.

The Tracker remained mute, he cut me on the side of my neck sending me into a panic attack, making my heart feel like dynamite. My stomach hurt in fear. He ran out the door, into the motel floor and disappeared like a mirage.

“Quick, somebody, get him! He broke into my room and tried to kill me, somebody call the police, please!” Nobody came though. No one cared. Regardless, as he was running, I spotted a strange pendant; a silver one with an elk symbol etched in it. It matched the design all over this motel. Despite all those obvious signs, if that were the real Night Tracker, he would have killed me right on the spot before I even knew what had hit me. He would have taken my life and cut out a trophy from my flesh as a keepsake. This guy was an imposter.

I applied hydroperoxide to my neck wound, then I covered it with some gauze bandages that I brought for the journey. Glad I came prepared. I didn’t need stitches for it. Bleeding should stop very soon. If his incision would’ve been an inch or two deeper, he could’ve killed me by puncturing a major artery. I’d perish from blood loss and a cutoff of oxygen and sanguine to the brain. Afterwards, I popped two Ibuprofen to numb the pain. It wasn’t that bad, but I didn’t want to feel anything. I thought about my family and friends. How they had no idea of the state I was in. I didn’t call any of them because this was a personal mission for me. I knew if I didn’t stop this psychopath, nobody would. Not even the cops could do anything, which gave me another mild panic attack and shortness of breath. I also had slight tremors going down my arms and legs. I remember when I took pills it didn’t make me feel anything, just quietness. I still kind of miss it, today. Its effects on family are too grave for it to be worth it, though. I’ve said that before, replayed those words in my brain over and over to remind myself of what was truly important in life.

Desiring answers, I took a fast shower, then I grabbed my .44 magnum with six rounds in the clip and holstered it under my left arm. Also snatched an ammo box filled with extra bullets as a last resort. Just one well-placed shot from it would be good enough to put down a grizzly. Grabbed my hunting knife, which I only ever used when I went hunting with my friend Luke. After I obtained all my belongings, I went straight to the nearest gas station. I figured if a local motel had a ton of elk emblems everywhere because of some serial killer, the owner of a gas station would know something. Plus, some fuel would do. I took my water bottle with me and went to take a look.

Walking into the station I approached a gent who looked Sikh, an Indian religion where devotees actually worship a book of knowledge, pretty fascinating. They believe because of its everlastingness, it is eternal. He looked like he was somewhere around his forties. I asked for some BBQ sunflower seeds. After I purchased the seeds, I asked the guy if he knew anything about the Night Tracker, he responded with a strong accent, “Ah…sorry to disappoint you sir but I cannot say that I have. I just moved into town, and this is my first Halloween here. To be honest, I’ve heard some stories but that’s it. Frankly, I don’t even believe them.”

“Got any idea where he might be?” I spoke with a serious tone as my desperation outweighed my judgment. Thought he would know of some spot.

“While I may not be a Genie, I can point you in the general direction.” He scratched his beard with a look in his eye that read: “This guy got a death wish or something?” If you’re that curious look into the Blackclaw Woods. That’s where all the hunters say they’ve seen him.”

“Thanks bud, uh…Happy Halloween.” I excitedly replied and gave him a thumbs-up.

“You, too. Good night. Be safe.” The gas station clerk waved goodbye.

Hopping in my Chevy I put in the destination on Waze and the app indicated that the woods were fifteen miles away. It was a drive, but that’s what I got a fresh tank for. I prayed with my eyes closed before starting up the car–thought of Susie once more. I remembered her kindling warmness. Our memories together enabled me to keep walking. If only we could have spent an eternity together. Seconds later, my friends appeared in my head, their faces smiling while we were skiing in the Swiss Alps, or swimming in the Mediterranean side by side. Man, we were indestructible. Except for personal issues, and work. I opened up my sunflower seed bag and began to drive towards the woods. This was going to be creepy, but I felt obligated to do this.

While driving I saw a familiar sight, fog appeared all around me. Thankfully, however, there were little cars on the road so that made the situation much easier to handle. The sight I must say was ominous, but also breathtaking like something out of an Edgar Allan Poe short story, mixed in with something Robert Frost would have written in his poems. I loved the expansive trees’ aesthetics, which while I couldn’t see their true color, I figured they must’ve been very orange, instead of green. My car’s front lights also gave the road a suspenseful look, a vibe of foreboding. If things seemed bad now, imagine how they’d be when encountering the Tracker.

After parking, I opened my car door, took out my flashlight, and before I embarked on my hunt, I needed some extra insurance. I went over to my trunk and grabbed my gas canister of kerosene and an empty transparent squirter that was placed inside a black crate. I filled up the squirter with kerosene until it was full, then I inserted it into the large interior pocket on the right side of my jacket. Thank the Almighty for deep pockets. Now to head into the woods. After I shoot him dead, I will incinerate him to ashes. At this moment I heard almost no sound of animals, except some insects, excluding crickets. It was just an expanse of silence. Plus, bears here are supposed to be rare as I’ve read, so thank the Lord for that. I was just pulverized by the silence I was surrounded by. Not to mention the fog reducing in thickness. Grabbed onto my gun and kept walking north.

As I was traversing the landscape, I could hear the healthy movements of a creek nearby. I was terrified of the notion that the Tracker could be anywhere here. He could come from behind me, to the left, to the right, maybe even above a damn tree.

Looking at the night sky, I marveled at our universe’s design. How it could be so beautiful, yet so harsh, so good, yet so sad. It made me think about God, who I believed in with all my soul. I mean I was raised in his churches with my parents by my side. I missed the simple days when I could just play some basketball there with some friends or sneak some wine in without anybody noticing me. Now life had become so much more complicated, excruciating, and brash. There was so much drama and not nearly enough fun. But this exact point of life made it all seem like that was paradise.

As I moved, I touched the tree bark and got my left hand covered with exposed tree sap. It was as sticky as maple syrup and annoying as a fly. I tried to wipe it off the other side of the tree until I heard silent footsteps to my right. Grasped my gun in its strap, then I saw a dark figure appear from the light fog and umbral trees. He was just as frightening as he was at the motel.

We stared at each other for what seemed like forever as I summoned the courage to move up and shout at him with all the pent-up pain, I suppressed all those years.

“So that freak in the motel was you after all…Got sloppy there for a sec, didn’t you?” I towed with him.

“You were just trying to scare me off. Thought I’d break that easily huh? Well so much for that.”

“Well, what else were you expecting? Don’t you remember me you sadistic cunt! I remember you. What you did all those years ago to my friend. His name was Michael you son-of-a-bitch. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment. How many years I suffered? How many years we all suffered because of what you did? I lost everything because of you! Now…I’m finally going to get my revenge one way or another. I’m gonna send you to Hell!”

Our families thought I was crazy when I told them what happened. They thought I re-imagined the story due to the extent of my trauma. Immediately after his death my mother and father put me in therapy. The child psychologist diagnosed me with PTSD of course. Said that when I witnessed Michael dying in front of me my mind had suffered such a vicious trauma that it twisted the event to make me see what I wanted to see, but that wasn’t it. I never wanted to “tweak” any of the events. Since I knew, nobody was going to believe a word I said, I always kept the truth hidden from others. My relationship with my folks was never the same again.

Of course, I wish I could forget, that’s what the pills were for. What Susie was for. But no amount of love or opiates could relieve the horrible sadness, the insurmountable emptiness, the overwhelming injustice that had occurred that night in Clemons Campground. Both of us lived in Jasper in the Blue Ridge area. We knew the land well enough. It’s not like we went hiking alone in the mountains in the darkness. We snuck out and just wanted to have a good time camping in the woods at night together. We lived nearby and knew how to handle ourselves like our parents taught us. The forest was right next to Clemons so we thought we’d be alright but the two of us never could’ve imagined what would happen. My family’s old home was some hundred miles away from where I am now. Wish I could forget the event so I could move on but, how could I? Some things really are impossible.

He said nothing and took out a seven-inch knife from his bandolier, which glowed in the moonlight. His gloves seemed to be filled with red blood.

“That supposed to scare me?” I uttered with confidence, “I’m through being scared!”

The Night Tracker touched his amulet and started to run at me like a slasher in a horror film, causing me to pull my .44 magnum out and shoot him. He started staggering, and bleeding; proving to me that he was human after all. I laughed to myself and started shooting a total of five more times until my gun clicked repeatedly, it was empty. The Tracker fell to the floor on his knees, he took his arm out trying to throw a knife at me before falling on the cold ground.

Filled with happiness I remained vigilant and took out the ammo box from my left pocket to reload as I kept my gun trained on him. Any movements and I’d drop him again. That’s when he did something that made me petrified, he slowly put his hand on the ground and broke a twig. Afterward, he put down his leg and shot himself back on his feet. I was appalled by this feat. How could he not even utter a single groan? A shriek? A scream? I mean this weapon can kill any mortal…I thought he was merely a man given immortality by some twisted black magic. But now I know he’s much more. A monster, a true spirit as they said he was, a spirit of twisted Satanic evil. I shot him three more times. It was a pleasure firing more ammo into this savage. Despite all my efforts, he remained silent and ran after me. I sprinted into the heart of the woods to get some distance from him.

While running I felt my chest was about to explode but I knew it was only terror, and me sprinting my lungs out. I wanted to remember good memories, so I thought back to Susie’s kitchen. The smells that came from there were spectacular. The anise, pepper, turmeric. So much delicious stuff. How I wish I were there now. But I chose to be a hero and risk my life to fight this killer. In the distance, I could hear the Tracker sprinting towards me like a wolf on two feet. His speed was unmatched. I couldn’t give up. Had to get out the kerosene and my lighter.

If I could light him up, I could dispatch him once and for all. So, I ran left and hid behind a tree waiting for the Tracker to find me, I just prayed he wouldn’t stab me first.

The wait felt like an eternity, but in reality, it was only two minutes before he catapulted me to the ground and attempted to jab my face in with his sharp blade. I could see it glimmer before my very eyes. His pupils were fierce and horrifying. The rest of his face was covered by his bandana and black like the abyss. I immediately thrusted out my knife and stabbed him deep in the abdomen, causing him to gush out more blood. He also managed to stab me in the arm next to my heart, which made me nearly skip a beat. I started bleeding profusely, but I could care less. I stabbed him in the esophagus with my right hand. He catapulted to the ground while his wound was gushing out blood as he uncontrollably choked on his own life essence.

I equipped my squirter and lighter faster than a shooting star and squirted the kerosene all over his body. He held onto his wound with his glove, which was being overtaken by sanguine. Just when he sprung to his feet, I threw my lighter towards him. A massive cloud of holocaust spread around his pathetic body. As he burned, I kept spraying more and more fuel on him until I used up every last drop. I holstered the sprayer back into my pocket. I hoped the damage to the woods wouldn’t be severe since it was fall season. Couldn’t help but feel petrified not simply by that idea, but cause the Tracker wasn’t even yelling while burning like a candle. He was writhing on the ground in torment but didn’t utter a single syllable. I wanted to taunt him, but I couldn’t. His clothing slowly melted away–his mask, immolated to nothing. All that stayed the same was his godforsaken elk amulet. Salvation came to me when I heard sirens arriving at the entrance of the woods. Heard the sound of cops rapidly slamming their doors. I was relieved by their manifestation. I didn’t even care why they showed up.

The Tracker lay on the ground and out of curiosity I flashed my light at him. He was even darker than he was before, as his clothes were charred to cinders. I kept my light on him and approached very carefully. I didn’t want to get stabbed by surprise. I spotted his face, and it looked extremely pale like a vampire. He had black hair on the right side of his head, and fresh burn marks all over his face. The former hair on his left side was now incinerated by the flames. He deserved that and much more. I stood looking in horror as the man who murdered so many was now dead in front of me. I had finally caught the heretic who had slaughtered Michael so many moons ago, how he terrified us to the core of the very fabric of our beings. I still remember seeing that shadowy outline in the Blue Ridge forests for the first time. I was frightened then, but now I finally felt some solace. If Michael were still with me. He’d feel proud too.

I ripped the elk amulet from his neck and took it as a trophy to signify my great accomplishment. Shockingly, it felt extremely cold. It was like it was not even damaged at all by the kindling fire. The elk pendant glowed a bright silver. I gazed at it with glee. While I stared at it, the elk’s eyes glowed a crimson red color which startled me for a second before the hue dissipated. It was very beautiful in a draconian way.

“You see this you monster…it’s mine now. Mine!” I proudly dangled the pendant over his charred corpse while laughing in profound victory.

I put the pendant over me expecting something to happen, but nothing did. I thought I would see visions of other worlds or get a glimpse into the Night Tracker’s psyche or something. Yet nothing happened. How could this be?

I frantically ran to the cops, while holding my wound, and shrieked for them to come see the body of the Night Tracker himself. They were anxious to see it as we all raced to the location of his corpse. However, when we got there, I was greeted with a sight I’ll never forget. He simply…vanished. Leaving nothing behind but badly burnt clothes, and a bloody knife. The cops looked at me, asked what had happened, and saw that I was in shock from something they didn’t fully comprehend.

“You-you don’t understand. He was just here.” I was hysterical. “He was just here all burned up like the Sun itself disintegrated him. Can’t you see his blade and burnt-up clothes on the ground?” I pointed to the leave-covered grass.

“We can see that. But we don’t see a cadaver anywhere.” One of the CPD officers exclaimed.

“I grabbed his elk amulet. Th-the one I’m wearin’ right now.” I yelled at the top of my lungs as I pointed to my neck.

“What elk amulet?”

“The one on my…” I was about to finish my sentence until I looked at my neck and saw that the pendant had simply vanished without a trace.

“What? This can’t be. This doesn’t make any logical sense.” I touched around my neck unable to accept my reality.

“I thought that this was the source of his strength and that if I got it off him, he would become mortal again and then he would finally die for good!” My eyes enlarged to monolithic proportions. I did not even feel anything when the magical pendant disappeared from my flesh.

“Make who mortal again?” The same officer stated.

“The Night Tracker. Everyone’s heard of him here in Croftmire so what kind of question is that?”

“Oh my God. It was him after all then.”

“Yes. I swear it. You have to believe me.”

“We do.” The officers said together.

They changed their tone, to be calmer, said that they’d take care of me, and expected my departure the next day. I nodded at that notion as I was ready to go back home. One of the cops said to the others, “Get Forensics here ASAP.”

One of the officers bandaged my wound up with some gauze and told me that I’d need multiple stitches from an FME. I was hurting all over. They took me to a CPD car to go to the station. I sat there feeling drained like crazy, believing I failed not only myself but the people in this city, who didn’t deserve to die by the hands of this lunatic. The amulet was responsible for his teleportation abilities. To think I just had it in my hands a few moments ago. I put it over my neck and everything. I should have won dammit. To Hell with it, I don’t care anymore, no matter what revenge I wanted. I had attempted to exterminate him and find some closure from the past. Inside myself I knew it was him near that tree, we both did. But this time would’ve certainly closed the case for eternity if I wasn’t dealing with an immortal that bleeds.

“Hey, officer, is it okay if I step out the car real quick before we head to the station? Get some fresh air, please?” I politely asked the middle-aged officer in the driver’s seat of the CPD cop car.

“Ah…I don’t know about that stranger. That wound of yours don’t look too good ya shouldn’t be moving at all.” The officer replied with a thick Georgian accent.

“Please…I actually have to take a leak…honest.”

“Alright fine…But be quick.” The middle-aged officer looked at me like I was a basket case who had just escaped a mental asylum.

“I really appreciate that. Thanks.” I saluted him as I smiled.

I waved to all the cops near me as they commented on the aftermath of the battle and how anything I explained to them could have occurred. The officers’ opinions were divided. Some of them believed me–believed in the legends–the others didn’t or refused to. Have these morons been paying attention lately? Apparently, not. The Tracker’s MO was always consistent. They lived here they should know the legends far better than me. There is division in every fabric of our lives even when there is so much evidence to make anybody a believer. It doesn’t matter what their personal convictions are. They have to believe me. They have to see the truth.

I walked into the woods.

As I strolled deeper into the forest, I felt an intense puncturing sensation in my heart, as I began to feel incredibly distraught…Somehow, I still found the strength to hold back tears. I failed you Michael, I am sorry. How can I live with myself? At least I got a different promise waiting for me back home, to never do this again. To never put my life in danger like this. No matter what, and to stay where I am safe, and to never wind up like the rest of his victims–dead…But that’d be too, damned easy, too apathetic. It’d be the cowardly thing to do. How in God’s name could I forget what happened here? How could I move on?
When I got far away enough from the cops, I looked around the area one last time, hearing the chirps of the birds, the fluttering of their feathers, and the wind brushing through the trees with fierce force. I took out my wallet and two pictures: one of Susie, the other of Michael, and just stared at them for a bit. I admired her gorgeousness, I could smell her hair, like the scent of raspberries. My favorite memory of us together was when we were in the Bahamas swimming in the divine Caribbean Sea, one with all the marine life, one with all of nature. Whatever you are doing now, hon’, I hope you’re happy and wish you all the best. I love you.

I remembered the time Michael and I caught our first fish together at Kratoa River by ourselves–It was a giant seabass. It was a bright sunny day, not a cloud in the sky. We were so excited to see it. I remember saying that it felt slimy and weird. It didn’t bother him at all. Hmmph, our parents always used to hate it when we would sneak out on school days. You were a good dude. You would have grown up to be one heck of a man.

I tucked the pictures in my left hand and looked at the cloudy sky, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes before I took out my magnum and put it against my head.

Over the course of my short stay here, I learned one important lesson, the Night Tracker doesn’t just own this place, he owns all places. This I promise. This I swear.

“I’m sorry guys.” My emotions broke apart like a fragile lock. Tears began to flow down my face as I was overcome with pain. “Can’t wait to see what Heaven is like buddy…See you there…”

Credit: Itai Schewartz