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The Fyrn

The Fyrn


Estimated reading time — 54 minutes

The Advertisement
“Lookout wanted. For more information, call 1-800-200-2230” My eyes scanned the sentence thoroughly. The ad intrigued me, I never was one meant for city life. However, for the past four years that’s exactly what my life had been. Just another cog in the machine, wasting away at a desk working for some gutless boss in an entry-level position. As you can imagine, I was quite fed up with the life I was living, if you can really call it living. I’d started looking up some new opportunities and jobs instead of working to stop myself from falling asleep at my computer. I also obviously needed something new, a challenge that could breathe life back into my boring existence. The mundane reality I lived in beat down on me, until very little of my lust for life remained. What little did remain, however, managed to bring me to this interesting advertisement.

“Lookout wanted. For more information, call 1-800-200-2230. Area: [ X ]” The short sentence was accompanied by a picture of a lookout tower in the middle of a dense spruce forest, with the sun settling just over the top of the trees. The sky was a beautiful gradient of red, orange and baby blue and the sight captivated me unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Having already found something promising, I was excited. And I mean excited, like I hadn’t been since my brother Sean and I went down into the basement of an abandoned building when we were kids. Oh how I miss that time, just stupid teenagers doing stupid things.
“What if a serial killer buried his victims down there?” He’d said with that expression he was known for having, expressing both unimaginable excitement and a sense of fear that I can’t quite explain correctly. If we believed any of it? Well I sure didn’t, but I’m sure our stories scared some of the eight graders at our high school. From haunted houses to strange shadowy figures in the night, we never did run out of stories to tell. Well, until Sean went off to the military anyway. After that I was all alone and –well, let’s not open that can of worms just yet. A while after that I applied for some stupid goddamn job I didn’t even want and well, here we are.

The ad promised to bring back that sense of wonder and curiosity, I could feel it calling to me. Without further ado, I saved it in a folder on my personal files and went back to work. Well, I should say I went back to pretending to work. I took a pen out of my drawer and drew a big X on my left hand and it reminded me of the crossroads in life I found myself at. I wouldn’t let this opportunity pass me by. The rest of the day dragged on, seemingly forever. It felt like I was in an endless labyrinth of boring mundaneness. When the clock finally struck five, I was out of there faster than I ever had been. Ah, who am I kidding? I left 15 minutes early, I just couldn’t wait. I practically flew down the stairs, nearly tripping over the last step but I managed to avoid that embarrassment.

I hopped in my car, scratching the handle with my key in my hurried state and I cursed under my breath before dialing the number. The phone rang once, then rang a second time and just when I thought all of my excitement was in vain, someone answered the phone. The voice on the other end of the line was soft and warm, unlike what you would expect from someone working in this business. “[ X ] Lookout, how can I help you?” The voice belonged to a woman, around her mid-twenties if I had to guess, it was as soothing as it was comforting and it made me feel a weird sense of belonging I hadn’t felt before. “Yes, hello? My name is Alex Crawford and I read your ad, I’m interested in the position you’re offering.” I stammered out, I felt embarrassed for the way I sounded. Why was I nervous? Maybe because I felt like this was my only chance at gaining back some of that child-like wonder and at escaping the life I had come to hate.
“I see,” she said, the slight smile on her face was audible even through my cheap and worn phone’s speakers, “I do have to tell you that it is a very demanding job. The isolation could be overbearing and the silence can become deafening. It’s very remote, you will have nothing but the forest to keep you company. Are you okay with that?”
“That’s perfect!” I practically yelled back. I don’t know why I was unable to contain my excitement, maybe the years of city life had taken that out of me and some part of me could now finally express itself again. The rest of the conversation went rather well, I appeared to be qualified for the position and it turned out that the phone operator was also a lookout. She was usually positioned in the watchtower closest to the one I hoped to be stationed in. I was asked for my email address, and we then hung up. That day, I drove home feeling a renewed sense of hope and all my worries seemed to fade away into the deepest recesses of my mind. The evening air was thick and soupy as I drove, the city lights fading behind me like distant memories. My heart raced with the same intensity as the engine, and I yearned deeply for the new life I had dreamt up for myself. When I eventually arrived at the ugly cement carpet of my home, which people usually call the parking lot, I looked up and my apartment greeted me with its familiar, ugly rectangular look.

I stepped inside, the silence reminded me of the solitude I was about to choose. I didn’t bother with the lights, the dying day’s embers illuminated the kitchen enough for me to find the cabinet that harbored my Jack Daniel’s. After I took a gulp straight from the bottle, my index finger traced the X on the back of my hand. It was a sign, and it pointed towards the untamed wilderness. The wilderness beckoned me, even more so than taking another swig of sorrow. Dinner was a hasty affair, and I believe the whiskey held more nutrients than the slop I ate. My thoughts were far from the tasteless food, I was preoccupied with hating my life and wishing I could already go to the watchtower. I worked it all down and grabbed my laptop from my bag. Unzipping the protective case, I hurriedly opened the laptop and created a new document on Microsoft word: Resignation Letter. In my half drunken stupor, I wrote what would become my actual letter of resignation. Sleep came easy that night, probably due to the half empty bottle that had since found its way back to the kitchen cabinet.

The next morning was like any other, I put my laptop back in my bag while I made some mediocre coffee and for a little while, I forgot all about the new job prospect. The mundane city life was all I’d known for years now, so why should today be any different? The realization only hit me on my way to work. The sun crept over the horizon and bathed the new day in a pinkish sort of hue. That’s when I remembered; the watchtower! How could I have forgotten? A smile appeared on my sagging face, but it faded just as quickly when I remembered that even if I got the job, I’d still be in this deadbeat city for at least a month or two.

That day, I didn’t even attempt to hide the fact that I wasn’t working. All day, I couldn’t focus on anything other than daydreams of greener pastures. When I got home, I sat on my worn-out couch, staring at the ceiling while visions of towering trees and expansive horizons filled my mind. The city noise outside my window faded into a distant hum as I imagined the serene silence of the forest. I traced the spot where the X had been on my hand, feeling its significance grow with each passing minute. I got so excited that I didn’t even think about my unfinished business in the kitchen cabinet. Perhaps because of the lack of alcohol in my system, sleep came in fits and starts, my excitement alone seemed too great to allow for any prolonged rest. In spite of my best efforts to remain asleep for more than an hour at a time, I was up before my alarm. The first rays of dawn barely touched the sky and the dim light filtered through my thin curtains, casting a faint glow that gave my apartment a weird, gloomy sort of vibe. I again went through my morning routine mechanically and my mind, this time already far away from the life I was leaving behind, conjured up images of meeting the woman I spoke to on the phone. I’d shake her hand and become her newest coworker. My mind’s eye kept conjuring up images of the life I sorely wished would come sooner. Not even the scalding heat of the water in the shower could ease the restless energy coursing through me. After showering for admittedly too long, I stared at my reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror and for the first time in years, I saw an actual, genuine smile on my own face. I was in essence still the same person, yet everything felt different.
I imagined myself sitting high above the forest, the vast expanse of trees stretching out in every direction. The thought of such solitude and freedom made my current situation feel even more stifling. And then, it came. I was staring at my computer screen when I saw the gmail logo pop up in the upper right corner of my monitor. I carefully read the mail, whose subject simply read “Lookout Tower 14”, and it stated that they had selected me to be stationed there. I was.. I mean, I was absolutely exhilarated, this was my way out. I could finally be happy, free of these cement walls and gray offices. All I’d have to do was stop by to sort out and sign some paperwork and then I’d be a lookout. The last line of the email took me by even more of a surprise, stating that I would be allowed to start as soon as next week.
By lunchtime, I had made up my mind. Not that there was any further thinking involved between me receiving the email and the moment I grabbed my laptop. I was going to quit my job right that second. There was no point in dragging it out any longer. I opened my email and resumed typing my resignation letter, my fingers flying across the keyboard as I corrected and softened my drunk self’s words (saying my boss was a self entitled twat wasn’t the most sensible thing, true as it might’ve been). The words flowed out of me like droplets from a waterfall, the decision giving me a clarity I hadn’t felt in years and though I smoothed the letter over, I didn’t bother with formalities nor niceties. I simply stated that I was leaving to pursue a new opportunity that aligned better with my passion for the outdoors and nothing rang true more so than that. With a deep breath, I hit send. There it was, my resignation letter, sitting in my boss’s inbox like a rotten egg in the fridge just waiting for you to open the door so it could assault your nostrils. The weight that had been pressing down on my shoulders for years lifted partially, but I would only truly be content when I could see the tops of trees as I drank my morning coffee. I glanced around the office, the gray walls and fluorescent lights suddenly feeling like a distant memory. I was finally free.
The afternoon passed in a blur. I went through the motions of my tasks, but my heart wasn’t in them. I packed up my personal belongings (just a few framed photos, some notebooks, and a couple of books I had never gotten around to reading). Each item I placed in the box felt like another step toward my new life, another tie cut with the miserable existence I was leaving behind. As five o’clock approached, I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer. I stood up, grabbed my box, and walked out of the office without a backward glance. My coworkers barely noticed my departure, engrossed in their own end-of-day routines. I felt a tinge of guilt for leaving without saying goodbye, but it was quickly overshadowed by the thrill of what lay ahead and the memory of how they were (actually, the lack thereof). I made my way home, the city lights already beginning to twinkle against the darkening canvas of the sky and it made me ponder what the night sky may look like from the lookout tower. Would the relative lack of light pollution make the milky way more visible? The drive felt surreal, I gazed at the bright glow of the street lamps and the rear bumpers of the cars in front of me. They all swam in my vision and the realization that I was leaving this all behind filled me with a sense of liberation I had never known.
Back at my apartment, I wasted no time. I started packing, throwing clothes and essentials into my old hiking backpack. The process was quick, frantic actually, as if I was afraid something would stop me if I waited too long. That’s why I was already packing everything, even if I had to stay here for another week. I grabbed my hiking boots, a warm jacket, and a copy of a Stephen King book I had been meaning to read for as long as I could remember. I took another look around my apartment, the place that had been my home for the past four years and I couldn’t believe I’d actually lived here. Even with that thought, it felt strange to be leaving it all behind, but I knew it was the right decision. The worn furniture, the peeling wallpaper, the tiny kitchen that always felt too cramped and had a stockpile of whisky, they were all memories of a life I no longer wanted. Feeling sleep starting to take me, I headed to bed and let the sandman work his magic.
The next morning, I slept straight through my alarm and I dreamt sweet nothings of my childhood. My brother teased me as our mom told him to quit it already, to which he reluctantly obliged. We all sat down at the dinner table eating something that my brain didn’t deem important enough to identify, and my brother told my mom and I all about how he had signed up for the army. Mom was not happy, not that any parent would be, but Sean’s mind was all made up. I remember how I’d laughed at how awful he looked with his head shaved and how I’d been distant the day he left. I even started calling him humpty dumpty whenever mom facetimed him and I happened to walk by. Do I need to say how much he hated that? Because he sure did hate it. Anyway, that’s all irrelevant to the dream. Near the end of the dream, Sean would return home after much time had passed and we continued living in our white picket fence home for a while. It made me happy, genuinely happy. I’d find work as a carpenter and Sean would go on a second, then third tour of Afghanistan. He’d receive medals and songs in his name, his likeness would be put proudly on patriotic posters and he’d be a national hero.
Then I woke up and, for the first time in a while, bawled my eyes out. Oh how I wish that could’ve been the reality of the situation, but those were forgotten dreams of yesterdays that would never come to fruition. My brother had returned home from his first tour in Afghanistan, but he hadn’t come back as he had left. The casket sported the stars and stripes on top and he wasn’t remembered in our nation’s history, just another footsoldier in a meaningless war. Maybe if he hadn’t been so close to the mine when it exploded, mom wouldn’t have found herself staring at the bottom of a bottle of red wine every afternoon. Our father didn’t even bother showing up to his funeral, not that I’d seen him in the years leading up to Sean’s death. But come on, he could have at least pretended to care. Anyways, I moved a few years after and well, you know the rest. Contact with mom became sparse and I drowned myself in self pity every other night. And here we are.
In the following days I got the paperwork sorted and I could hardly focus on any one thing at any point. I admit, I tapped into my whisky supply, but not too much, just enough so that my heart rate wasn’t constantly elevated by the excitement. Anyway, when I went to sign the paperwork, I also took an hour or two to walk through the open part of the forest. At times, I could see a watchtower in the distance and I kept wondering if it’d be the one I’d be stationed at. The forest itself was beautiful and full of life. I mean, there were your typical squirrels and groups of bugs (not that I’d ever been scared of bugs, so long as they didn’t crawl onto me), but there were signs of some more unique creatures and critters. I saw millipedes, birds that I’d never seen or heard before and they were singing these beautiful songs that I imagined waking up to. The rustling of leaves and the chirping of the birds created a beautiful orchestra, a song only nature could sing. Beyond the treeline, I could see something strange. It wasn’t a deer or an elk or any animal that I knew of for that matter. All I could see was the faint glow of 2 bright green eyes staring at me. When I looked into those oceans of green, I felt a desire to swim in them. To bask in their glow and never come back. All the noise in the forest died and just when I was about to walk towards the creature, I was able to break free from whatever spell bound me to its gaze. Deciding that was my cue to leave, I turned back and left the woods.
Eventually, I got home and nothing had ever been more of a disappointment. After that, I just counted the few remaining days and on my last day of living in my apartment, I ordered a Big Mac and some fries as I didn’t imagine Mcdonalds delivered deep into a national park. I watched the office and didn’t pay attention to a single word, the daydreams took me by storm and I couldn’t wait to start my new life.
I didn’t sleep for a second that night, as I knew I’d have to leave at around 3 AM anyway (to get settled in and because the natural park and, by extension, the watchtower were quite far away from where I lived. When the clock struck two thirty, I could no longer bear to be in this dingy, musty apartment and so, I left. I grabbed the bag that had been ready for a week, walked towards the door and took one last look at the drooping walls and the empty kitchen cabinet. Then, without a single morsel of hesitation, I turned off the lights and locked the door behind me, closing this chapter of my life and starting over. If only I’d known how short this new chapter would be, and how close it’d come to being the final one.
A New Beginning
The car’s engine hummed softly as I navigated the desolate roads that led away from the city. They went from straight to winding as I got further and further away from civilization. The clock on the dashboard read 3:15 AM, but the excitement (and one too many cups of coffee) coursing through my veins kept me wide awake. The faint glow of the city lights gradually faded into the rearview mirror, replaced by the inky darkness of the countryside that was only broken by the beautiful canvas of the night sky, which was sprinkled with stars.
As the first cracks of dawn began to beam over the horizon, the landscape around me seemed to transform. The dense forest on either side of the dirt road seemed to awaken, the trees casting long shadows that loomed large overhead in the early morning breeze. The sharp yet soupy scent of pine and wet earth filled the air, which itself was a welcome change from the suffocating city smog I had left behind. The GPS dragged me along a series of increasingly narrow roads, each turn taking me deeper into the heart of the wilderness. After what felt like an eternity, the GPS announced my arrival with a cheerful beep. I had arrived at a small building, some sort of small guard’s post, and a barrier prevented me from going further up the road. I parked my Honda Civic and got out, looking through the dirty glass of the guard’s booth, only to see a half empty mug of coffee and an empty box of donuts. When I realized that no one was here, I took a look around, taking in the dense treeline and foliage. I could swear that I saw those same glowing green eyes staring at me again. I was unsettled and both because of that and thinking I had somehow taken a wrong turn, I took out my phone and tried rereading the instructions. That thought was shattered when I read the words “no service” on the top right of my phone’s dim screen.
“Fucking perfect.” I mumbled under my breath, the cold air around me fogged my breath up enough so it looked like I was a damn chainsmoker. Seven year old me would’ve thought it looked cool. I was, however, not seven years old anymore. Nor did I think giving myself lung cancer seemed like all that good of an idea. Looking back towards the treeline, the eyes had vanished into the darkness of the dense forest. Just as I turned around to head back to my car, a high pitched feminine voice called out from behind me: “Alex?” Her voice carried easily over the clearing, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
Taken aback, I stumbled out nervously “What- Yeah, that’s me,” I was now facing her, “you’re the one I talked to on the phone right?” I sounded like a goddamn schoolboy talking to his crush, that’s how startled and nervous I was. “You made it! Welcome to your new home, I’m here to escort you to tower 14. We’ll get you all settled in, you’ll feel right at home. If you like nature that is.” Her amber eyes stared into mine and her uneven smile turned her eyes into slits. She had dark red hair which was swept up in a ponytail, dangling a quarter of the way down her back. Her stature was quite small, only reaching to just above my shoulders, but her frame was anything but wiry. She was quite muscular and could definitely hold her own in a fight, of that much I was sure. She wore a thick winter coat and ripped jeans, showing off some bruises and scrapes on her legs. Her left cheek also showed signs of some scruple, as it had a small gash across it. Her right eyebrow also sported a small scar, blending in with her pale skin. She held a half eaten pink donut in her left hand, which she occasionally took a bite of. “Y- Yeah, I like nature,” I sounded like a fucking kindergartner, I know, “It’s really beautiful here. I thought I got lost before you came to talk to me.” I stumbled out a bit less nervously, but she didn’t seem to mind my obvious stress. “It’s easy to get lost in these woods, that’s why I always carry a map. Don’t wanna get caught somewhere you don’t recognise in the middle of the night. There’s.. Things out in this park, Alex.” Her gaze turned ice cold and a shiver ran up and down my spine. My eyes grew wider and she noticed my unease or rather, my fear.
“Oh I’m just fucking with you, the job’s fine. I mean it, and if there is anything unusual just call in and we’ll help.” This did little to settle my nerves but hey, a little goes a long way I suppose. She laughed and so did I. How did I fall for that? I suppose I’ll chalk it up to stress, even if I am kind of a scaredy cat. The woman introduced herself as Nora, she’d been working here a while and enjoyed the isolation from the outside world. I supposed I would too, after the previous years, and with our introduction finished along with her donut, we hopped into a jeep after I’d put my backpack and boxes in its trunk and she drove me past the barrier that prevented me from going further along the road before. As we drove, I remarked on the beauty and color of the forest. Nora nodded, her gaze sweeping over the forest. “It really is something special. I love it here, and I bet you will too.”
Shortly thereafter, the car came to a stop in front of a diversion off of the main road. “Come on, I’ll show you around and get you settled in.” I opened the door and stepped out. Looking to my left, I felt a rush of emotions overwhelm me. There it was, finally, towering above the surrounding forest, a lonely overlook watching over the vast expanse of greenery. The tower was both imposing and inviting, its wooden frame weathered and worn by years of exposure to the elements yet it still stood strong. The forest was just as it was a few days before, alive with the sounds of nature: the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, the distant call of a deer.
Nora and I climbed the narrow staircase to the top of the tower and we went higher and higher above the forest floor. The wood creaked under our weight as we struggled with bringing the boxes with us, but the structure felt solid, which was very damn necessary for me to feel even the slightest bit safe. When we reached the top, a breathtaking view greeted me. It stretched out in every direction and a sea of green was visible as far as the eye could see. Occasionally, a hill was visible or a small hiking trail but other than that it was just a vast expanse of leaves and dense foliage. The treetops swayed gently in the breeze. “This is incredible,” I whispered, unable to tear my eyes away from the scenic view in front of me. It was so calm, so quiet and it made me feel warm inside, negating the cold of the biting air.
“It is,” Nora agreed, leaning against the railing. “Just a piece of advice, though; try to keep busy, don’t let the loneliness get to you. If you need, Justin and I are available through the radio. I’m up at tower 13, he’s in tower 15.” Pulling away from the railing, we stepped into the small cabin at the top of the tower. She showed me around the place I’d be living for the foreseeable future, it was cozy and functional, with a bed, a kitchenette, and a desk cluttered with maps, weather instruments, a box of matches and a weird looking set of binoculars that were equipped with heat vision. A radio sat on the left corner of the desk, propped up against the wall and its antenna reached for the sky like a lifeline to the outside world. “Everything you need is here,” Nora said, gesturing to the various supplies. “Food, water, a first aid kit. We get resupplied once a month, so you’ll need to keep track of your provisions.” I nodded, taking it all in. I felt a thrill of excitement mixed with a twinge of fear. Whether that fear came from stress or the Friday the 13th movies, I couldn’t tell.
“Thank you,” I said, turning to Nora. “I can’t wait to get started.” She smiled, a look of understanding in her amber eyes. “I know the feeling. You’ll do great here, Alex. Just remember to take it one day at a time and enjoy the peace and quiet.” After that, she walked out and shut the door behind her.
I spent the rest of the day unpacking my belongings and familiarizing myself with the tower and its surroundings. The cabin was simple but comfortable, and I quickly found a place for everything. My hiking boots were placed by the door, the heater by my bed and a little action figure adorned my desk so that it felt a slight bit more relaxing. On my desk, there was a thick journal in which I was meant to report on weather conditions and such. That was my job, along with answering distress calls from lost or worried hikers. I picked up my pair of heat detecting binoculars and looked around the forest. In the distance, I saw another outlook tower. Halfway up the stairs, a female body was giving off heat within the cold. It was clearly visible, the form of a woman in bright orange walking in the dark blue, cold space above the trees. I watched her enter the cabin and sit down at her desk. At that moment, the radio sprang to life and I jumped, dropping my binoculars. “Tower 13, this is Nora. You all settled in yet Alex?” I paused for a moment, my heart still racing at a hundred twenty beats a minute. “Alex?” The radio rang out again, this time I picked up the receiver and spoke into the microphone; “Hi- yeah I settled in just fine.” The words stammered out of my mouth and they were quickly picked up on.
“You sound nervous, I didn’t spook you too hard did I?” Before I could even respond, a man’s voice replied; “Nora, what’d you do to the new guy?” He sounded both tired and annoyed, yet a slight hint of humor was evident in his voice. I just sat there, third wheeling and listening to their conversation. “Nothing, nothing. I swear.” The words were giggled, and a silence ensued. “There’s somethin’ out in them there woods, boy.” Nora said with a thick and awfully parroted Texas accent. She was obviously laughing and I couldn’t help but laugh myself. Justin laughed too, asking if I really fell for that stupid joke. Nora could hardly contain her laughter, saying, “You should’ve seen his face!”.
“You two aren’t gonna let this go, are you?” They confirmed that no, they were not, and we all had a good laugh about it. The rest of the day, I performed the various tasks that I needed to do and before I knew it, the sun had sunk halfway under the treeline, casting a warm glow over the forest. I felt a sense of contentment wash over me. I stepped out and leaned against the railing, a steaming cup of coffee in hand, and watched as the stars slowly emerged one by one. I admit, I had thought about pouring some strong liquor in my coffee but I decided against it. I hoped to leave that life behind in my apartment but against my better judgment I’d brought a bottle of my strongest drink with me. The stuff was basically hand sanitizer and I was convinced it would burn straight through my throat. The night was beautiful, the light pollution here was at a minimum so even the andromeda galaxy was visible.
I admired the view for a while, thinking about life and, well, you know how it goes on these kinds of nights. Thoughts of the vastness of space turned to thoughts of home and, in turn, thoughts about Sean and mom. Sean was older than I, having left for the military when he was 19. I was only 15 at that point and seeing less of my brother hardly budged me. Fewer occasions to be annoyed and pestered, I thought. Of course, the idea that he could die wasn’t at the forefront of my mind. It hadn’t really seemed like a real possibility, not at all actually. Even when his brothers in arms came to our door with drooping faces, it didn’t quite sink in. I cried, of course, but it didn’t register that my brother was no longer of this earth until after the funeral. The grieving process was long and hard, and not helped by our mother in the slightest. I developed a taste for whisky at 16 and moved out when I myself was 19.
When Sean had left, when I saw him last (excluding seeing his cold, dead body), he’d told me that I’d see him again in no time and that I shouldn’t get too comfortable now that he wasn’t around to taunt me. I shrugged and gave him a half-assed hug. There he stood, uniform already on and his big blue eyes staring at me. The disappointment at my indifference was visible in those blue oceans and it was an image that was burned into my retina. My biggest mistake, which I’d never forgive myself for. Maybe if I’d have hugged him tighter, I’d be able to look at myself in the mirror again. But it’s easier thinking up ‘what-ifs’ than facing reality, isn’t it? I looked at my watch and saw it was already 12 AM. All that still roamed underneath were crickets, chirping away at the crescent moon. Well, I suppose pondering my brother’s untimely death would have to wait for now. At last, I went back inside and for the first time in years, I slept deeply and undisturbed.
Stormstruck
The following days went rather smoothly. I measured the wind speed, checked for fires and further acquainted myself with the woods surrounding me. Meanwhile, I developed a friendship with Justin and an even greater bond with Nora. We joked, laughed, shared stupid stories among some pretty boring official chit chat about weather and possible wildfires. Each morning, I woke up with the sunrise, the light filtering through the cabin windows and casting a soft glow around my new wooden home. The days of solitude quickly turned to weeks and before I knew it, I’d been living in tower 14 for 6 months. With that anniversary came an unwelcome surprise: in the days before, Nora had warned us that a storm was brewing and by the time that 180th day rolled around, the storm was visible over the horizon and it would only be a matter of hours before it got to our positions. When the clock hit 6 PM, the storm was just about a mile out from where I was and in no time it was overhead. The wind howled through the trees and the rain lashed against the windows. Soon, I received a call from Nora on the radio. “Alex, you there? This is one hell of a storm, huh?”
I picked up the receiver, glad for the distraction from the raging tempest outside. “Yeah, it’s pretty intense. How are you holding up?”
“I’m good. Just wanted to check in and make sure you’re alright. Storms here can get pretty wild. Just make sure you stay inside, you’ll be alright.” She spoke calmly, she’d obviously been through worse storms more than once. That fact was one I clung onto and it became pivotal to me staying calm.
We spent the next hour chatting about everything from the storm to our favorite books, the conversation was a welcome distraction from the isolation. Justin joined in as well, his deep voice crackling over the radio waves, sharing stories of previous storms and more bizarrely, the legends and stories surrounding the national park. There were tales of a serial killer (or a cult, depending on who told the story) that had left all of their victims in an open mass grave deep within the national park, far from any hiking trail. Justin explained that there was a hint of truth to the tale, as someone had at one point used the woods to dispose of his victims’ bodies, but he was soon found out by one of the lookouts when he tried setting the mass grave alight. This was all back in the sixties though, and nothing of the sort had happened since. Another story that was told in hushed tones over a campfire was that bigfoot-like creatures stalked the woods at night, looking for humans to eat or kill in some vicious way. There was, however, one creature that was unique to our national park.
The ‘Fyrn’ as they called it, was said to be a silver tongued humanoid creature. Its true appearance remained unknown, but it has been blamed for many of the disappearances in our national park. The lore surrounding the creature is quite disturbing, yet as expected it did not go into enough detail to appear believable. All that is thought to be known about it is that it is a sort of hivemind that preys on humans. There’s not much else documented than that, and we had a good laugh at how absurd it was that people actually fell for this sort of thing.
The conversation soon took a turn and in no time at all we were chatting about our favorite shows and movies. As the stories started to leave my mind, my eyes began to wander. I looked at the action figure on my desk and it reminded me of simpler times. The action figure was one of Kratos from the God of War games. My brother used to play it all the time while I watched, we also used to play other games of course; Call of Duty and similar shooters decorated the halls of my mind and I recalled what fun Sean and I had while playing. My interest in video games had started because of Sean and him introducing me to them was something I’d always been grateful for. That was all in the past now, though, and lingering on such things for too long proved detrimental to my mental health.
You just can’t help but wonder sometimes though, right? I mean if Sean hadn’t joined the army where would we be now? Playing video games or annoying each other? Maybe he’d be married and I’d be his best man at his wedding. Maybe we’d both still live at mom’s house, or at least visit occasionally. All of these thoughts and more compiled themselves into a heap of memories and broken futures that weighed down on my mind. The cabin’s walls drooped, the curtains were swept to the side so you could clearly see the storm outside and my bed was honestly a mess. The blankets lay on the mattress, having been thrown off of my body haphazardly that morning. My mind drifted as much as my eyes did, not paying attention to much of anything.
“Alex? You there?” Justin’s deep voice crackled through the staticky radio. It seemed that the storm was interfering with the signal, because this was the first time that I had to strain to hear what was being said. Justin and Nora had been talking this entire time and my thoughts had been too far away to comprehend any of it, in fact I nearly jumped out of my seat at the mention of my name. Startled, I picked up the receiver and stumbled out: “Yeah- still here. There’s a lot of interference though, kind of hard to make out what you’re saying.” And for a minute, there was silence. Well, radio silence, as static still filled the air around me like some kind of electromagnetic field. After a while, I could hear Justin (or Nora, I couldn’t make out who it was) pick up their microphone and speak. What they said was lost on me, as it just sounded like static dubbed over more static. It was at that moment that I started to feel uneasy, surrounded by nothing but the night and static.
You know that feeling, right? Your skin turns to goosebumps and the back of your throat is drier than the sahara desert, a weird coppery taste works its way from your stomach to the tip of your tongue and your eyes dart around, trying to figure out why you feel this way. The scent of angst hung loosely in the air and just when I went to speak into my microphone, the static cut out entirely. It was as if the radio had simply stopped working in its entirety, becoming nothing more than a useless metal box of junk. The rational part of my brain did what any person’s neocortex would; it blamed the storm.
Yet somehow, even though I’d been an avid rational thinker all of my life, something about that rationalization felt wrong. It just wasn’t right, none of it was. The pieces of the puzzle didn’t weld together in any cohesive form and just as this thought started to become suppressed, something caught my attention. Peripheral vision really is a cliché in horror isn’t it? But it’s saved countless lives. You know, like when you see something that’s not quite right in the corner of your eye but whenever you turn to look at it, it stays in the corner of your eye amidst the eye floaters? You may think that that’s scary, and it very well might be. If you’ve ever encountered this before, count yourself lucky. The real horror starts when it doesn’t move. When you turn around and face a thing that should’ve stayed in the corner of your eye. When you’re staring at something no human eyes were ever meant to see.
He stood there. He just fucking stood there. When the radio died, my eyes were drawn to the window next to the front door that granted access to the cabin I was in. Well, they weren’t drawn to the window, but what stood behind it. It was a middle aged man, with a beer belly and a hairline so receded you had to look at him from the back to see it. He wore a white tank top with a disgusting brown stain running from the neck all the way down to his half exposed belly along with navy blue cargo shorts. His eyes shone a bright green and they bore into mine. At first, after the shock had set in, I thought about helping the man. Then, as I walked towards the door, I thought about how strange this whole ordeal was. He hadn’t knocked or even spoken a word. His clothes were peculiar too, who would bring this lazy Sunday outfit deep into a hike in a national park? In the middle of autumn at that. And why would you wear it in the middle of a heavy storm? These questions caused me to pause for a moment. Maybe it was because of the stupid ghost stories or maybe the stress had gotten to me, but I needed to know more before I let this man into my cabin.
“Hello? Why are you out there? Are you okay?” The words had to be audible through glass and through the tempest outside, so I tried to yell them as loudly as possible. He just stood there, unmoving, unwavering. Like a goddamn statue. I stood there, a step away from my desk, for what felt like hours. He just kept staring and so did I.

“Hello? Have you seen my daddy?” A little girl’s voice rang out from the radio as it sprang to life. She didn’t sound a year over 7 and she sounded somewhat calm, yet a pang of worry was still audible in her voice. I picked up my microphone and asked what her father looked like, my eyes never once leaving the man staring at me through the window. As she described the man in front of me, I thought of how absurd I was being and that if I didn’t let the man inside, this girl might well lose her father. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to open that door. I just stood there, thinking of what to do and my mind kept drawing blanks.
“Please let him in, it’s cold. I don’t want to lose my daddy.” She sounded more desperate now, her voice conveying worry even through the crackling static. I couldn’t let this go, my fear could not mean the end of this girl’s father’s life. I wanted to slap myself in the face for how stupid I’d been. My irrationality could’ve cost this man his life, he clearly wasn’t well. And yet, that feeling nagged at me again. It was worse than ever somehow, after hearing her desperation. Something in me screamed to, at all costs, keep him out. Then, my thoughts all came together to form one single sentence that encompassed why:
“How do you know he’s here?” My voice came out as a whimper instead of the assertive tone I’d hoped for. The response was instant, as the static kept crackling all throughout the cabin, the man’s stoïc expression turned into a frown and finally into a look of pure hatred. His green eyes pierced my very soul, as if they were arrows shot from a crossbow. Microphone still in hand, I asked another question, “What do you want? Why are you here?”
The reply came instantly and rang out from the radio ten times louder than I thought it was even capable of. The words infiltrated my ear canal and poured themselves into the crevices of my brain, cementing themselves to stay permanently. “You. We are here for you.” The voice was not one of a little girl, nor of a gravelly overweight man, it was a uniform voice. Booming and commanding, yet soothing and soft at the same time. It was deep but not rough, authoritative but not void of emotion. As the creature spoke these words, the man walked away from the window without breaking eye contact. Those emerald eyes yearned for me from the shadows, until I was sure the man had hit the railing of the observation deck. Then, the eyes were gone and nothing but darkness and the fury of the storm outside remained.
I must’ve stood there for hours, staring out of the window and sneaking the occasional glance to my right, left, or behind me. Wherever my gaze fell, only an empty void swept up in a storm greeted me. There was nothing else for me to do but wait, or sleep, and it’s not like sleep would be coming to me anytime soon. When the first cracks of light pierced the neverending void, a sense of relief filled me to my very core. That didn’t last long, however, as it soon mixed itself with a feeling of unease. The cocktail of emotions I was feeling pointed me towards one thing and one thing only; coffee.
Coffee in hand, I slowly but surely managed to make my way out onto the observation deck. Nothing awaited me there and that was a relief in and of itself. I worked my way to the forest floor, cautious of anyone or anything behind me. I would say that it was unexpected that I didn’t find a body where you would’ve expected one, but that would be a lie. I had read enough horror to know that, even if I had believed that the man had fallen, I would never find a body. He was as lost to the wind as I was lost in my thoughts those next few days.
Distress Call
Nothing was damaged outside of my cabin. No scratch marks, broken antennas or even so much as a fogged up window. What there was, however, was a pair of muddy boot prints standing right outside of my window. Right where the man, if he was a man, had stood. They had almost been washed away, though they were still visible. I snapped a picture of them as evidence. Not for the police or Nora and Justin, but for myself. I knew that I’d find some way to blame it on lack of sleep, fear or whatever else. But, as long as I had this picture I would know that the previous night’s events were in fact real.

I chose not to tell Nora or Justin, as I knew they’d chastise me for leaving a poor soul in need of help at the mercy of the woods and the storm. Not that I blamed them, of course. I would’ve done the same, had I not been chosen to be the one that would be haunted by that thing. Normally I’d be eager to blame myself for leaving him out there as well, but I just couldn’t get those words out of my head.

You
We are here for you

They haunted my brain for many days and they still do. Those aren’t all that plague my thoughts now, however, but I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.

I chose to keep living in the cabin, as I truly did love it there. The isolation still wasn’t a curse and I liked the woods even more now that I could navigate through them a bit better. Sleep didn’t come easy in the days after the incident, if it came at all, but I managed to get through the days with what little rest I got. After a week had passed without further incident, I dared to hope that the whole ordeal was over, yet the words bounced around my brain all the same. Not knowing whether I was ever going to be able to truly rationalize what happened, I spent many hours looking at the photograph of the muddy boot prints outside my window. The radio worked fine again, Justin chalked it not working up to the storm interfering with the frequency. I, however, knew better. I started to believe that it might have been the creature that Justin described to me on that very night; the Fyrn. That was only speculation though, and I knew it. All of these thoughts were interrupted when I heard Nora’s voice over the radio.

“Alex? You there?” Startled, I jumped towards the desk and replied:
“Yeah, I’m here. Something wrong?” As I settled down and started fidgeting with the box of matches on my desk, she told me that a distress call had come through from a hiker and that I was closer to their position than she was. They were a few miles north of me and she didn’t know what the distress call was for, but I’d figure that out soon enough. Grabbing my binoculars, I peered out of the window that held that awful memory. For a second, I thought I saw the man staring at me from the corner of my eye but it turned out only to be a figment of my imagination. When I turned on the heat vision, I could see a small campfire and a few normal woodland creatures moving around. That was more than likely where the call came from, so I made the somewhat long journey there.

It took me a good 2 hours, but I finally arrived at high noon. The sun cast a harsh light over the dense forest. I approached the campsite which was situated in a small clearing. The small fire had long since died out, yet the ashes still sent thin tendrils of smoke into the clear sky. A tent stood to the left of it, its flap open and the contents of a backpack thrown about inside haphazardly. Yet there was no sign of the hiker.
“Hello?” I called out, my voice seeming too loud in the silence that followed. No response came, except for the distant song of birds. I stepped closer, examining the ground for any signs of struggle or tracks. That’s when I saw them. I had looked at the picture on my phone a hundred times and a hundred times over, so the muddy boot prints that lead away from the campsite were as familiar as they were frightening.
A cold chill crept down my spine like a critter, making the hair on my neck stand up, the hair on my arms and legs soon followed suit. Frozen, I stood there. I couldn’t move, terror took me. I looked to my left and saw another set of shoeprints. These were hiking shoes, probably worn by whoever had sent out the distress signal. I was ready to abandon this place, for fear of who– or what– the hiker may have been. There was, however, something to point towards the possibility that the hiker wasn’t like the man who had stood outside of my window that night. There had obviously been a struggle. The barely distinguishable shapes of 2 figures were still visible in the mud. They’d left outlines of their struggle in their absence. The question then became; what happened to the hiker? The answer came in the form of a raspy, terrified female voice behind me: “You came! Thank Christ you came!” The voice said in a greasy, disgusting southern accent.
I spun around quickly, scared that she may be what I’d come to fear. But there, the hiker stood before me, unharmed but visibly shaken, her eyes darting around as if expecting something to emerge from the trees at any moment. “I,” She stuttered, “I saw someone. They… he weren’t right. Feller had glowin’ green eyes, and he moved funny too, hard to describe.”
I listened intently as she described her encounter with the same man who had stood outside my window a week prior. It had approached her campsite without a sound, it moved unnaturally and stiffly, like a deer with chronic wasting disease. “I saw the fucker while I was cookin’ breakfast over the fire there. He kept movin’ all stiff-like. Then he ran at me like a goddamn rabid dog! Threw me to the ground, he did! But I got the bastard, grabbed a burning stick and poked it in his eye! He went mad, kept away from the campfire too. Seems he was scared of it.”
I nodded, trying to keep a calm demeanor despite the fact that my mind raced with the speed of a thousand windstorms. Thoughts whirled around, as did the memories of that fateful night the previous week. Before letting all of that get in the way, I wanted to investigate the tracks the man had frantically left in his effort to escape. Commanding the woman to stay behind, near the fire, I followed the tracks into the woods. I walked through the dense forest for a few minutes before stumbling upon something ungodly.

There, in the denseness of the forest and covered by the looming trees above, stood a shrine. It didn’t appear manmade but rather it looked to have grown organically from the very earth itself. Like a flower of rust, bloomed from its seed in the soil below. The centerpiece was an altar, crafted from gnarled, crimson roots and vines that twisted and intertwined to form a flat surface. Moss and lichen covered its edges, making it look ancient, older than all of mankind. Upon this altar lay a rotting human brain, it leaked black puss from its crevices onto the vines and roots, trickling down them onto the mossy floor below. Surrounding the altar were black obelisk stones, each one taller than a man and covered in a plethora of runes and symbols that glowed a faint green. As I stood in the circle of obelisks, it seemed to connect to me, at least that’s the feeling I got. Like data being extracted from a computer. The air around me was thick and carried the scent of earth and decay, being contained by the ceiling of leaves above. The runes didn’t seem to be carved, nor did the obelisks appear to have been dragged there as much as it seemed that they’d sprouted out of the ground with these runes being their birthright.
As I took the sight in, a voice rang out from behind the altar: “At last. We have been expecting you, Alex.” The voice was that of a little girl, the same little girl I’d heard over the radio just a week ago. The word ‘we’ was said in a much deeper, booming voice that rattled the roots from which the altar was made. My voice was caught in the back of my throat and I felt like it may never dare to come back up to the surface again. A small hand, a child’s hand, grabbed the altar. Then the other hand crept up and did the same. The little girl that sprang up from behind the altar had those same piercing green eyes. Her hair was curly and blonde, her skin pale and dirty. The clothes she wore were stained with dirt, dried up mud and moss. The small blue jeans and tattered white shirt were absolutely caked in the stuff, I mean barely distinguishable. Her voice was as pure and innocent as she’d once been, and with every word she spoke the runes flashed brighter and the forest around us seemed to quiet down. “Did it feel good, Alex?” She asked me with a cute, innocent smile on her face. Her red cheeks were visible even through the dried up dirt that clung to them like leeches. Stammering, my raspy voice was only to ask a simple “What?” as I slowly backed away. I wanted to save her, oh how I did. Her innocence was robbed from her and I wish I could give it back, but I am a selfish man. She knew that. It knew that.
“Leaving my daddy to die. All alone, out in the storm.” Those words were like daggers to my heart. I had been haunted by that night ever since it happened. The choice I made– or, well, the one I didn’t make– haunted me every night, every second of every day, no matter how much it felt like I was right about him. Yet, standing here, it made me even more sure of my decision to keep it out. This was nothing natural and if it was, it wasn’t human. It fell into the uncanny valley, like those scary images in analog horror stories like the Mandela catalog.
“And your mother. How is she? At the bottom of a bottle again? Sobbing at Sean’s grave, or is she in a hole next to him? How would you even know, Alex? You never bothered to look up her name, let alone keep up with her,” The voice had slowly started transforming from that of a sweet, innocent girl, to a thunderous booming one coming from all around me, “And whatever did happen to Sean anyway? Don’t you think he would still be here if you made even the slightest effort to keep him home? Don’t you think he would’ve died a little less sad, a little less alone, if you’d told him you loved him, even once?” I was crying like a baby at this point, but just then movement caught my attention. The movement was stiff and stilted, like a puppet. There, getting ever closer as the girl distracted me, was the man who haunted my dreams night after night. He looked even more disheveled, his face caked in mud and moss. His left eye was missing, the tissue around it charred and black. Yet his remaining eye still glowed that same green.
When I looked at him, the forest erupted into chaos. Birds took flight, animals scurried away, and the ground trembled beneath my feet. I took the hint and, at a speed not even Usain Bolt could top, I hauled ass through the forest and weaved through the trees like a wolf. The man’s movements were too stiff and the forest too dense, he couldn’t (or perhaps didn’t want to) keep up. Within a minute I was back at the campfire, where the hiker was waiting for me. It had only been around 7 minutes, yet the look on her face was one of pure horror. “Dear lord, what’s gotten into you? Saw him too, did ya? Creepy feller ain’t he?” I didn’t even respond to her, merely saying “Let’s get you out of here.” She had already packed her stuff back up and so, we left. As we made our way back to the cabin, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. But no whispers followed us this time, no figures emerged from the shadows.
Back at tower 14, I radioed Nora and told her to come pick up the hiker with the jeep. Not fewer than 30 minutes later, there she was. The hiker got into Nora’s car and she seemed quite relieved. Nora stared at me inquisitively, her amber eyes appearing brown in the shade of the car, as I hadn’t told her exactly why the woman was so shaken up. Not that she’d ever believe me. I watched them leave, both happy I helped the hiker and mortified that the thing I knew for certain now was the Fyrn knew all about my past. I decided I was done here. However much I loved the outdoors, it wasn’t worth killing myself over. Staying here was a death sentence, that much I was sure of. So that evening, I packed my bags. The Kratos figurine, my boots and some other stuff. I left my bottle of strong liquor on the desk, as I wanted to leave my past of drinking behind. As I was packing, I heard some clattering on the roof but decided that whatever it was, it couldn’t harm me. The Fyrn had moved so stiffly that even the prospect of it causing the noise was absurd to me. After everything was packed, I informed Nora and Justin of my departure and they (mostly Justin), of course, asked me why. I gave them some excuse about how I was feeling too alone and expected an “I told you so” from Nora, but it never came. They begrudgingly said their goodbye’s and Justin wanted to keep in touch, which I wanted as well. I slept in that cabin for the last time that night, and it was a light, dreamless sleep that only came over me because of how little I’d slept the past week.
I think now would be a good time to tell you about my brother’s passing. This retelling is a stitchwork of his comrades’ claims and the official report. Sean’s last meal was breakfast, his favorite meal of the day. It was, however, a shitty MRE that probably tasted like rat jerky and thoroughly rotted eggs. He went about his usual routine, nothing was out of the ordinary, until the enemy attacked unexpectedly. The war in Afghanistan was relentless, and this attack was no exception. They raided the base my brother was stationed at with a force they were not prepared for. Sean was in the weaponry at the time, that’s when he heard the shots and the explosions. His comrades came to arm themselves and so did my brother.
Sean stayed there for a bit, guarding the explosives so the enemy wouldn’t get their hands on them if they got that far. When he heard an uncountable number of footsteps, he and another soldier ran out of the weaponry and tossed a grenade into the room so that nothing in it would be salvageable by the enemy. Some of the shrapnel caught Sean in his right calve, causing him to hobble and slightly limp behind his friend. By this point, the enemy was on their floor and they knew it. They probably planned to stay in one room and shoot whoever tried to get in, but they never got that far. The other soldier entered a barack and Sean was about 6 feet behind him, hobbling. The second that the man entered the barack, he was shot through the head and chest, spraying blood all over Sean’s face and uniform. My brother tried to run backwards, but fell when trying to support himself on his right leg. He lay in a corner as the enemy closed in. He may or may not have tried to shoot at them, but he didn’t get to avenge his comrade. They fired 3 rounds into his upper torso. From across the room, they shot him in the chest and his left shoulder. Then, they finished the job by shooting him in the heart at point blank range with a pistol.
Sean did not die a hero, he didn’t die a coward. He just died. For no good reason, for no noble cause. My brother is dead and it served no purpose, gained no progress, he just died and that was the end of it.
A Visit In The Night
Anything could have woken me up. I bet even the sound of a spider moving on the ceiling could’ve had me opening my eyes, that’s how light my sleep was. But it wasn’t just anything that woke me up, no that would be too simple, wouldn’t it?
“Alex? Are you there?” Nora’s calm voice came from the radio. I looked outside and saw only pitchblack. Thinking it couldn’t be urgent, I took my time to get up and to my desk. 3 minutes at least. No need to rush when she was obviously calm, right? I sat down and started fidgeting with the box of matches again. It’d become a sort of a habit for when I sat here.

“Miss me already? I’m not even gone yet.” My voice was deep, way deeper than usual. That’s normal, of course, and it’d seemed cool as a teenager but now it was just plain annoying. “Look outside. Do you see that fire too?” Her demeanor stayed calm, which I assumed meant it was only a small one and that she was still very tired. I said I’d check it out. Putting the matches into my back pocket, I grabbed my binoculars and walked onto the observation deck. The night air was stale and cold, it clung to my unkempt beard and eyelashes and made my lips numb. It wasn’t thick like the air around the shrine, but sharp and it stung my nostrils. Walking around the deck, I looked in every direction but never saw any heat signatures. The woods were a sea of dark blue with no orange in sight. I didn’t feel the slightest bit safe either, which didn’t help. Just before I was going to go back into the cabin and tell Nora she was about as funny as a stand-up routine at a child’s funeral, I saw it. A small smudge of blue, darker than any other, indicating that that patch at the corner of my tower was somehow colder than the freezing air around it. That couldn’t be.

My heart caught in my throat, feeling like it wanted to leap out of my mouth and run with its non-existent legs. My face grew pale and the hair on the back of my neck, arms and legs stood on end. I didn’t dare look without my binoculars and yet I had to. What I saw then will never leave me, it will haunt my nightmares until the end of my days.
It just stood there. It just fucking stood there.
I say it, not she, because even though it had the form, body and complexion of the hiker that I’d gotten to safety mere hours ago, this wasn’t a woman. I looked through my binoculars again and, just as I feared, it was colder than the night air around her. It was the darkest blue imaginable, nearly pitchblack, and it just stood there looking up at me. Watching me with those bright green eyes.

In a panic, I rushed back to the cabin and dropped the binoculars to the floor of the observation deck. I entered the cozy cabin, its familiar warmth greeting me like an old friend. As I slammed the door shut, the ceiling creaked and croaked but I had no time to worry about damaging the cabin.
“Nora! Get the fuck over here with the jeep! It’s an emergency!” I screamed into the microphone. Her reply was almost instant, though I didn’t hear a word she said. Just as soon as she started speaking, the radio died and the only noise in the cabin was the ceiling creaking. But that didn’t make sense. There was no wind, and it shouldn’t still be creaking half a minute after I slammed the door. More than that, the creaking hadn’t been coming from one place or the entire ceiling. The sound had followed me and it stopped right behind me. My blood ran cold and I dared not turn around for I feared what I would see. However, I knew that I had to face it. There was simply no way I could squeeze out of this situation now. My eyes darted around my desk quickly, and I saw my bottle of way too strong liquor standing just where I’d planned to leave it behind for good. For the last time, I picked up a bottle of alcohol and swung myself around so that I was now facing my bed.

There was nothing there, nor was there anything or anyone standing outside of any of my windows. Just when I started to calm down, my breathing slowing along with my heart rate, I finally looked where my eyes had failed to scan before. There, on the ceiling, was a creature unlike anything I’d ever seen before. It remained partially shrouded in shadow, but what I could see were two great green orbs, shining amidst the darkness of the ceiling. Moss and vines clung to its wiry frame, drooping down and covering the things’ grotesque body. Its arms were long and spindly, decaying gray-ish skin with a sickly green hue clung onto its thin bones. The arms ended in what you could call hands, but the fingers were more akin to long, sharp talons that were easily twice as long as normal human fingers. Its legs were equally as skeletal, yet bent backwards somehow. The creature’s knees faced the opposite direction that ours do; towards its rear rather than its front. Its legs, too, ended in sharp talons, with which it clung onto the ceiling. Its body was contorted in such a way that it looked like it would simply pop half the joints in its body out of their sockets. But, of course, that didn’t happen. Its face, if you can call it that, seemed to be in a constant state of decay. The flesh on its head had the same putrid green hue as the rest of its body, it had no mouth with which to speak, nor did it have hair, ears or a nose. What it did have were two shining emerald eyes without pupils. Just two shining eyes, calling to me like a siren’s song.

It slowly allowed itself to fall, contorting its body and holding onto the ceiling with one set of talons belonging to what I assume was its right arm. A loud thump sounded as it landed on both of its feet and let go of the ceiling. The Fyrn towered above me, easily being around 8 feet tall. It hunched over, its gangly face mere inches from mine. Those eyes whispered to me. They sang songs of delight, of ecstasy, vigor, valor and pure bliss. I was promised a new life, a life unlike the monotonous existence I lead. A life full of love, of sweet nothings and new beginnings. Eternal sunrise upon the horizon. It hummed to me like a lover, a friend, a jailer, a slaver, but I did not submit. My knuckles were paler than the moon on that night, a death grip on that bottle. I could have sworn I’d break it, but the bottle was made to withstand even the drunkest sailor. The creature loomed over me, expectantly. I had expected it to look happy or excited when it saw me this petrified, but those shimmering emeralds betrayed no emotion. I slowly started to move away from it and towards the door, but its gaze was hypnotizing and before I knew it I had stopped dead in my tracks once more. The Fyrn was hunched over as if it had a terrible case of scoliosis, and it started to walk towards me.

“Alex,” A deep, soothing voice rang out in my head, “Your existence is unremarkable, your days devoid of purpose. You are homesick for a place you’re not even sure exists. You mourn a death, and one soon to come. We can fix it.” Without realizing it, I had dropped to my knees and was staring up at the eyes of a benevolent God. It promised fulfillment and everything I longed for.
“Imagine a life where you are far from your troubles. A world of belonging, happiness, the smell of flowers permeating the air. A life where you are truly happy, a life where it had never happened,” The Fyrn knew exactly what to say, exactly what I wanted, like a siren luring seamen overboard, it dragged me to the depths of the ocean, “We can make it real.” And with that, it put an elongated talon, which would’ve been an index finger had it been a human, on my forehead and I was sent far, far away.

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My eyes rolled into the back of my head and my essence, my soul, was sent cascading back into my own mind. I flew through the narrow crevices of my mind as it was taken over and I couldn’t do anything about it. Barreling down my own mind, it felt as though I was swept up in a whirlpool, being sucked ever deeper and further beneath the depths. I was part of the hivemind, I saw the blonde child and her father at the shrine. I saw the hiker I thought I’d saved standing outside of tower 14. They were all trapped in their own minds, far away from reality. They’d been overtaken by the Fyrn and it was altering their brain, taking away the brakes and pumping out adrenaline and other hormones at an unhealthy dosage. I relived memories as I stood in the eye of that storm, I saw Sean and my mother. My childhood golden retriever and swiss shepherd, the abandoned building Sean and I had broken into, our school and so much more. I was flung further and further, feeling as though I would pass out from the exertion at any moment. I toppled through a tunnel of my own thoughts and landed on the cold grass below. Only it wasn’t grass.

I looked up, only to find myself in a grain field, like the end of gladiator. I collected myself and stood up, noticing I was wearing a red and black flannel shirt and a pair of bleached jeans. I wore boots that I’d never seen before. In the distance was a small, cozy house made of planks that were colored light blue. The color had faded over time, but that added to the aesthetic. The sun was setting over the horizon, having already been halfway swallowed. It painted the sky a nice red color, which transitioned into light blue the higher you looked, creating a nice gradient that painted the wheat around me. I walked through the wheat field, letting the wheat touch and then depart from my fingertips. I kept running my hand through the wheat as I made my way towards the house. Scarecrows were placed around neatly and evenly spaced, carefully protecting their terrain.

When I neared the steps up to the front door, I saw they had a little doggy door installed. As I looked at the small coffee table standing outside, I could hear two voices inside along with the sounds of paws clattering on a hardwood floor. The voices were muffled, but one was distinctly male and the other female. They were giggling and I could hear the sound of water running. The clattering on the wooden floor got closer and closer still, until a tiny pup burst through the doggy door. The little golden retriever ran towards me with its tongue out and its tail wagging happily in the fresh autumn air. Its eyes glistened blue and a dim red, reflecting the sky. I picked him up, which was a challenge because of how excited the little boy was. When I did manage to pick him up, I cradled him in my arms like you would a baby and I could feel something around his neck, a somewhat soft yet firm fabric. I checked and saw it was a dog collar.
“Aiko?” That name hadn’t left my lips in a very long time. It was the name of my childhood dog, he’d looked exactly like this dog when he was a pup. Sean and I used to go on long walks with him in the forest and pretend we were the last survivors on earth. The backstory differed, sometimes it was because of aliens and other times a zombie apocalypse, but the end result was the same. We were a team of three, fighting off hordes of otherworldly creatures and winning against all odds.

I snapped back to reality and quickly set the pup down. I sprinted up the steps and opened the front door, practically flying in. “Sean? Mom?” I yelled as I ran towards where the sounds of laughing had been coming from. Aiko ran behind me excitedly as he looked up at me with all the love a creature could possess. I’d always thought we didn’t deserve dogs, that they were too good for us, and these moments were evidence of that. Finally, I arrived at the back of the house; the kitchen. What awaited me there was a sight I never expected to see. I’d dreamt of this moment, I’d wished it to be true for years and now it was finally here. Sean and mom stared at me. Both had plates and towels in their hands. They were doing the dishes.
“Never seen you so eager to dry forks and plates.”
That voice, oh how I’d missed that soothingly calm voice. My brother’s smile finally greeted me. I hadn’t seen it in, well I couldn’t tell you. My mother expressed concern, as did Sean, asking me if everything was alright, but I was too shocked to speak. Deep down I think I always knew that I wouldn’t jump into my brother’s arms if I ever saw him again, despite how much I’d want to.

“Sean? I’ve– I mean I–” The words forming in my mind couldn’t– or wouldn’t– come out. I just couldn’t believe I was looking at him again instead of his gravestone. Mom too, her face was tanned instead of the yellow I’d imagined it being by now. She was laughing, actually laughing and smiling. I hadn’t seen her do so since Sean died but I mean, he hadn’t, not in this world. Finally, I broke free from my trance. As tears trickled down my cheeks, I flew into my brother’s arms and cried like a baby while he comforted me, asking what the matter was. I just told him how much I’d missed him, how sorry I was for not telling him I loved him enough and how much he meant to me. Sean told me he knew and that everything was okay, but I couldn’t stop crying. I finally had my brother back. My mom too. Aiko jumped up onto the couch we were now sitting in, me still not having let go of my brother. My golden boy, my sweetest golden, licked the tears and snot off of my face and in that moment I experienced true bliss. I was happy, truly happy, for the first time since I was a kid. I pulled back and held my brother’s face in my hands. “I’ve missed you so much, I love you man.” The words came out just like I looked, a sobbing mess. Sean smiled lightly, which to me meant he took it to heart. This was all I’d ever wanted, and yet something still felt wrong.
“It’s okay, you’re home now. I’m here, mom’s here and so is Aiko. We’re not going anywhere.” The smile didn’t leave his face, not once. He spoke with a certain profoundness that made me believe every word. I was finally reunited with Sean, and yet, something was wrong. I couldn’t shake that feeling, so I did what I never would have before that moment: I spoke up.

“But it isn’t real, Sean. None of this is.” I was still sobbing, the walls were still as beautiful as I’d imagined them and the floor was still as shiny as ever but none of it mattered. My brother was dead, my mother wasn’t happy and Aiko was put down 15 years ago. Sean’s face dropped, showing the most overwhelming sadness I’d ever seen a person express before. It broke my heart– no, it shattered it.
“You’re leaving me again, Alex? I thought you-”

“Yes, I do Sean! Goddamnit, I miss you! I fucking love you! But this isn’t real, you’re not real.” I grabbed my brother’s shoulders tightly as tears streamed from the corners of his eyes down to his dimples. Pleading with him not to make it any harder than it had to be, I saw my mother held the same expression he did. Aiko was whimpering sadly, his eyes drooped and his tail was tucked between his hind legs. I looked Sean in the eyes, his beautiful blue eyes, and held him even tighter as I started to let go of this world. When I started feeling again, I mean really feeling, I was unsure of whether I was making the right decision. I felt the box of matches in my back pocket, my knees on the cabin’s floor, the bottle in my hand and the talon upon my forehead.

“I love you, don’t you ever forget that. I’ll miss you, rest easy now.” And with that, I opened my eyes. My real eyes, not my mind’s eye. In front of me were those shimmering orbs of bright green and whereas before they conveyed no emotion, they now showed pure and utter hatred. I saw, in those eyes, a million ways it wanted to tear me apart, to rip my limbs off one by one and leave me to my demise.

I swung the bottle into its face with all of my might and it made a guttural cry as the hard glass bottle full of strong alcohol thumped off the side of its head. As it was dazed, I took the opportunity to stand up and, while its gaze was still swimming on the ground, I raised the bottle high above my head and sent it careening down at its head. Having put all of the strength of my arms, legs and back into it, the bottle smashed on impact, dousing the Fyrn in alcohol. Its head flew to the ground, shards of glass poked out of the back of its head and the wounds oozed black puss onto the cabin floor. Having downed the creature, I burst through the door and into the frigid night air. The bitter cold bit at my lips and cheeks but I didn’t even feel it, I was functioning on pure adrenaline at this point. As I bolted down the stairs, careful not to fall over the railing, I saw headlights moving towards my tower.
“Thank god, Nora’s here.” I thought, practically jumping down the flights of stairs. The silence in the cold night air was interrupted by clattering on the roof of the cabin above, followed by a high pitched screech. It permeated the air around me and just when I thought I’d have to haul ass even faster, I saw the dark, taloned figure with backwards facing knees leap from the observation deck into the trees, away from where Nora was approaching from. The idea that it was alive and out there in the woods wasn’t the most comforting thought to say the least, but my saving grace was Nora and the fact that the Fyrn was moving away from us. As I reached the forest floor, I saw Nora park just up ahead and for a moment, I was terrorized by visions of that creature jumping from a tree and pinning her to the ground, but that didn’t happen.

She stepped out of the car and I yelled at her to stay seated and just drive as soon as I was in the car. However, she didn’t listen and just stood there waiting for me. When I did finally reach the car, I was out of breath and needed to collect myself.
“What is the big rush? Did you see a ghost or something?” Nora said matter of factly, obviously quite grumpy that she was up in the middle of the night for God knows what.
“No time to explain. Just– just get us the fuck out of here.” Gasping for air, I opened the passenger side door while bent over, hands on my knees trying desperately to get a hold on my breathing. Nora walked over to me, asking plainly if I was okay. I looked up at her and stared into her green eyes.
“We need to–” I started, but the rest of the sentence was lodged and forever lost in the recesses of my dry throat. She looked emotionless, but as soon as she saw my eyes grow wide with recognition, her gaze turned to a cocktail of annoyance and anger. She moved towards me, getting ever closer as the car’s headlights flickered and then, eventually, gave out.

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It was pitch black. I was enveloped in a void, a world of darkness I could not escape. Then I remembered: my back pocket. As the sound of gravel crunching under Nora’s feet got closer, I fidgeted with the box of matches. I struck it against the rough strip of the box. Nothing. I tried again and this time I struck true, the match ignited and I could see the faint glow reflected on the metal of the jeep beside me. It was also reflected in the green eyes of Nora, they were wide open and mere inches away from the flame.
“Get away!” I shouted at her, knowing the Fyrn’s weakness to fire and hoping this would be enough to keep it at bay. A second set of green eyes appeared from the direction of tower 14 and they were stumbling towards me. It was the hiker, in my panic I’d forgotten about them completely. Looking back at Nora, I waved the small flame in her face once more. She tilted her head back slightly and that gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, it may be enough. And then, she laughed. It fucking laughed. It leaned in closer and blew the flame out.

Not a moment passed where I could even process my fear, because I immediately felt her cold hands wrap around my throat with an ungodly force. I could smell the adrenaline on her breath as she flung my body against the jeep, her deathgrip on my throat not faltering for so much as a second. In the panic, I was able to take another match out of the box before it, too, was flung away onto the side of the road. Nora’s green eyes glowed in the darkness and the hiker was nearly upon us as well. I was sure the Fyrn would snap my neck, but it didn’t, not yet at least. Nora– or well, the thing that hijacked her– held me in place as I squirmed, not breaking eye contact even for a fraction of a second. I still held on to the match for dear life, hoping it would somehow save me. Then, a loud thump sounded from behind me.

The Fyrn had landed with its talons on the roof of the jeep and it was standing right behind me. I knew it was the Fyrn because the foul odor of what I can only describe as a mix between pure vodka and rubbing alcohol assaulted my nostrils. It picked me up by the back of my neck as Nora let me go and the voice rang out in my head again:
“Submit, Alex.” It turned me over so that I was now once again face to face with those awful green orbs of light.
“Nora, please, fight it.”
“Do not call us an ‘it’!” The Fyrn screamed in my head and I think Nora and the hiker yelled it too, “Nora was weak. We are not. We are freedom, we are nature.” My thumb finally found the end of the match and I pushed against it with all my might.
“Submit, Alex. There is no hope.” The voice rings loudly in my head, soothing as it is menacing. Panting, I flick my thumb and the match ignites. The Fyrn’s orbs dart towards it, feigning the slightest bit of surprise.
“You can’t snuff out hope, you just need a spark to light the fire.” Moving fast but carefully, so as not to snuff out the flame, I moved the match behind his head before jamming it into his neck. Immediately after, the flames spread down his back and everywhere that the alcohol had splashed. It dropped me and I fell flat on my back and due to the bruises I received from that fall, I couldn’t lay flat on my back for a month.

The Fyrn screamed a high pitched cry in my head and it bounced around for what felt like forever. The screams were joined on the outside, by those of Nora and the hiker. The shrill cries felt like needles and pins being jabbed into my brain over and over again. The foul creature writhed in agony for around half a minute before falling face down onto the gravel road. The moment it did, the hiker and Nora followed suit. They instantly stopped screaming and dropped to the floor like ragdolls. It was as if a switch had been turned off in their brains. I stood up and kneeled by Nora’s side, turning her over so that she was facing the star covered sky. Her amber eyes looked up, not shifting even when I waved my hand in front of her. Her distant eyes reflected the voracious flames that engulfed the Fyrn. I checked for a pulse and found her body to be ice cold to the touch, though not as cold as when her hand was wrapped around my throat. She was thawing and her pulse was slow but steady. The jeep still worked, though the dents and talon marks on the roof were hard to explain to the police. In the end they chalked it up to creatures in the woods and I guess that’s not wrong, just not the whole truth either. I put Nora and the hiker in the back of the jeep, as they were still unresponsive.

When I got back to civilization I was overwhelmed with a feeling of safety and relief I wouldn’t have thought possible had you told me half a year prior. I took the two of them to a hospital, where I was promptly asked a myriad of questions. Not that that’s a bad thing, I did just bring in 2 women who were both in a vegetative state. I gave the cops some explanation about finding them on the road after Nora went to answer a distress call. They had evidence of the distress call and Nora answering it, so it checked out. I asked them to search the premises near the hikers camp, where they found the shrine and a blonde, braindead little girl upon an altar. Her and her father had been missing for a year after going hiking in the national park, so her discovery sparked more than a few questions. They never did find the father, he’s listed as the number one suspect and the media went wild for a story about how the father had offered her to satan. I hated that, because I knew better. I saw her mother by her bedside sobbing a few times when I went to visit Nora, it pained me beyond belief. No parent should have to grieve their child, let alone more than once. I couldn’t stop thinking about the pain she must’ve experienced this past year, the subsequent relief when her daughter was found and the second heartbreak when she found her girl in a vegetative state.

They never did find the body of the Fyrn. I knew they wouldn’t, but it’s dead as a doornail and that’s all that matters to me. When I loaded Nora and the hiker into the jeep, I saw its body disintegrate and the ashes were swept away by the wind, far beyond the horizon. At least I can rest easy knowing it died that day, along with the consciousness of the people it took. Sometimes, as I sit by Nora’s bedside with Justin at the other end of her bed, I wonder if they’re truly gone. Are they braindead, or are they still in their perfect little world? Is that little girl in a dream life of toys, friends and her parents? Is Nora in a world of green, living far away in isolation? I don’t know.

And me? Well, it’s been a few years since then. I still keep in contact with Justin, though I suspect he blames me for what happened to her. I never told him what really happened, he wouldn’t believe me and I wouldn’t blame him. I live on the outskirts of my hometown now. I still visit Sean’s grave every week. My mom too, she’s next to him now. I tried to rekindle our relationship when I left the woods behind, but found out she died three months prior. Life is like that sometimes, you miss an opportunity before you even knew you’d take it. Nora’s family chose to care for her in the state she’s in, Justin and I still visit from time to time. The hiker’s family chose to pull the plug, I can’t blame them. Depending on how you see it, Nora’s fate (and the little girl’s) are worse than death. The little blonde girl, her name is Hailey, will grow up without knowing it. Her body will grow and age, but she will never see it. Her body will have lived years longer than her mind ever did.

I’m still haunted at night by the words it spoke to me. I often wonder if it would’ve been better for me if I’d just stayed with Sean and my mother. It’s not like I can call myself happy now and mean it, but maybe I could’ve been. The blue pill or the red pill? Who’s to say which is better? I guess I can’t change my decision and I’ll have to live with the one I made. The wheatfield still lives in the darkest recesses of my mind, I feel it call to me sometimes, but I can’t go back. Not even if I wanted to. Maybe I’ll try my hand at dating soon, not that I expect much from it, but it’s a break from the monotony life has once again become.
As for the towers? As far as I know they’re still operational and in use. I just hope there’s nothing else lurking within the woods that can fill the vacuum left in the Fyrn’s wake.

Credit: Marcus Sterlin

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