The Faun

Stories of mythical creatures, both haunting and wonderful, have surrounded tight-knit communities and cultures for millennia. Most of the time, these creatures are nothing more than legends, myths birthed from humanity's insatiable curiosity, but sometimes a sighting or story cannot be easily rationalised. The following is the journal of cryptozoologist, George Porowski, recovered from his home following his death in 1988.

Entry #1, 12/4/1986

Cryptozoology is the study of creatures that may not necessarily exist, creatures of legend and mythology like the elusive Mothman or Bigfoot. It is a field that entails little resolution and most cases I investigate are either easily debunked or just flat out unresolvable. Most sightings that are reported to me are often simple misidentifications of native wildlife or what I tend to dismiss as overactive imaginations, but reports of one particular creature have managed to entice my curiosity from the very beginning of my career. Sightings of men bearing the head of a deer have circulated around this area for as long as I can remember. I have largely ignored this case until recently as I simply could not see much value in investigating it. The whole thing is relatively well-known by the locals and it is widely considered to be nothing more than a myth. However, I have now come to believe that there could be more to it. Sightings are always consistent with each other and, although evidence is rare, those that do have such a commodity provide an enticing case. Recently, a birdwatcher photographed the beast in full detail, there were no signs of tampering and the photo is clear enough that you can decisively see that the encounter was no misidentification. In the photo, The Faun stood upright and displayed oddly human characteristics aside from its head and legs which both resembled that of a regular deer. It appears to stand at about seven feet tall. The creature is common in local folk-lore and has been dubbed "the Faun" by those who have encountered it. This creature has had my attention for some time now, though only now have I decided that I must venture out to see the beast for myself. I don't often take the initiative to go out and research these creatures in person, as most of the time the creature in question is almost certainly mythical in nature, my job lies mostly in the history of these beasts, which is why I feel so uncomfortable about searching for the Faun myself. I am to set out tomorrow morning, I will write again when I have arrived at the campgrounds that mark my destination.

Entry #2, 13/4/1986

This morning, I awoke with an uncharacteristic lack of fatigue, spurred on by an emotion set somewhere in between excitement and a heart-consuming fear. I planned to have left before nine but found myself fumbling about with my camera and gear until well after ten. The volume of equipment I had packed almost exceeded the amount I could carry to my car in one trip, I brought enough food to last me a potential few weeks in the woods, a tent, other miscellaneous camping equipment, and my camera and tripod, which would be my key to catching the Faun in motion. After parking my car as close to the campgrounds as I could, I set off down the forested trail with my bag in tow. The trail was shrouded in coniferous evergreen trees that grew denser as I progressed. The narrow trail didn't remain this way for long, as I quickly came into an opening marked with a sign. The sign simply read "Peakbase Campgrounds" in large bold letters. The opening clearly serves the purpose of a sort of central hub for the numerous trails that lead through the forest to stem from. The ground was flat and clear, aside from the occasional twig and some light leaf litter, so I used this as the location to set my tent for the night. After refamiliarizing myself with the old tent and fumbling around with the poles for a while, I strapped the tent down to the pegs and set off down one of the numerous trails to search for firewood. Down one route, the trees weren't as thick as they appeared on the other tracks and a largish lake could be sighted, glistening peacefully in the sun. This location seemed ideal as a fishing spot but without the proper equipment, I will have to forgo such an activity. Despite this location's undeniable calm, I couldn't help my mind from wandering to the thought of the Faun. There's something about the lake's atmosphere that causes my mind to wander. It's a difficult thought to rationalise, but due to the wide view of the lake's perimeter, this may be where I will first encounter signs of the beast...