The Haunting

Second Life

Falling, falling, falling...darkness, terror...WAKE UP!!!

I woke with a jolt, my heart pounding as I gasped for air. There's no way I'm alive right now. There's no way!

But I was. Somehow. Was it all just a dream?

I sat up slowly, taking in my surroundings. I seemed to be in some little hut carved into a hillside. The stone floor was cold and smooth, and the sun shone brightly through the entryway. There was a bed in the corner, and a small fire by the entrance. A closed book was lying next to the bed. Outside, it looked like the hut was in some sort forest valley. The trees seemed to stretch upward for miles, before ending in a vibrant explosion of green leaves. It was a bit humid and foggy, but there was also a tiny pond was in front of me, which I assumed was the source of the close air.

I listened for a minute, expecting to hear the sound of singing birds, frogs croaking in the pond, or the wind rustling through the leaves above, but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing to be heard. This is weird..., I thought.

I forced myself to stand, surprised that I hadn't been lying in a puddle of blood from...earlier? It didn't feel like much time had passed, but I felt like I hadn't moved in weeks; every muscle in my body ached. A quick check told me that all the wounds I had sustained were completely healed. Only a couple of scars told me that it had been real; that I hadn't just been dreaming.

But how and when would they have healed? I wondered. I glanced over to the bed. Maybe that book'll have some answers. I walked over and picked it up, turning it over as I tried to find out anything I could about this eerie place on the bare, brown leather cover. Finding nothing, I opened it up. It looked as if many pages had been torn out, and some looked slightly burned, or even shredded. Great, I thought, more things to tell me something's horribly wrong. I finally found an entry further in that was actually legible. But, of course, the date at the top was smudged. I tried to decipher it, but couldn't figure it out. Sighing, I read it to myself, trying to ignore the disturbing silence and pressing humidity.

I met someone today in the forest. He seemed nice. I told him about HIM, and he seemed to understand. We talked about HIM, and I explained the temple. He seemed to understand that, too. Perhaps we can join forces and finally defeat HIM.

Who are these people? Where are they? Why do I have a feeling I know exactly who "HIM" is?All good questions. I flipped through the rest of the pages, trying to see if there were any more clues.

I didn't find anything like that. What I did find sent the whole situation to another level of creepy.

While the journal entry had been written in what looked like black ink, this page was smeared dark red. The way it was all crusty and flaking off the sheet of paper told me it wasn't just a red pen. It was one word; one word that made this strange haven feel a bit more sinister:

HELP

I shuddered. I had a bad feeling that I knew what happened to the owner of the book.

A whistle crested over the hills, piercing the silence of the forest. I listened closely, staring out the exit as I wondered who was out there. The song sounded somewhat familiar, though I had no idea where or when I would've heard it before. It was slightly somber, but also hopeful and calming. I didn't even realize I was swaying to the tune as a figure appeared over the hill and climbed down into the valley.

The man -- I assumed it was a man -- started walking towards the hut, still whistling his song. I knew I should probably hide somewhere, but all I could do was stand there, dumbfounded. The man looked up, blinking in surprise when he finally noticed me standing there. All I could see were his icy eyes glinting under his dark hood.