This blog was made for that project.
**"I Don't Think It's Tommy Who Returned From Camping Last Year"**
**Journal Entry**
Date: July 15
Today, Jake and I arrived at the cabin. The forest is as mesmerizing as I remembered from my childhood. The whispers of the trees, the rustling of leaves, it's all so alive, so mysterious.
I can't help but think about the wendigo stories that grandpa used to tell us. The creature of the forest, the spirit of the lonely places. It's fascinating and terrifying at the same time. I've always wondered if there's any truth to it.
We're here to find out. I've brought grandpa's journal along. It's filled with accounts of strange happenings in these woods. I plan to read it tonight, under the light of the lantern, with the forest as our backdrop.
Jake thinks I'm obsessed. Maybe I am. But I can't shake off this feeling that there's something out here, in the wilderness. And I'm determined to uncover the truth.
- Tommy
**Journal Entry**
Date: July 16
Today, I found it. The old book about the wendigo that I was almost certain would be here in the cabin. It was tucked away in a dusty corner of the attic, hidden beneath a pile of forgotten artifacts from a time long past.
The book is ancient, its pages yellowed with age. The cover is worn, the leather cracked and faded. But the moment I held it in my hands, I felt a strange sense of familiarity, as if it was waiting for me all along.
I've heard whispers about this book in hushed conversations. My family has always refused to speak of it, brushing it off as mere folklore. But now that I have it, I can't help but feel that it holds the key to the mysteries I've been seeking.
As I flipped through the pages, I was drawn into a world of ancient legends and eerie tales. The wendigo, the spirit of the lonely places, the creature of the forest. It's all here, documented with a detail that sends chills down my spine.
But there's a pang of guilt that gnaws at me. Jake, my best friend, who came along on this trip, is oblivious to the real reason we're here. He thinks it's just another adventure, a chance to escape the monotony of everyday life. He doesn't know about the wendigo, about the secrets I'm trying to uncover. I feel bad for dragging him into this, for not telling him the truth. But I hope, in time, he'll understand.
Tonight, I'll delve deeper into the book, into the secrets it holds. I can't shake off the feeling that I'm on the brink of a discovery that could change everything. The truth is within my grasp, and I'm more determined than ever to uncover it.
- Tommy
**Journal Entry**
Date: July 17
The cabin is silent, save for the soft, rhythmic snoring coming from the guest room where Jake is fast asleep. The dim light from the table lamp casts long shadows on the pages of the book I've been engrossed in for hours.
The words of my distant relative, written over a hundred years ago, have opened my eyes to a world I never knew existed. The tales of the wendigo, the legends, the warnings - they're all real. And they're all here, in this cabin, in this book.
I can't help but feel a sense of awe and fear as I delve deeper into the mysteries of the wendigo. The reality of what I'm about to do is starting to sink in. I'm not just here for an adventure. I'm here to face a creature of legend, a creature my family has refused to acknowledge for generations.
Jake doesn't know any of this. He thinks we're here for a fun trip, a chance to bond over campfires and fishing. But the truth is far from it. I've brought him into a world of ancient legends and eerie tales, a world he knows nothing about.
I've decided to suggest we go camping by the creek tomorrow night. It's a decision that fills me with dread, but it's a necessary step. I need to know if the legends are true. I need to see a wendigo.
I can hear Jake's peaceful snoring from the guest room, and a pang of guilt washes over me. He's here because of me, oblivious to the danger we might be in. But I can't turn back now. I've come too far, learned too much.
As I close the book and turn off the lamp, I can't help but wonder what tomorrow will bring. Will we come face to face with the wendigo? Only time will tell.
- Tommy
**Journal Entry**
Date: July 18
The morning sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon as Jake and I start preparing for our camping trip. The air is crisp, and there's a sense of anticipation that's hard to ignore. Jake is excited, oblivious to the real reason we're here.
I can't help but feel a pang of guilt as I think about my parents. They believe I'm on a camping trip with friends, not knowing that I've brought Jake to this cabin. They haven't used this place since I was in second grade, and I've always wondered why. Now, I think I'm beginning to understand.
As I pack our gear, my mind keeps drifting back to the book and the chilling tales it contains. There's one entry that stands out, written by a man named Jacob who lost his daughter to the wendigo. His words echo in my mind:
*"The wendigo is cunning, luring its victims with the promise of safety and warmth. It preys on the lost, the weak, the unsuspecting. My dear daughter fell victim to its deceit, and I am left with nothing but grief and a burning desire for revenge."*
These words serve as a stark reminder of what we're up against. I can only hope that we're prepared for what lies ahead.
- Tommy
February 11, 2024
Dear Journal,
Today was a day of unexpected events and unsettling realizations. As I sat in my study, engrossed in my work, I could hear the faint laughter of my dear daughter, Abigail, playing outside. I had assumed that Belle, our maid, was with her, keeping a watchful eye as she always does.
Suddenly, I heard a voice, clear as day, calling out for Abigail. It was a voice I would recognize anywhere - my wife's. But a chill ran down my spine as I remembered that my wife is not here. She is visiting her family, a journey of over two days away. Yet, I could swear it was her voice that I heard.
I dismissed the thought, convincing myself that it must have been Belle. But as I looked out the window, I saw a carriage approaching the cottage. It was the smith, here to shoe the horses. And then, Belle emerged from inside the house to greet him. A sense of dread washed over me. If Belle was inside, then who was watching Abigail?
I rushed out of my study and into the yard, my heart pounding in my chest. The yard, which was filled with Abigail's laughter just moments ago, was now eerily silent. Abigail was nowhere to be seen.
Yours,
Jacob
February 11, 2024 - Continued
Dear Journal,
The house, once filled with the joyous laughter of Abigail, now echoes with a deafening silence. We searched every corner, every room, but to no avail. Belle, overcome with fear and guilt, was in a state of hysteria. In the end, she decided to ride to town to seek help, leaving me alone in this unsettling quiet.
As I sit here in the silence, an old tale from my childhood creeps into my thoughts. A tale of a forest spirit that can mimic the voice of your loved ones, a ravenous creature eternally hungry. The more it eats, the hungrier it becomes. A chill runs down my spine as I think of the voice I heard earlier today. Could it be...?
No, it couldn't be. The winters have not been harsh enough to awaken such a creature. It's just an old wives' tale, a story to scare children. Yet, the unsettling feeling refuses to leave me.
I find myself glancing out the window, hoping to see Abigail running towards the house, her laughter filling the air once again. But all I see is the empty yard, and all I hear is the deafening silence.
Yours,
Jacob
February 11, 2024 - Continued
Dear Journal,
Jake and I finally managed to set up our tent after what felt like an eternity. The smell of grilled fish filled the air as we sat around the bonfire, swapping urban legends. Jake, however, wasn't as fond of these tales as I was. He asked me to stop, right when I was about to share the story of the carnivorous sheep. A shame, really. That story always was my favorite.
As Jake drifted off to sleep, I found my thoughts drifting back to Jacob's journal. The tale of Abigail and the others who had gone missing, their remains found in what Jacob believed to be the Wendigo's nest. A chill ran down my spine as I thought about it. But curiosity, as they say, is a strange thing.
With Jake fast asleep, I decided to venture out, to the place Jacob mentioned in his journal. I don't know what I'll find there, or if I'll find anything at all. But I need to see it for myself. I need to know if Jacob's tales were just that, tales, or if there was some truth to them.
I'll write again when I return. Until then, wish me luck.
Yours,
Tommy
**Title**: An Unsettling Trip to the Woods - Need Your Thoughts
**Posted by**: u/Lemonfangs
Hey Reddit,
I'm Jake, and I'm here to share a story that's been haunting me for a while now. It involves my friend Tommy, a cottage, a camping trip, and a series of events that I'm still trying to make sense of.
Tommy and I have been friends for years. We've always been up for adventures, so when he suggested we head to this old cottage for a weekend, I didn't think much of it. But something was off about Tommy. He was acting cagey, more reserved than usual. I thought maybe he was going through something personal, maybe he was planning to come out to me. But when we got to the cottage, everything seemed normal.
The cottage was quaint, nestled in the woods, far from the hustle and bustle of the city. It was peaceful, and I thought it would be a good break for both of us. Then Tommy suggested we go camping. It was a bit out of the blue, considering we were already at a cottage in the woods, but we had all the equipment, and I thought, why not?
We set up our tent, made a small fire, and spent the evening talking and laughing. It was just like old times. But then, in the middle of the night, I was jolted awake by a scream. It was distant, and in my half-asleep state, I didn't realize it was Tommy. It was only when I looked over to his side of the tent and found it empty that I started to panic.
I could hear noises outside, rustling, like something or someone was moving around. I was terrified, frozen in fear. I wanted to go out, to look for Tommy, but I couldn't bring myself to unzip the tent.
When morning came, I mustered the courage to step outside. Tommy was nowhere to be found. I packed up our stuff and started searching for him. I called out his name, I looked around the woods, but there was no sign of him. As the sun began to set, I had to make the difficult decision to stop searching and head back to the cottage.
Back at the cottage, I found an old journal. It was filled with entries that sent chills down my spine. I brought it home with me, hoping it might provide some clues about what happened to Tommy.
Now, here's where I need your help. Among the things I packed, I found Tommy's diary. I haven't opened it yet, but I'm wondering if I should. Would it be an invasion of his privacy? Or could it provide some insight into what happened that night? What do you guys think?
I'm at a loss here, Reddit. Any advice would be greatly appreciated.
- Jake
**Title**: Update on the Unsettling Trip - Need More Advice
**Posted by**: u/Lemonfangs
Hey Reddit, Jake here again. I appreciate all the responses and advice I've received on my previous post. I wanted to provide an update and answer some of the questions that have come up.
One commenter asked if there were any weird footprints around the tent. Honestly, I didn't look. I was too scared and focused on finding Tommy that I didn't think to check for footprints or signs of what might have been outside our tent that night. In hindsight, I wish I had. It might have given me some clue about what happened.
I've decided to look at Tommy's diary. I know it's a breach of his privacy, but I'm desperate for answers. I found out something that has left me feeling betrayed. Tommy had been planning this trip to search for a cryptid. He didn't tell me anything about it. We've always been honest with each other, so this secret has hit me hard.
I'm still reading through the old journal I found at the cottage. It's written by someone named Jacob, and his handwriting is a challenge to decipher. But I'm taking my time, trying to understand his words. I'll transcribe the relevant pages and share them here soon. Maybe you guys can help me make sense of it.
Tommy's phone goes straight to voicemail. I've tried calling him multiple times, but there's no response. I've been dodging his parents for days now. It's hard. I don't know what to tell them. My parents have been understanding and supportive. They're helping me keep Tommy's parents at bay and are actively participating in the search for Tommy.
I'm at a loss, Reddit. I'm scared, confused, and I miss my friend. I'll keep you updated as I uncover more information. In the meantime, any advice or insights would be greatly appreciated.
- Jake
**Title**: The Return of Tommy: Unanswered Questions and Unsettling Discoveries
**Posted by**: u/Lemonfangs
Hello Reddit, Jake here. I must apologize for my prolonged absence from this thread. Life has a way of spiraling out of control, and the past few weeks have been a whirlwind. But I'm back now, and I bring news.
Two days ago, Tommy returned. Just like that. He was suddenly there, knocking on his parents' door, as if he hadn't been missing for three weeks. As if he hadn't vanished into the woods, leaving us all in a state of fear and confusion.
Tommy looked... different. He had the appearance of someone who had been lost in the wilderness for weeks. His clothes were torn and dirty, his face was gaunt, and his eyes... there was a haunted look in his eyes that I can't quite shake off.
He was hungry. Very hungry. My mom told me that Tommy's mom had said she'd never seen him eat like that before. He wolfed down everything in sight, as if he was making up for weeks of starvation. His mom had to rush out to buy more food because he had practically emptied their pantry.
But what's even more unsettling is that Tommy either can't remember what happened to him in the woods, or he won't talk about it. His mom has reached out to a psychiatrist, hoping they can help him unlock whatever memories he's suppressing. She even asked my mom if we had done drugs out there, wondering if that could explain Tommy's memory lapse. We hadn't. But the question, the implication behind it, sent a chill down my spine.
In my quest for answers, I've been reading Jacob's book. And the more I read, the more a sense of dread settles over me. The words on the pages seem to echo in the silence, each sentence adding to my growing fear. I'll share some transcriptions soon, but I warn you, they're not for the faint of heart.
I'm scared, Reddit. I'm scared of what I'm finding in Jacob's book, scared of what happened to Tommy, and scared of what all this means. I'll keep you updated as I uncover more. In the meantime, any advice or insights would be greatly appreciated.
Stay safe,
Jake
**Journal Entry**
Date: [Insert Date]
The day has been long and wearisome, filled with a relentless search for our beloved Abigail. We scoured every nook and cranny, high and low, leaving no stone unturned. Yet, as the sun set and my wife returned, our efforts bore no fruit. Our daughter was still missing. The sight of my wife's face, a mask of devastation and anger, was a dagger to my heart. I felt a profound sense of helplessness, a father unable to protect his child, a husband unable to console his wife.
Late into the night, our maid approached me, her face etched with worry. She confessed that her parents had implored her to quit her job and return home. When I inquired about the reason, she spoke of a fear that sent a chill down my spine. They were afraid she would be taken by the forest spirit.
I asked if she was referring to the Wendigo, a creature of local folklore known for its insatiable hunger. She shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. This was something else, she said. It shared the Wendigo's hunger, but it was not ravenous or wild. It was old, clever, and cunning. It lured its victims with mimicking voices and sounds, a chilling echo of familiarity in the dark.
She leaned in closer, her voice barely a whisper, as she shared a tale that had been passed down through generations. The creature had a lair, a place where it retreated to after its hunts. Some it would devour, others it would use. This was why it seemed dormant for long periods. It would move to another body, pretend to be human until its true nature took over and the body it possessed withered from the curse. Then it would return to its lair, leaving behind a trail of devastation.
She admitted that she didn't know how long it could stay hidden among us. She had never cared for such terrible tales. But she was certain that Wilma, the wife of the general store manager, knew more. Wilma was a descendant of the original people who had lived here before the town was established. She was a keeper of their history, their stories, their secrets.
As I pen down these words, a sense of dread hangs heavy in the air. But I know what I must do. I will seek out Wilma. Perhaps she holds the key to understanding what has happened to Abigail. Perhaps she can guide us on how to bring our daughter back home.
Until then,
Jacob
**Journal Entry**
Date: [Insert Date]
Today, I found myself in the company of Wilma, a woman of wisdom and tales. She shared with me a chilling story that has left an indelible mark on my mind - the tale of the Soulwood Devourer.
The Soulwood Devourer, according to the elders, was not always the monstrous entity it is known as today. It was once a Wendigo, a man who had committed an act so unthinkable, so abhorrent, that it transformed him into a creature of nightmares. This man was John Digger, a name that now sends shivers down the spine of anyone who hears it. He was a tenant, living with a family who trusted him, only to be betrayed in the most horrific way imaginable. He devoured them, an act of cannibalism that marked the beginning of his descent into darkness.
The specifics of John Digger's transformation are lost to time, but what is known is that something happened that changed him forever. He became the Soulwood Devourer, a creature that made its home where the earth is sour and forgotten. This place, a forsaken land where even the gods are blind, became its nesting ground. Its lair is said to be deep inside a cave, a place so devoid of life that even the branches that dare to grow there are dead.
The Soulwood Devourer is not a mindless beast. It possesses a terrifying intelligence that allows it to choose its victims and lure them to it. The method of its choosing remains a mystery, but the outcome is always the same - death. Some victims are devoured right there in the forest, their screams echoing through the trees. Others are taken to its lair, where the creature transfers its cursed soul to them, continuing its existence in a new body.
Wilma believes that the Soulwood Devourer remembers its human past. This memory, she says, is why it tries to return over and over again. It is a master of deception, able to manipulate everyone into accepting its presence as the most natural thing. It tricks people into thinking it has always been there, and they know it. This ability to hide in plain sight makes it all the more dangerous.
As I write these words, I can't help but feel a sense of dread. The thought of such a creature lurking among us is terrifying. But I am determined to find a way to stop it. I will not let fear stand in my way.
Until tomorrow,
Jacob
Title: An Unsettling Visit to Tommy's House
Posted by: u/lemonfangs
Firstly, I want to thank everyone for the comments on my last post. Your words were comforting in a time of confusion. But now, I'm scared. It all started with a visit to my friend Tommy's house.
My mother insisted that I go over to Tommy's house. She thought Tommy could use a friendly face and some homemade cake. I had found Tommy's diary a few days ago, but I decided against bringing it with me. If asked, I planned to lie and say it was lost.
Tommy and I have been friends since kindergarten, and I've visited his house countless times. But this visit was different. It was as if Tommy's parents were going out of their way to cater to Tommy. His father, Mr. Blackthorn, who was usually at work on a Tuesday, was at home. When I asked him why he was home, he vaguely mentioned his wife feeling sickly. He then disappeared into the basement, and soon after, I heard what sounded like chopping. It was most peculiar.
Mrs. Blackthorn was just as odd. She thanked me for the cake but seemed preoccupied with having to drive to town to buy groceries because "Tommy was a growing boy." The kitchen was a mess, which was unlike Mrs. Blackthorn, who usually kept a tidy house. I couldn't help but wonder how she let it get this bad.
The strangest part of the visit was Tommy himself. He looked different, almost as if he had aged a decade overnight. His eyes had a haunted look, and he barely spoke a word. It was a chilling sight.
I left the house feeling uneasy. The once familiar place now seemed alien and foreboding. The strange behavior of Tommy's parents, the eerie sounds from the basement, the state of the kitchen, and Tommy's drastic change in appearance - all these things have left me feeling scared and confused.
I can't shake off the feeling that something is terribly wrong. I'm not sure what to do next. Should I confront Tommy? Should I talk to my parents about it? Or should I just pretend that everything is normal? I'm lost and could use some advice.
- Lemonfangs
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