Baited

I am not insane.

I know when those particular words are written, it casts instant doubt on whatever follows. All I ask is that you suspend your disbelief, hear me out, then judge for yourself.

I was experiencing a low point in my life, living on the streets and struggling to survive when it happened. I found that little black notebook. The book that started me down the path to where I am today. The cursed book that led to terror.

It was a clear summer's night, hot and humid enough to make my clothes stick to my skin. I was scrounging around in a dumpster, looking for something to eat, when I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the alley. Despite my homeless status, I still had my dignity, so I didn't want anyone to see me digging through the trash. With a flicker of shame, I jumped out and darted behind the dumpster to hide, hoping whoever it was would pass quickly.

However, as they grew even with my hiding place, the footsteps stopped. I heard a rustling and a grunt as if whoever it was was levering something heavy or awkward. After a brief scuffling, there was a heavy thump, a hollow echo, and the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps.

Curiously, I moved out of my hiding spot and peered into the dumpster. There was now a large, oddly distorted bag sitting on top of the refuse. Looking around the ally, I felt myself shiver involuntarily. Something didn't feel right. It was the dead of night, long after most shops and restaurants had closed. It was an all-around odd time for someone to be emptying the trash. It just felt eerie.

Unable to contain my curiosity, I lifted myself into the dumpster and hesitantly opened the bag.

Reeling backward at my discovery, I fought to contain the scream clawing its way up my throat. Inside the bag was a corpse. Panicked as I was, it took me a moment to realize it wasn't fresh either. The skin was grey and dry, pulled tight across the bones underneath. The clothes were old-fashioned and in remarkable condition. I then noticed that it clutched a small black notebook in its desiccated hands.

I knew that I should seek help. Notify the authorities, I thought. A body has just been dumped, and someone is trying to hide it!

But I found myself hesitating. There was something about the book that held my gaze and drew me towards it. The feeling was so enthralling that I couldn't resist. I snatched the book and bolted. It was now someone else's mess to figure out.

I returned to the camp I had made for myself, tucked away under a bridge on the outskirts of town, and began to investigate my find. I pulled the book out of my pocket, opened it, and began flipping through the pages; the firelight causing distorted shadows to flit across its pages.

I wish now that I hadn't opened that book.

Inside the book, I found several pages scrawled with hasty writing, the last of them nothing but an address. The rest of the book had been glued together and hollowed-out. In the hollow, I found an old brown paper envelope. The envelope was extraordinarily thick. On the outside, ten words were written, words I'll never forget: "Only those who know not fear shall reap our riches." Words that I did not then comprehend.

My curiosity peaked. I opened the envelope and gasped in astonishment. Tucked inside was twenty thousand dollars. It was game-changing. This handful of cash could pull me out of the gutter and jump-start my new life.

I placed the money reverently back in its envelope and back into the book with a sigh. Returning my attention to the handful of written pages, I laid back to read while I waited for sleep to find me.

Sleep never came.

The dawn found me hurrying through town with three things on my mind— a hot shower, a change of clothes, and the best way to get to the airport. I had a plane to catch... the first flight to Wyoming I could find.

----------

Less than twenty-four hours later, I found myself at the beginning of an overgrown dirt road that led into a copse of trees. My destination was still unseen on the other side.

I stood there, slightly perplexed by my conversation with the Uber driver who had dropped me off. I was not one given to superstition, so it was hard for me to imagine what could have prevented my driver from dropping me off at my actual destination. Instead, he stopped the car suddenly and stubbornly refused to take me any further. He left me there with terse words, "It is just past those damn cursed trees." He then sped off so fast his tires kicked up rocks and left a burnt smell in the air.

In the fading light of day, the air was still and the silence unnerving. There were no other noises apart from my own breathing: no birds called, no insects buzzed, there was not even the rustling of the breeze in the leaves.

Starring down the road before me, my stomach tightened, and I began to feel the stirrings of unease. I thought back to those hastily written pages I had read, again and again, the promises they had made. The money was real. The address was real. In fact, it was less than a mile away. So the rest of the book's promises had to be real as well... right? I squared my shoulders and started walking down the road into "Those damn cursed trees."

My foreboding grew with every step I took.

I was roughly twenty paces past the treeline when a wrongness hit me like a freight train, and I physically staggered. The air was filled with the intense odor of decay. The sensation of being watched flowed over me, and I instinctively knew there was something in this dark grove with me. My courage almost fled entirely, but I focused on the written promises of power and wealth. Gritting my teeth, I leaned forward and forced myself along the path step by step.

I have to get to the house! I screamed at myself. That damn book said it wouldn't be easy. A test... it's all a test. Only the worthy...

For twelve strides, it felt like I was pushing myself through a thick, almost gelatinous barrier. And with each resistance-laden step, my fear increased. Then as my right foot took the thirteenth step, terror sprung on me like a trap and wrapped around me like a blanket.

That was the fatal step. I had passed my last chance to escape what awaited me.

Suddenly, the pressure and fear I had been fighting against evaporated, popping like a bubble. I fell flat on my face, sending up a cloud of dust, and felt momentarily giddy with relief. I lay there in the dirt a moment more, panting from the exertion. The stench of my own fear and sweat ripe in my nose.

My breathing slowed, and I managed to get ahold of myself. I slowly lifted myself out of the dirt and looked back the way I had come. The fear came rushing back.

Not possible! My mind screamed at me with a touch of despair.

I jumped to my feet and spun around, trying to locate the path. I had taken a little over thirty steps beyond the treeline and should still be able to see the main road. If I had just stumbled off the path in my fear, I should still be able to see it. But my search was in vain. The path was simply gone.

My heart raced, and my anxiety increased as I was unsure what direction to go in. I felt lost. It all looked the same, with dark, ominous trees closing in from all sides. I knew I couldn't be too far from the edge, but in what direction?

I have to get out of here!

There was a need... no an instinctual drive to do so. The fear started making it harder to breathe, my chest felt tight, and my vision was narrowing. Then came the snap of a stick and the sound of a heavy, slow tread approaching.

I took off in a dead run, choosing the opposite direction of those strange footfalls. My fear and those gloomy trees driving me into full flight, my primal instincts raged against my intellect, telling me that there was something here to fear.

I can assure you that running through a densely wooded area at night is not advisable. I couldn't even guess how many times I tripped over something unseen or ran into brambles. Yet, no matter how quickly I moved or how lucky my footing was, I could hear those dreadful steps following me. I felt a malignant presence pursuing me, getting closer with its slow, steady, and unerring stride.

My desperation was evident, my lungs burning with each gasp. My fear, now terror, escalated each time I heard those heavy steps grow nearer. My vision narrowed more, showing me only what was directly before me, blacking out my peripheral. It was then that I felt that rancid breath on the back of my neck. I felt a rending pain shoot down my left arm, and I knew it was over.

Unexpectedly, my shoe struck something. I fell forward, landing roughly on a well-manicured lawn. Looming over that strange yard was an old and ominous house, painted in shades that I could never describe. I glanced behind me and saw the path. The trees looking no different than they had when I first entered the grove. I began to sob in relief, bent in half, my whole body racked with convulsions as I tried to calm down.

It wasn't real!

It couldn't be real!

I tried to push myself up and screamed as my left arm buckled under my weight. Looking down at myself, the terror resurged. I had a ragged gash in the tricep of my left arm that was bleeding freely. My clothes were torn, and I was bleeding from dozens of smaller cuts I had sustained during my flight through the trees. However, it was my injured arm that terrified me. It was proof that what I had experienced was all too real. Something within those trees had been toying with me, hunting me. I looked around in a complete panic, hoping for help from that strange house, and saw that I was being surrounded by a circle of figures wearing dark shadowy robes.

A rough, dusty voice rasped, "It stinks of fear. It is of no use." Taking a step forward, the figure removed its cowl. As it peered down at me, I saw the face of the corpse from the previous night, and I felt the disappointment and disgust emanating from it.

"The bait must be cast again. Get rid of it." Those words rang in my ears.

As several of the figures laid hands on me, I blacked out from sheer terror.

------

The next thing I knew, I woke up here, in the Pingora Sanitarium. And despite the fresh scarring down my left arm, they tell me that I am quite insane... but I disagree.

I am offering you the remainder of my funds, the better part of the full twenty-thousand I found on that fateful night. My request to you is this... follow my path, control your fear and bring me proof of my sanity.

L'esca