The Entities

Sacrifice, could you do it? Or would you become it for someone that you love?

“Run! Run! Sarah, run!” Blood gushing from my wound, sweat dripping from my face, fear displayed from my eyes and all senses on high. Open Window camping grounds was famous! There wasn't a teenager alive that would say no to a trip like this. Famous for its legends about its mesmerizing vampires, rowdy werewolves and magical witches. This trip was definitely on our bucket lists.

   On arrival it was definitely a teenage dream. I mean, music blasting, games playing, fire building, food cooking and best of all, no parents to stop our crazy, fun time. We could do whatever we want, whenever we wanted, on one condition. Never wonder past the camp grounds past dawn, ever!

Who cares about rules? We do what we want, when we want and better yet, there was no one to stop us. Sarah and I decided that we were going into the woods no matter who disagreed. Torches were assembles and spears made. There’s nothing in these wood but us and the trees, neither of which we were afraid of, so we thought. Onward we went we went and would soon realize how tragic our decision to leave camp was.

“Two possibilities exist… either we are alone in the universe or not, both are equally frightening.” Arthur C. Clarke. A fork in the path, three lanes to determine our faith. I guess choosing a path according to your best friends’ strongest arm wasn't a good idea.

Darkness started falling, stars started peaking and mother moon at her most majestic. Our touches lit, our path visible. “Whoosh”, out of nowhere, wind as cold as Satan’s’ heart swept across the path. Not only were our torches out, but I never knew that wind in its lightest form could be so painful. I remember thinking how painful it felt to feel wind so cold rush from every angle around us. It felt like needles and knives impaling my skin in slow motion as if it was some twisted way of torture.

“Crack!” We gasped, the atmosphere around us so silent it just amplified the level of fear we felt. Fists clenched, eyes open, mouths sealed and hearts on the verge of exploding. Fog so dense we could feel it. Explanation? We didn't have any, but whatever it was or whoever it was responsible for this wasn't friendly and had no intention of good deeds.

Out of the eerie, dark, soulless forest, seven demonic entities appeared. This was no vampire, werewolf or witch, I would have traded anything for anyone of those creatures. Their bodies blacker than night, eyes redder than hell’s fire and soul, it didn’t appear to have one. Its fingers long, nails sharpened as if they were crafted by the devil himself. These, things, whatever “They” were, they won’t friendly, but was made for mass genocide.

Before they even lifted a finger we were running. Nothing in our paths were cared for. Animals either got out of the way or get run over, but unfortunately I tripped, over what? I had no clue. Blood, blood everywhere. It’s my right arm torn from my impact with the hard, rough. Lifeless ground. Fear so intense I felt no pain. Drenched in sweat dripping from my face. My eyes cry its last tear, my mind thinks its last thought, my heart beats its last beat and my arms take its last embrace.

My last moments with Sarah was over. They found us, it’s strange, they never actually came within distance of touching us, then I realized that this had nothing to do with Sarah, but everything to do with me. When we first encountered “the entities” Sarah started running, but they didn’t budge, but when I started running they started following. Whatever they wanted with me, whatever they were going to do to me, I didn’t want Sarah to witness it. I couldn’t allow her to see me like this.

“Run! Run! Sarah run!” Blood gushing from my wound, sweat dripping from my face, fear displayed in my eyes and all senses put on high. She hesitated, could you blame her? Leaving your best friend is never an easy. Into the forest she ran with tears running down her innocent face.

This is it then, this is what has become of me, just a helpless person dealing with something greater than myself. Is there a God? If so, where is he? Why has he forgotten me? Shut me out in my time of need. Is there something I’ve done to deserve this? Clearly this is my punishment.

Its time, I was ready. Ready to say goodbye, ready to leave behind everyone that I loved. I’ve never given much thought to how I would die, but dying in the place of the people I loved, seems like a good way to go. I was ready to accept death with arms wide open. I closed my eyes and said, “Make it quick, please.” I’m positive that my eyes were closed for at least five minutes before I reopened them. The second I opened them I expected them to attack me, but nothing, they were gone. It was as if they were never there. They left nothing behind, not even footprints from their cold, lifeless feet.

Could it be, they speared my life? They went through all this trouble to get me surrounded just to leave? IT made no sense, but then again what part of tonight did? Battered, bruised, disoriented and traumatized, I made my way back to camp when, “NO! NO! I THOUGHT YOU GAVE ME A SECON CHANCE! NO, PLEASE! DON’T TAKE ME NO! GET AWAY! DON’T TOUCH ME! HELP! HELP! ANYBODY HELP!”

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” Psalms 23:4 

 From that moment on my entire existence rapidly hurdled downhill towards my demise. I screamed until I felt as though there was gravel and sand mashed into my vocal cords, I cried until my eyes were swollen shut and tears would fall now no more and I sure as hell fought with what little energy and adrenaline that was keeping me alive and awake but though I fought with my all that I had left within me it was to no avail. I was abducted on January 7^th 2013. Merely three and a half hours later I was mercilessly slaughtered at the hands of monstrous beings to my knowledge I knew nothing of. Day after day, hour after hour I asked myself the questions, why did they murder me? Am I having a lucid dream? Am I really dead? But the only answer I ever get is the sound of deafening silence that seems to lunge and scream at me from the corners of my most inner private thoughts. I've been told by ‘the one who guards the darkness in the silence’ that the seven delighted in my torment and lavished in moments of my utmost sorrow, as they tore me limb from limb by and vanquished them into a fiery inferno of which they worship and trust in, he said they shredded my remains into the fire as it flared and flourished, growing in size and mass and as it incinerated what was left of the person who belonged to a family, who was loved and cared for by many, my human body. In a moment of great astonishment the fire died and the seven was no more, there were eight.

When I looked around all I saw was immense darkness that’s both cold and lifeless. I saw sixteen blood red eyes fixated on my every movement. At times the silence is broken by the sound of a pulse, faint yet steady. Suddenly thousands of voices come filling and crowding the room and too an extent my mind, in these rare insidious moments I took pleasure anticipating that I wasn't the only one in here, wherever here is, in those moments I hoped that I wasn't crazy. There were brief moments where I heard him speaking to me in an in depth conversation and I scrambled to gather every fragment of information and detail on this place, but whenever he took the chance to answer, the eight pair of eyes slowly rolled over to the left and I heard a grumble that shook the ground below my feet as it stared into the dark and immediately the silence darted through the room, the atmosphere so silent that I heard my eyelashes batting and echoing in the far distance. I endured continuous days of silence so loud I could hear and feel its presence. Those were the days that I screamed and wished that my cries for help would be heard but they never were. He told me that there were others in hear with me, that they can hear me but can only speak through him because they weren't worthy enough to fill my ears with their words so he must purify their words through his speech. They don’t believe me when I say that there is an eight pair amounts them, he said they bicker saying that they cannot be seen by the ones who bow before their command, they can only feel when they’re in the room as their presence fill the atmosphere with smoke so thick that they fall onto their knees gasping for breath and wishing for death but death is no option, eternal suffering was their punishment when a task was not executed with precision and utmost loyalty. My heart stopped as he spoke and I swallowed out of fear and I felt as though I ingested fire.

I dreamt sometimes of my best friend Sarah and of my family, I imagined them in their happiest mood in a life free of worries and heartache and filled with laughter and glee. Yes, there were days where in my heart I hoped and prayed that this was all just a crazy fantasy that I was dreaming of and that at any moment I would have woken up and laughed all about it over a hot cup of tea. When I did wake up the site was just as depressing as when I went to sleep, those eyes still looked deep into mine. I kept hoping that there would be one day where I would finally get the chance to escape from this nightmare and lavish in my freedom. I said to myself that until then this is all I would be frozen in time, never moving forward. That was what it came too, that was my life, but I never gave in and that in itself was my biggest decision.

My name is Rosalie Dior and I was calm, peaceful, free spirited, valiant, brave and kind hearted. I was abducted on the 17^th of January, 1973 and murdered that same day. The things that brought my life to a halting stop were beasts of catastrophic mayhem and destruction. I was only 14. After one year of continuous searching my parents laid their memories of me to rest along with the words that were never spoken to me. My remains were never found, but rest assure that my soul found peace along with the multitude of souls that have been trapped for generations. However, those ‘things’ still roam the earth in search of souls to feed on and to torment they could be anywhere, at any time, looking at anyone, a word of advice, get a religion and keep it!

“Our life is faint tracing on the surface of mystery.”- Annie Dillard

 

 

 

 “Run! Run! Sarah, run!” Blood gushing from my wound, sweat dripping from my face, fear displayed from my eyes and all senses on high.    Mystic falls camping grounds was famous! There wasn’t a teenager alive that would say no to a trip like this. Famous for its legends about its mesmerizing vampires, rowdy werewolves and magical witches. This trip was definitely on our bucket lists.

   On arrival it was definitely a teenage dream. I mean, music blasting, games playing, fire building, food cooking and best of all, no parents to stop our crazy, fun time. We could do whatever we want, whenever we wanted, on one condition. Never wonder past the camp grounds past dawn, ever!

Who cares about rules? We do what we want, when we want and better yet, there was no one to stop us. Sarah and I decided that we were going into the woods no matter who disagreed. Torches were assembles and spears made. There’s nothing in these wood but us and the trees, neither of which we were afraid of, so we thought. Onward we went we went and would soon realize how tragic our decision to leave camp was.

“Two possibilities exist… either we are alone in the universe or not, both are equally frightening.” Arthur C. Clarke. A fork in the path, three lanes to determine our faith. I guess choosing a path according to your best friends’ strongest arm wasn't a good idea.

Darkness started falling, stars started peaking and mother moon at her most majestic. Our touches lit, our path visible. “Whoosh”, out of nowhere, wind as cold as Satan’s’ heart swept across the path. Not only were our torches out, but I never knew that wind in its lightest form could be so painful. I remember thinking how painful it felt to feel wind so cold rush from every angle around us. It felt like needles and knives impaling my skin in slow motion as if it was some twisted way of torture.

“Crack!” We gasped, the atmosphere around us so silent it just amplified the level of fear we felt. Fists clenched, eyes open, mouths sealed and hearts on the verge of exploding. Fog so dense we could feel it. Explanation? We didn’t have any, but whatever it was or whoever it was responsible for this wasn’t friendly and had no intention of good deeds.

Out of the eerie, dark, soulless forest, seven demonic entities appeared. This was no vampire, werewolf or witch, I would have traded anything for anyone of those creatures. Their bodies blacker than night, eyes redder than hell’s fire and soul, it didn’t appear to have one. Its fingers long, nails sharpened as if they were crafted by the devil himself. These, things, whatever “They” were, they won’t friendly, but was made for mass genocide.

Before they even lifted a finger we were running. Nothing in our paths were cared for. Animals either got out of the way or get run over, but unfortunately I tripped, over what? I had no clue. Blood, blood everywhere. It’s my right arm torn from my impact with the hard, rough. Lifeless ground. Fear so intense I felt no pain. Drenched in sweat dripping from my face. My eyes cry its last tear, my mind thinks its last thought, my heart beats its last beat and my arms take its last embrace.

My last moments with Sarah was over. They found us, it’s strange, they never actually came within distance of touching us, then I realized that this had nothing to do with Sarah, but everything to do with me. When we first encountered “the entities” Sarah started running, but they didn’t budge, but when I started running they started following. Whatever they wanted with me, whatever they were going to do to me, I didn’t want Sarah to witness it. I couldn’t allow her to see me like this.

“Run! Run! Sarah run!” Blood gushing from my wound, sweat dripping from my face, fear displayed in my eyes and all senses put on high. She hesitated, could you blame her? Leaving your best friend is never an easy. Into the forest she ran with tears running down her innocent face.

This is it then, this is what has become of me, just a helpless person dealing with something greater than myself. Is there a God? If so, where is he? Why has he forgotten me? Shut me out in my time of need. Is there something I’ve done to deserve this? Clearly this is my punishment.

Its time, I was ready. Ready to say goodbye, ready to leave behind everyone that I loved. I’ve never given much thought to how I would die, but dying in the place of the people I loved, seems like a good way to go. I was ready to accept death with arms wide open. I closed my eyes and said, “Make it quick, please.” I’m positive that my eyes were closed for at least five minutes before I reopened them. The second I opened them I expected them to attack me, but nothing, they were gone. It was as if they were never there. They left nothing behind, not even footprints from their cold, lifeless feet.

Could it be, they speared my life? They went through all this trouble to get me surrounded just to leave? IT made no sense, but then again what part of tonight did? Battered, bruised, disoriented and traumatized, I made my way back to camp when, “NO! NO! I THOUGHT YOU GAVE ME A SECOND CHANCE! NO, PLEASE! DON’T TAKE ME NO! GET AWAY! DON’T TOUCH ME! HELP! HELP! ANYBODY HELP!”

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” Psalms 23:4 

 From that moment on my entire existence rapidly hurdled downhill towards my demise. I screamed until I felt as though there was gravel and sand mashed into my vocal cords, I cried until my eyes were swollen shut and tears would fall now no more and I sure as hell fought with what little energy and adrenaline that was keeping me alive and awake but though I fought with my all that I had left within me it was to no avail. I was abducted on January 7^th 2013. Merely three and a half hours later I was mercilessly slaughtered at the hands of monstrous beings to my knowledge I knew nothing of. Day after day, hour after hour I asked myself the questions, why did they murder me? Am I having a lucid dream? Am I really dead? But the only answer I ever get is the sound of deafening silence that seems to lunge and scream at me from the corners of my most inner private thoughts. I've been told by ‘the one who guards the darkness in the silence’ that the seven delighted in my torment and lavished in moments of my utmost sorrow, as they tore me limb from limb by and vanquished them into a fiery inferno of which they worship and trust in, he said they shredded my remains into the fire as it flared and flourished, growing in size and mass and as it incinerated what was left of the person who belonged to a family, who was loved and cared for by many, my human body. In a moment of great astonishment the fire died and the seven was no more, there were eight.

When I looked around all I saw was immense darkness that’s both cold and lifeless. I saw sixteen blood red eyes fixated on my every movement. At times the silence is broken by the sound of a pulse, faint yet steady. Suddenly thousands of voices come filling and crowding the room and too an extent my mind, in these rare insidious moments I took pleasure anticipating that I wasn't the only one in here, wherever here is, in those moments I hoped that I wasn't crazy. There were brief moments where I heard him speaking to me in an in depth conversation and I scrambled to gather every fragment of information and detail on this place, but whenever he took the chance to answer, the eight pair of eyes slowly rolled over to the left and I heard a grumble that shook the ground below my feet as it stared into the dark and immediately the silence darted through the room, the atmosphere so silent that I heard my eyelashes batting and echoing in the far distance. I endured continuous days of silence so loud I could hear and feel its presence. Those were the days that I screamed and wished that my cries for help would be heard but they never were. He told me that there were others in hear with me, that they can hear me but can only speak through him because they weren't worthy enough to fill my ears with their words so he must purify their words through his speech. They don’t believe me when I say that there is an eight pair amounts them, he said they bicker saying that they cannot be seen by the ones who bow before their command, they can only feel when they’re in the room as their presence fill the atmosphere with smoke so thick that they fall onto their knees gasping for breath and wishing for death but death is no option, eternal suffering was their punishment when a task was not executed with precision and utmost loyalty. My heart stopped as he spoke and I swallowed out of fear and I felt as though I ingested fire.

I dreamt sometimes of my best friend Sarah and of my family, I imagined them in their happiest mood in a life free of worries and heartache and filled with laughter and glee. Yes, there were days where in my heart I hoped and prayed that this was all just a crazy fantasy that I was dreaming of and that at any moment I would have woken up and laughed all about it over a hot cup of tea. When I did wake up the site was just as depressing as when I went to sleep, those eyes still looked deep into mine. I kept hoping that there would be one day where I would finally get the chance to escape from this nightmare and lavish in my freedom. I said to myself that until then this is all I would be frozen in time, never moving forward. That was what it came too, that was my life, but I never gave in and that in itself was my biggest decision.

My name is Rosalie Dior and I was calm, peaceful, free spirited, valiant, brave and kind hearted. I was abducted on the 17^th of January, 1973 and murdered that same day. The things that brought my life to a halting stop were beasts of catastrophic mayhem and destruction. I was only 14. After one year of continuous searching my parents laid their memories of me to rest along with the words that were never spoken to me. My remains were never found, but rest assure that my soul found peace along with the multitude of souls that have been trapped for generations. However, those ‘things’ still roam the earth in search of souls to feed on and to torment they could be anywhere, at any time, looking at anyone, a word of advice, get a religion and keep it! Pray to a God doesn't matter which one as long as they he or she saves you!

“Our life is faint tracing on the surface of mystery.”- Annie Dillard

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

This was my first attempt of actually writing a story- Go easy on the review :) I hope you enjoyed.