This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/SawyerJWRBLX on 2024-09-15 21:20:26+00:00.

The following script has been transcribed to a digital document, following the national park service’s discovery ot a series of notes, weighed down my rocks.

I am lost.

All I can hear are the insects. They speak to me. They pester me. They buzz into my ear and remind me how clueless I truly am to find myself off the trail, a curious, large mistake.

I am alone, but I somehow feel accompanied in the empty shadows of this sunset. I have passed many tire tracks, of which the maintenance tractors left behind. Not only have I not seen a trail for 2 days, all I’ve been walking on is untouched forest floor. I have managed to outrun two bears and four coyotes. There is no food. No water. I am in pain. At a crossroads, and there isn’t even anything to end my own life with that doesn’t involve a bear mauling.

I think of my mother, my father. The girlfriend I left behind. Surely they’ve noticed I’m gone and have sent search parties. Oh, curse my curiosity.

Note 2

(Blood droplets of type O+ has been recovered from this note.)

I cut myself on a branch. I had to hop down a pretty steep embankment, I was being followed by a strange humanoid figure… Its eyes glowed. It was hungry for me. How goddamn far have I wandered? I have walked dozens of miles without food or water. I have been seeing rocks with cryptic engravings, that of a language I do not recognize to be earthly. They are chalked with a reddish-yellow substance. They are not trail markers. I feel watched whenever I stand near them.

Note 3

I continue to see the same trees and rocks over and over again. I have been walking in a constant direction consistently. If I’ve been going in a circle, then nixon is still president. Little things change. Maybe a small hole in the ground forms, maybe an oak tree is a birch tree the next time I go by. I am stuck in a wormhole, or I am going insane.

Note 4

On my 53rd pass of the paradox, I see piles of headless, rotting deer. On my 55th pass, I see headless bears hanging from trees. I am being closed in. It’s coming for me.

Note 5

I caught a glimpse of it. It is hairless. It stands on two legs. It covers its pelvis with human hair. Its eyes glow red. I jumped into an old basement to avoid its presence and cried myself to sleep.

Note 6

(This is the last note obtained by the national park service. It, too, has type O+ blood, soaking nearly three quarters of the page. The following text was transcribed from aggressively scribbled letters in blood and what appears to be oak ash.)

IT GOT ME IT GOT MY LEGS MY LEGS ARE GONE MY FEMUR IS MISSING I BLEED I BLEED I BLEED LET ME DIE