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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Lostinternally on 2024-11-25 01:03:31+00:00.

My job in tech sales brought me to Worcester Massachusetts a few weeks ago. My company put me up in a short term rental in the neighboring town of Leicester. I’m based out of Arizona and this is my first time visiting the New England area. I’m newly divorced, and the constant travel is a nice distraction. It gets me out of my head, and takes my mind off the shitshow failed marriage. Plus, I like people, and meeting new people and I’m good at my job, so work has been fairly rewarding and therapeutic. So I’ve just been immersing myself in it.

Massachusetts is beautiful, but cold, and the drastic lack of sun is hard to get used to. It fills me with a sense of somberness. The remaining leaves are falling rapidly, and the trees are becoming skeletons of their former selves. It’s late November and it gets dark around 4pm here, which kind of compounds the dreariness.

I’ve been sober from alcohol for about 8 months now. I haven’t had an urge to drink at all until 2 days ago when I almost talked myself into going to the bar across the street from where I’m staying. The loneliness, the weather, it almost broke me. That’s when I realized I needed to do something in my down time here, or the next urge… I might not have the willpower to deny it.

There was a big yard sale going on yesterday down the street and I saw a metal detector for sale for $40. Seemed perfect… I can sightsee, get a little exercise, maybe find something cool. Who knows? It’s better than sitting in my room with the shades drawn and thinking about whiskey. The homeowner, an older gentleman, saw me eyeing it and I struck up a conversation with him. Nice guy, his wife looked annoyed at how much time we spent talking, as she frantically handled all the potential customers on her own. I worked my sales-y charm and I got the detector for $20, and he even showed me how to use it, and threw in a backpack that had a small telescoping shovel, and miscellaneous metal detector accessories. He drew me crude maps of local spots where he said he had some luck finding things.

I got up this morning a little late about 10:30, ate a big breakfast, put a comfy sweatshirt on and thick zip up hoodie and headed out to where the old man told me to go.

The map led me to a big clearing in the woods, and my mood instantly improved. Oak trees everywhere. The fresh cold air stung my nostrils a little, but it was invigorating. I spent about an hour ambling about in the clearing with the detector, but no real hits on anything. In the distance I saw a yellow metal blockade and what looked like a path behind it. I think the old man had said something about a hiking path but I don’t remember. It wasn’t on the map he drew. I walked over to the path. Should I check it out or just stick with the map? I heard what sounded like water and a vague sound of wind chimes, must be a little brook or something. I thought it would be nice to just zen out by a small stream, so I crossed the yellow blockade and headed down the the path, and that’s when things began to get a tad bit strange. I must have walked a mile down this path and the sound of water decreased, while the wind chime sound increased… But the chimes were ringing at a full octave lower than what they were at the start of the path. Odd.

The sound of water eventually completely subsided, “So much for my water therapy moment.” I continued walking, finally I came to something that looked… Very old. A low stacked stone wall, with two large granite gate posts in the middle, with massive black wrought Iron gates in between them. The metal work was… Definitely unique. Two large circles with wavy lines that converged in the dead center. It looked like long creepy wild spider legs. Like a gate Stephen King would have adorning his garden. Ok, I needed to check my phone and see where the hell I was at. I got 3 bars out here… Not bad. I pulled up google maps “Friends Quaker Cemetery” It was then I noticed all the obvious head stones through the gate. I was so captivated by the odd design of the iron that I hadn’t even noticed them.

There was a sign in front of the stone wall. It read: “This is a private cemetery under the care of the Worcester Friends Meeting (Quakers) We hope that you will treat this cemetery as you would the one where your relatives and friends are buried. This cemetery is closed during the hours of darkness.”

I can’t go metal detecting in a fucking cemetery can I? That’s not cool right? Well at least I can go look around I thought. I opened the gate and walked through… An icy gust of wind blasted me as I set foot inside the cemetery, and now the otherworldly windchimes rang again loud as ever. I needed to find the source of these weird ass chimes. The graveyard was seriously old. Headstones from 1850, 1730, There was one from 1660! Massive oak trees peppered the landscape, with thick arm-like branches hypnotically swaying in the breeze.

I spent another hour just looking at these almost medieval age headstones. Thinking about what life must have been like in this town back in the 1660’s. So many of these people died in their 30’s and 40’s… That must have been considered old age back then. I was pretty far into the cemetery. Far enough that I couldn’t see the border wall or the gates anymore. I found myself in this circular configuration of grave stones, the circle was about 50ft in diameter. The head stones were so old and weathered you couldn’t read the inscriptions anymore. In the middle of the circle stood a giant tree, like something you would see in a children’s fairytale book. The tree looked like an organic 3 pronged pitchfork. It had two thick branches on either side that arched upward into J shapes. Picture the Japanese martial arts weapon “sai” and imagine that as a gigantic tree.

Then I saw them… Dangling menacingly from the hulking left branch. The chimes. There must be 12 of them… 3ft long, each one tapered and came to a dagger point at the bottom. They were made from Industrial looking rusted metal and attached to the massive branch with an equally rusted metal chain. These are wind chimes you would expect to see in silent hill. The sound of them even more unnerving now. OK… I needed to research this cemetery.

I Pulled out my phone again. Two bars now… I googled “friends cemetery” and immediately wished that I hadn’t. Friends Cemetery is also known as “Spider Gates”(appropriate) Every result of the search was “Most haunted cemeteries in America, 8th gateway to hell, Satanic rituals, Hangings, dimensional portal.” Not bullshitting you… Google Spider Gates and see for yourself.

OOOkaaay… Yeah… I’m good with my little metal detecting adventure for today. It’s quarter of three and it’s going to get dark soon and I don’t feel like spending anymore time in an actual urban legend… I literally take one step away from the tree and the metal detector screeches to life… The volume so extreme I thought it would burn out the little onboard speaker. Didn’t I turn this thing off before I walked in here? I guess not… I quickly flick the off switch and the ear piercing noise ceased. It’s hard for me to describe my mindset in this moment because “I” don’t even understand it. But, I HAD to see what was down there. It wasn’t an option. I NEEDED to see… A compulsion.

I get out the little shovel in the backpack and start digging as if I was going to find the cure for cancer down there. I get about 2 feet down before I hear the clank of the shovel hit something metallic. It was an ornate silver box buried vertically. Real solid actual silver. It was about 9 inches wide and 5 inches long. 4 inch depth. Heavy and thick, it felt too heavy for how small it was, felt like 20+ pounds. I managed to wrestle the thing out of the ground. The design of the box had silver flowers and trees all over it, like little sculptures. How did they make this? The top of the box had what I can only describe as something resembling a “comedy/tragedy” type mask. But the expression wasn’t happy or sad it’s mouth was just wide open. There was a latch on the front with no lock on it.

It was stuck shut. I couldn’t open it with my hands. I looked into the back pack. Flathead screw driver, bingo! I wedge the screwdriver into a little gap in the box just barely wide enough to get the tip of the driver in, I took one of the rocks I dug up and use it like hammer on the back of the flathead. I twist the screw driver and it pops open. I couldn’t fully open it all the way, but I didn’t need to. The inside was completely lined with a maroon velvet. Inside it, old parchment papers rolled up like a scroll. It had a black ribbon in the center securing it. I slid the ribbon off and unrolled the papers…

What in the actual fuck am I looking at?.. Everything on it looked like it was written in blood. OLD blood… That dark burgundy color like when you see a month old band-aid in the trash. There were symbols I have never seen in my life. English letters and numbers in it, but the words were not English. Some of it looked mathematical or related to geometry. Blood paintings of strange humanoid nightmare figures encircled by gibberish words. It was like a malevolent version of the Voynich Manuscript.

I got to the last piece of parchment. It was a sanguine illustration of the very tree I was standing in front of. A strange gibberish sentence at the bottom of the page: "Arten…

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