"Hmm…?" Klaus thought as the dust settled on a bushy tree within a large forest.
Suddenly, a swarm of winged creatures emerged, their flashing wings stirring the air as they devoured the dust. However, the tree shuddered violently, flinging them into the shadows before going still.
Blow!
A sudden gust of wind slapped Klaus across the face, bending the flowers and clearing a path to the forest.
"What the—at least let me process!" he muttered, crossing his legs in mock meditation.
"Bloodstains, rats, vague instructions...is this supposed to be the first stage?" He glanced uneasily at the path ahead.
"What am I supposed to do?"
He looked back and sighed, realizing the forest was his only way forward.
"Whatever," he thought.
"Weird–no birds," Klaus muttered as he approached the forest. He felt an unsettling presence, as though unseen eyes were fixed on him, their venomous gaze paralyzing him with unease.
Ruffle!
His eyes darted to a bush, its leaves trembling violently. "The hell?" he whispered, stepping closer.
With a roar, a black squirrel lunged from the bush. Klaus yelped but caught it mid-air, his hand closing around its throat. It squealed and squirmed, but he didn't let go.
"This one's not disappearing," he muttered as the creature went limp, its mouth frozen in a final gasp.
Klaus tossed the squirrel back into the bush with a grunt as he walked forward.
Suddenly, he heard buzzing behind him and turned around–more dust had appeared, and the tiny, winged creatures had returned, guzzling it up.
"So quick–and creepy looking…" Klaus whispered as the creatures finished the dust and flew away, leaving him wondering if he died, would that happen to him too?
"Let's not think about that," he thought, shaking his head.
As he walked, he noticed that the trees had an intense number of holes and let off a stench–no scratch that, the whole forest reeked. It didn't help that wind constantly flowed within the forest, spreading the scent like a virus but also, at times, revealing a pleasant smell. Taking note of this, Klaus cautiously smelled a leaf from a tree and–
"Smells good. What is that nasty scent then?" He thought as he turned away from the leaf and smelled the air, jerking back in reaction.
"Ew," he muttered, continuing through the forest.
"Something's definitely watching me...better hurry up." Klaus thought as he warily walked.
After a few minutes, he noticed a river with a stone bridge. The river's serene water slightly eased Klaus's nerves, but as he crouched down to get a drink, a fish with serrated teeth struck out and clutched his nose, violently shaking. Not very relaxing.
"Dammit!!" Klaus yelled as he ripped the fish off his nose and threw it behind him. Crouching down again to get a drink, he felt pain on his ass and on his cheek.
"Two of you damn bastards?! Goddamnit!!"
He gripped the fish on his cheek, yanking it off, and slapped the one on his ass with it; then, he grabbed the fish on the floor and clenched the two until they burst into red dust. As he panted, he detected the foul scent coming from the dust.
Buzz!
"Ah, shit."
Klaus sprinted back and bent down, watching the winged creatures.
He touched his nose and winced in pain, thinking of what to do with it.
"Ow! Maybe a leaf to cover it…" He snatched a leaf from a nearby tree and, with a dab of tree wax, stuck it to his nose. As he did, the creatures flew away again, allowing Klaus to press forward.
"The hell are those fishes doing here?!" Klaus thought, frowning.
As he approached the river, he thought, "Nuh, uh. I'll go to the bridge." He began to cross it.
"There-there's no way…how?" Klaus murmured as he saw a familiar cabin with a sign reading, 'Come in! No harm, no foul' at the other end. Its windows were boarded shut.
The bridge gave way with a crash just as he reached the other side, and he spotted a giant, brown beast looming where he had been moments before. It licked its lips, drool falling as it looked at him.
Klaus measured the distance between himself and the beast, his stomach dropping as he realized it could easily make the jump.
"Nope. Hell no," he said, turning on his heel and hurrying to the cabin. He felt the beasts' gaze linger as he met the cabin and opened the door. Shutting it, he murmured:
"Just how I remember it...what the hell is this?"
Before Klaus, there was a tiny round table with a pair of chairs and two doors on opposite walls. On the table lay an open book with stained, patched pages. Klaus approached the table and, without picking it up, flipped through the book's pages.
"This...is Jile's house." he thought.
The book featured sloppy sketches of people and occasional text with dates scribbled in red and placed randomly on the pages, making the book seem unpolished and hurried as if the person wrote them in a rush.
Klaus stopped and flipped back to the first page. With a drawing of the cabin and the date, 'April 1, 1982', it read:
Me and my mom in house! Look at it! My mom says they won't find us here. I'm so happy.
Klaus turned the page: no text, just a drawing of the person and their mom holding hands. He turned it again: a drawing of a dog. Again, but this time, there was text accompanied by a sketch of a person wounded reading:
My mom always comes back with so many booboos. It makes me sad.
Klaus scanned the page for the date: 'April 22, 1982.' He flipped through the pages and shrugged. He closed the book and put it down but remembered seeing a familiar black sketch. He rapidly picked it up and found the page: 'May 24, 1982.' It read:
My mom said that I could not look outside, but I really wanted to. So I did. I saw this.
Above the text was a drawing of the winged creature Klaus had seen.
Although it was haphazard, the picture gave a closer look: a hideous smile painted across the creature's white face, and black hair dangled down to its knees. Its fingers were unusually short but had long, sharp nails fit for attack. Beside it was a black tube with an arrow above pointing at it and a question mark next to it.
"I don't know what that tube is either..." Klaus muttered.
He touched the page gently and whispered, "Jile, what else happened to you?" He flipped to the last page and saw the date: 'December --, 1983'; the day was too scribbled to be understood. Below it was a child in a fetal position drawn with erratic, uneven lines. The text, erratic too, read:
I hear so much buzzing. The fire is burning out, and Mom isn't back yet. I'm so cold. So cold. I'm--
The text was cut short with a curved line leading to the edge of the page.