-Entry 1: Static-

My name is Will Desmic, and 3 months ago I moved into my new house.  It’s a small little cottage nestled in the coastal forests of the American Northwest. The location is pretty ideal, since the drive into town is 20 minutes along a dirt road that eventually turns into pavement.  For an outsider looking in, the place is picturesque. The sunrises and sunsets paint the surrounding woodlands in beautiful hues of crimson, orange and pink light.  The air is clean, the scent of pine trees is all around, and at night the sounds of the forest are not unlike some random sleep ambient track you could find on Youtube.  I’d know because back when I lived in the city, that was the only way I could fall asleep.  

After graduating college and landing a job as a journalist for a gaming news company, I was able to move into a downtown city apartment.  Some people go on and on about how much they love the “Sounds of the City,” but I honestly grew to despise them.  The amount of sleepless nights I spent listening to the honking of car horns, tires peeling out on the streets, and the occasional shouts of drunk bar patrons are too many to count.  I was never really a city kid.  I grew up in a small town on the outskirts of a dense forest.  My friends and I would always play flashlight tag or hide n’ seek in those woods.  I was first introduced to the city when I went off to college, and the only reason I stayed was because of the job opportunities.  Don’t get me wrong, the city is beautiful, but it held nothing to the lush green trees and brilliant sunsets of my childhood.  Eventually I decided to return to my roots and began looking for a new place.

Being a journalist and spending most of my time writing articles and doing reviews on games and such, it was relatively easy for me to work from home. So after working myself up in the mirror, I walked into my boss’s office and asked about possibly relocating to somewhere more…quiet.  After haggling for a bit about the logistics of what I was asking, my boss gave me the green light to start looking for a new home.  I knew anything other than an obnoxious city would be ideal, but what I was really looking for was something more rural and isolated.  I’ve always been a bit of an outdoorsman.  Ever since I was a kid, I’d gone camping with my family, hiked countless trails, and gone on numerous fishing trips with my dad.  Though it’d honestly been awhile since I’d done anything similar to those activities.  After all, big cities aren’t exactly known for their dense natural forests, and the fact that my dad wasn’t really around anymore.  But I’m getting off course.

So the cottage.  Like I said, it was like finding Atlantis.  Nestled in the woodlands, not an extremely distant drive from town, and with a sense of quiet that was perfect for a hardworking journalist, I immediately leapt at the opportunity.  I quickly called the real estate agent attached to the property to inform them of my interest.  After closing on the deal, and loading all my belongings into a truck and moving van, I set off for the woodlands of the Pacific Northwest. 

When I finally arrived, it was everything I could’ve hoped for.  I was almost immediately flooded with memories of my past outdoor adventures.  After being given a tour around the property, I was only more convinced that this place was perfect for me.  When all was said and done, I was signing my name as the cottage’s new owner.  I was finally back in my element. 

I have this memory from my childhood that I can’t help but recall as I write this.  It's just one of those weird moments where one situation makes you feel the same way that a past situation made you feel.  Sort of a déjà vu moment. 

My Grandma and Grandpa’s house had this massive barkyard, and in it there was a huge oak tree that I loved to climb.  My mother would have mini-heart attacks whenever she’d see me 30 feet above the ground.  Still, no matter how many scoldings I’d received, I always returned for another climb.  Until one day, while we were visiting my grandparents over the weekend, I once again climbed into the tree.  What I didn’t realize however, was that a wasp colony had made a nest in that tree since my last visit.  I probably got stung around ten times and ended up spraining my ankle while scrambling down to the ground.  Ever since then, I’d wanted nothing to do with that tree.  In my mind, the image of it had been stained.  It was no longer a place of happiness.

That situation with the oak tree sums up exactly how I currently feel about my new cottage.  About a week after moving in, I started researching hiking trails in the area.  I had finished unpacking ahead of schedule and was well ahead on the current articles I was writing, so I figured why not use my extra time to get in touch with nature again?  After finding a trail not too far from my house, I made plans to go check it out.  

The following morning, I loaded up my backpack, ate a quick breakfast, and set out with my walking stick in hand.  I know it’s cliche, but hey, it made me feel like a rough and tough mountain man.  As a kid, big sticks found in the woods could be anything from swords to magic staffs.  Maybe hiking with a walking stick just reminded me of all the good times spent pretending I was some brave adventurer off to seek some lost treasure hidden deep within the woods.  So with a walking stick in hand, I set out for my first hike in what felt like ages.  I had been walking for about a mile when I first noticed it.  

It was faint at first, but if I was real quiet, it was unmistakable.  It sounded like radio static, almost as if someone had tuned an old radio to a channel with no signal.  As I continued to walk, the static grew louder and louder.  Eventually, it got so loud to the point where it was almost painful.  I started to feel dizzy and nauseous and was only able to keep myself from falling over by using my walking stick for support.  Just when I was sure the static couldn’t get any louder, it suddenly became dead silent.  There is a world of difference between normal silence and “Deafening Silence.”  What I experienced was the latter.  It was so quiet that I thought for a minute I had actually gone deaf.  The crunch of dirt beneath my boots confirmed that I could still hear, but this sense of relief was short lived.

As I looked around, I realized I had wandered off the path and into a small clearing of trees.  The canopy above was so dense that no sunlight penetrated the leaves and pine needles.  I didn’t remember even leaving the trail.  It was as if I’d simply blinked and been transported to some other area of the forest.  There was a trail that led out of the clearing behind me, but I didn’t remember using it.  A cool breeze rustled the surrounding trees and caused a shiver to run up my spine.  Something felt off about this place.  It was like that feeling where you’re in a dream but are aware that you’re dreaming.  Everything felt...fuzzy.  I was one hundred percent certain however that this was no dream.  

Not wanting to linger in the clearing any longer than necessary, I turned and headed down the path to what I hoped was the main trail.  The entire time I walked I kept hearing the occasional twig snap.  It sounded like it was coming from the trees to my right and left.  The further I walked, the more frequently I heard the snapping sound.  By the time I reached the main trail, I was almost running.  I stopped dead in my tracks however when I realized that the sun was setting.  I had left my house an hour ago at about 9:30 am.  There was no way I’d spent longer than 5 minutes in that clearing and 10 minutes getting back to the trail.  I checked my phone and the time read 7:34 p.m.  Almost a whole day had passed without me noticing.  Was that even possible?  

Not wanting to be out in the woods after dark, I quickly made my way back home.  I burst through my front door and collapsed on the couch.  My head was spinning and I couldn’t make sense of what I’d just experienced.  There was no way I’d spent an entire day standing in some random clearing in the middle of the woods.  It just wasn’t possible.  There was no way that could’ve happened, and yet it had.  According to my phone and the digital clocks in my kitchen and living room, it was almost 8 pm. 

Knowing what I know now, I should’ve packed my things and left right then and there.  Even as I sit writing and waiting for Agent Neils to bring me my next briefing.  Maybe I was in denial, maybe I just didn’t want to abandon my new sanctuary, or maybe I was simply curious.  If I think hard on it, I remember feeling some form of curiosity back at that cabin.  I think I wanted to know what exactly had happened.  I could never have imagined the events that would unfold or the things I would discover.  Neils is knocking on my chamber door.  I’ll update later.  

-End Entry-