Mystogan Mountain
November 4, 2015 – 3:20 am –
Entry 1
Journal of Tyler E. Rivington Today is the day that I venture to the other side of the World. That starting sentence seemed a bit bombastic, but it’s true. I will be travelling to a rather small town, possibly village, not entirely positive, to go and live on Mystogan Mountain. For some reason, this particular mountain hasn’t been placed onto any sort of map. Which is rather odd, but I’ve honestly never taken the thought to my heart, nor my mind. The reason for my going to this new and mysterious mountain is for my studies. I am a Paleontologist. To many people, including friends and family of mine, not that I have many of those, choosing this as a career was a mistake. But I don’t believe that. Yes, I have to go to some bizarre and possibly dangerous places to dig up fossilized plants and bones. At least, that’s the short way to categorize us Paleontologists. I, personally, don’t mind it. I’ve been obsessed with things that are in the ground and finding, along with identifying, exactly what it is my whole life up to now. My obsession with this rooted from Miners, turning into Pirates, eventually rounding towards my obsession of Dinosaurs. Which became very much known by the time I was about six or so. Thanks to the discovery of the movies  Jurassic World. (Allen Grant, my childhood hero.) Now, how about I get further into what Paleontology is actually about, and the different sub disciplines of said career while I am driven to the airport with my boss and my other co-worker. Paleontology is a rich field, a field filled with stories and mysteries. A long and interesting past with an intriguing and bright future. Hopefully anyways, it all depends on the future generation at this point. Many people believe that Paleontology is all about the study of fossils and Dino bones. Honestly though, Paleontology is much, much more than that. Which people would know if they actually tried to look up what it is that we do and what different sections of this choice in a life career there are. More than even I thought there were. Paleontology is traditionally divided into various sub disciplines. Let’s start with the first one to pop into my mind, shall we? 1. Micropaleontology is about the study of generally microscopic fossils, regardless of the group to which they belong.
        2. Paleobotany is the study of fossil plants; traditionally includes the study of fossil algae and fungi in addition to land plants.
        3. Palynology is the study of pollen and spores, both living and fossil, produced by land plants and protists.
        4. Invertebrate Paleontology is the study of invertebrate animal fossils, such as mollusks, echinoderms (A marine invertebrate, such as a starfish, sea urchin, or a sea cucumber.), and others.
        5. Vertebrate Paleontology is the study of vertebrate fossils, from primitive fishes to mammals.
        6. Human Paleontology (Paleoanthropology) is the study of prehistoric human and proto-human fossils.
        7. Taphonomy is the study of the processes of decay, preservation, and the formation of fossils in general.
        8. Ichnology is the study of fossil tracks, trails, and footprints.
        9. Paleoecology is the study of the ecology and climate of the past, as revealed both by fossils and by other methods.
Just in case whoever reads this or finds it depending on what happens to me in the next few years, ecology means “the branch of biology that deals with the relations of organisms to one another and their physical surroundings.”. Or, on a more political advance, it means “the political movement that seeks to protect the environment, especially from pollution.”. As you can tell, Paleontology has more to it than most think. Paleontology is the study of what fossils tell us about the ecologies of the past, about evolution, and about our place, as humans, in the world. It incorporates knowledge from biology, geology, ecology, anthropology, archeology, and even computer science to understand the processes that have led to the origination and eventual destruction of the different types of organisms since life arose. Now that I’ve got the definitions and whatnot off of my chest, let me explain what field of Paleontology I chose. Which would be Paleoanthropology. AKA, Human Paleontology. Something just fascinates me anytime it comes to finding skeletons of humans, or maybe animals that closely resemble humans, that have been in the ground for who knows how many years. I believe that it’s the not knowing factor that really triggers my interest. Not to mention, I also like to help out in the Vertebrate Paleontology since finding fossils of primitive fish in mountains really get me interested. Because we don’t know how it got there. Maybe someone of something caught the fish and ate it there? Maybe there used to be a river and it died in the river, or where the river had dried up? Or, it could have been salt water, and the oceans of today could have been that big. And when high tide turned to low tide, that fish was stuck there, and died. But it really strikes your interest and imagination since there is an element of not knowing. We’re halfway to the airport, it won’t be long before I have to put my Journal up, but I just wanted to state beforehand, if there was a chance of you becoming a Paleontologist, go for it! Not only does that mean that most trips are free, but you meet a lot of intelligent and amazing people along the way. Not to mention that the teachers are awesome. And this is coming from a twenty-four year old man. A single twenty-four year old man in college with a high-paying job, ladies, I’m looking at y’all. But honestly, all jokes aside, the job is amazing. I am making a lot of money. I got out of High school with a full-ride scholarship and I had taken AP classes while still in High school as to not have to take the college courses for Geometry and English. Plus, no more PE. Which I am very happy with considering that I pretty much hate any type of physical exercise unless I know why I am doing it, and if it’s truly worth it. Not to mention, I am bilingual. Italian, Spanish, French, Swedish, and I am currently working on my Russian. Which is absolutely amazing since I’ve always wanted to learn all of these languages, though I will be trying out Japanese later on once I’ve buckled down both Russian and Finnish. Because anywhere with a lot of mountains or a vast landscape is where we might be. And these places have multiple mountains and vast landscapes. Plus, Italian was a language that I’ve always wanted to learn. Favorite quote in Italian? Maledetto bastardo! Which means, in Italian, damned bastard. One of my first sayings in Italian. I’m rather proud of that. Not to mention, doing amazing in my classes in school and saving up money and having about two jobs during the Summer and a part-time job during school really helped me buy the tickets to get to Canada. Considering how I am from Idaho, US. But I am travelling way off topic. My past and everything behind, if there were ever a chance for you to  become a Paleontologist, please take it. So, let me think about everything that I’ve written down for my first Journal entry.
        –Introduction (Kinda)–Check.
        –Where I am going–Check
        –How long will I be gone?–I will be absent from Canada for two to four months.–Check
        –What is it I do for a living?–Check
        –Explaining my job–Check
        –Unexpected off-topic ramble–Check
        –Tell people to become a Paleontologist–Check
        –Do check-list–Check So, since I am finished with everything and I only have about five more minutes to where I can actually write, it is time to say goodbye. Bye-Bye, Entry 1! Sincerely, Tyler E. Rivington.
P.S. I know that I might not seem like the hard-working type or a studious student because of how I write, but why not add my personality into the things that interest me and while talking about myself. Only business writing when it comes to my actual work/studies.
_____________________________________________________________________________ November 6, 2015 – 11:20 pm –
Entry 2
Journal of Tyler E. Rivington So, we have arrived at the village, not town, that resides at the bottom of the mountain. Which, to be totally honest, standing at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to our cabin which resides on a cliff of the mountain, it’s rather terrifying. I’ve always been told, since I was a young boy, to follow my heart and trust my gut. And right now, my gut is telling me to turn tail and run like the Devil is on my heels. But my heart is telling me to follow after my co-worker and boss/professor and get the job done. Follow my heart or trust my gut? Not to mention, the residents were acting rather strange. The men seemed big and gruff, though skinny and lanky at the same time. Not to mention they treated us rather coldly, or as my co-worker put it, “like a bunch of jackasses that didn’t have any milk left, so they came out in a sour mood.” Which is probably one of the weirdest things I’ve ever hear come out of his mouth. Speaking of which, my co-worker, is Ethan Jones. Well, Ethan Michael Jones. He’s a tall blond with rather piercing grey eyes. Though he’s not that bad. Sure, he’s more of a pessimistic guy who isn’t much of a morning person, but he’s a pretty cool dude once you get to know him. He’s tall, but not very lanky. More on the buff side. He has to wear glasses, near-sighted, but they compliment him, honestly. And Ethan’s blond hair stops about mid-neck length. He also has a tattoo of a snake impaled as well as wrapped around a dagger with a map behind the dagger with a rose crisscrossing with the dagger. Creating a cross of sorts. Just an FYI for any girls who are interested in tall and buff blonds, he’s Hawaiian. Now, onto my boss/professor. He’s a cool guy as well. Shorter than Ethan and only an inch under my own height. Which, by the way, I am 6’2″. He has black hair peppered with white along the sides, but it looks good, honestly. His name is Terrence Frey. I don’t know his middle name, but that’s fine. I do know his favorite color, which is orange. Anyways, Prof. Frey is a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, has a smile on his brown face. He also has little crinkles around his light brown eyes each time he smiles or squints. Prof. Frey doesn’t really need glasses, but sometimes he’ll wear a pair to help him grade papers or check a list or document at work. He’s kinda short, not that I can be talking, but a relatively skinny guy. He just has a little bit of fat. Though he does have a big nose. Not overly large to where it looks funny and it’s the first thing you notice about him, but it is one of the things that you notice shortly after meeting him. Just a small fact, my boss/professor is mixed. Half black, half white. I never wrote about my appearance, so, here we go. I am a 6’2 white male with slightly wavy, light brown hair. My skin is rather pale, though freckles align my face, shoulders, back, and a few scattered along my arms and legs. My eyes are a dark, almost deep sea blue. I am rather pessimistic, but I am happy and bubbly anyways. I strongly announce my opinions and I’m not afraid to call someone out on doing something wrong or when they are wrong during class. My ears are pierced, just regular piercings along with my second hole in both ears pierced, and I have a “smiley” piercing. In case you don’t know what that is, it’s where you get that rather thin piece of skin that connects ones upper lip to their upper jaw pierced. Well, at least the gums of your upper jaw anyways. Last but not least, my tattoo. A tribal tattoo that starts at the bottom of my neck, down to my bicep. It also grows towards my left peck, eventually fading once it starts to reach over to my right peck. But screw our appearances, let’s talk about what this place looks like. It looks fucking creepy, that’s what it looks like. The houses in the village were made either from brick or wood. The houses all looked broken down and dirty. Black sulfur or something like that covered the outer corner of the houses, crawling upwards and spreading outwards. Any railings, or anything metal for that matter, was rusted. The dead trains that took up a crossed off section of the railway had graffiti and rust all over them. Some of their wheels had been dislocated and there were even dead plant vines that had winded themselves around the trains. These stairs that I am, still, staring up at look rickety and old. As if the slightest pressure on them they’d break. Or like they were very, very creaky. The sky is filled with grey, gloomy clouds. It’s sad really. Not that I was expecting a bright blue sky with little to no clouds in sight, but I was expecting something different, that’s for sure. Plus, it was lightly snowing, still is. Okay, there’s a woman here. Her name is Belarus or something close to that. I guess I kind of have to follow her. I mean, it’s either that or turn tail and use up most of my money to get back to lovely Canada. I took my first step onto the stairs, I am cringing so bad right now. The wood is all rotten looking and it is so loud, I have hardly even put any type of pressure onto this fucking step. It’s ridiculous. But I have to mush forward as my professor put it. I don’t like this at all. But I need the money. For more than one reason. Plus, it might be fun while actually working. Oh! The reason it took me two days to create this new entry was because of some problems at baggage claim. My backpack containing my Journal couldn’t be found, and when we did find it, I had to rush straight onto the train to take us to the village. So I fell asleep within ten minutes on the train. Plus, I was too lazy to grab my backpack and get my Journal out once again, but let’s not spill that to Prof. Frey. Anyways, now that I am standing in front of the wooden lodge that my companions and I will be staying in, it doesn’t look half bad. Rather new. Almost as if it were made merely weeks ago just for us. Honestly, I am both freaked out and excited for the journey ahead of me. I mean, I get to hang out with my friend, I get more tips and skills when it comes to working out in the field, plus there’s no telling what we’ll find. Hopefully something ground-breaking. Literally. Not that I want one of us to step on loose ground and we all fall to our deaths after uncovering an underground cave. Yeah, no thanks. That doesn’t sound fun. Anyways, I’ve got to go. I’m tired and lazy and hungry.
Bye-Bye, Entry 2! Sincerely, Tyler E. Rivington
__________________________________________________________________________ November 7, 2015 – 7:32 am –
Entry 3
Journal of Tyler E. Rivington I am back to writing after grabbing some grub for waking up at such an ungodly time. So, it turns out that today will be a rather boring day. Maybe. Depends on how the professor and my co-worker take this unfortunate news. We are stuck in this wooden lodge for the day. Because of severe weather. Now, after getting used to the Canadian weather and trudging through things worse than the storm raging on outside, it still is very dangerous. Especially if you are on a mountain. I mean, there is a huge difference between a sidewalk on a hill and it’s snowing heavily compared to a small, rocky trail that leads upwards towards the tip of a mountain. Not to mention it’s gonna be slippery due to slush and ice that might stick to the rocks. We haven’t even been here a full day and I’m dreading this journey. I mean, I know that I was super excited at the beginning, but now… I wanna go home. But whatever. I’ll just have to suck up my homesick feelings and deal with it for the time being. Plus, these next few months are gonna fly by. Hopefully. Anyways, I’m getting off track, again. We will be stuck inside the lodge all day. What will we be doing? Cleaning equipment and counting/checking that we have everything. Plus eating food and lounging around. Might even play a card game or something. I might be able to watch television as well, though sadly, I cannot use my internet or text anyone. Because there is no such thing as signal while on a mountain across the World. I also found out that my co-worker and I have our own personal work journals, so this one can’t be judged on what I write in here. Though of course I will write down what happens during work, just as a precaution to any possible mishaps of my work journal. See what a motivated and prepared kind of guy I am? I’m pretty sure that this all will interest a woman. Or man. I’m fine with either sexuality. Maybe even someone transsexual. I am a demisexual, so before I even think of getting into a relationship with someone, I have to form a deep and emotional bond. Though I won’t deny a good one-night stand. And I really don’t care about what you think of me from that sentence; because it’s true. My dick will sometimes think before I can and there is nothing wrong with that. I only have one rather crucial detail to share. Last night I didn’t get much sleep, which isn’t strange for me considering I am an insomniac, but it wasn’t my mind keeping me up. It was an animal. Maybe. I mean, I’ve heard coyotes, wolves, regular dogs, and I have never heard a noise that frightening in my life. And it didn’t sound like it was outside. It sounded like it was in the room with me. Of course, it could have just been right outside of the lodge, near my room considering that my room is the only one with a window that I know of. But it was a low, growl of sorts. It sounded both human and animalistic, it almost scared the piss out of me. I don’t know exactly how to explain it, but I’m trying. Like a gravely chuckle mixed with a coyote howl and a wolves snarl. And it sounded like it came from the closet, or outside my window. Either way, it scared me, but that’s probably the only time that I’ll even hear it. So, I’m gonna cut this Entry short considering how we won’t be working or anything. Nothing exciting.
Bye-Bye Entry 3! Sincerely, Tyler E. Rivington
__________________________________________________________________ November 8, 2015 – 3:46 pm –
Entry 4
Journal of Tyler E. Rivington We found a prehistoric trail today. Yes, you heard it hear folks, we actually left the lodge to work. But I felt super unnerved. Some of the village men left with us, they were holding weapons and they were looking around nervously. Not to mention that they told us to stick close to them and when it gets to about two in the afternoon, then we all needed to head back. Creepy shit right there. And it felt as though something or someone was staring at me all day. It was probably one of our personal bodyguards, but this stare was filled with malice and anger. Maybe even hunger? Oh well, I’m probably just being paranoid. I mean honestly, I did catch the youngest of the three bodyguards kind of glaring at me before our eyes met and he whipped his head away from me. Acting as if he wasn’t caught in the act of, most likely, defiling me with his eyes. Anyways, work crap in case something happens to my work Journal.
________________
Location of trail: 54 N; 38 E”
The trail showed small rocks and what seemed to be eroded prints of sorts. If possible, might be an animal or person.
This trail seems to have been preserved for about 30 or so years. Depending on whether the trail is proof or not. Could be more, could be less. We’ll find out more.
The trail stopped rather abruptly at 62 N; 14 E”. We could no longer follow the trail.
When cement mixture was placed onto the first section of the trail (54 N; 38 E”), and then taken off, it showed an animal print. Possibly.
This trail could be a dead end.
_________________
I really hope that we didn’t spend the day looking at a stupid trail. One that won’t lead us anywhere. Plus, there’s no telling if I took the notes correctly for a trail. I didn’t choose to major in Ichnology. I chose to major in Paleoanthropology. I deal with human bones and fossils or at least animals that are primitive and have left behind their bodies…ish. Now that I’ve got that out of the way, I have to inform whoever reads this that the noise was back. And this time, it was accompanied by a dream. Well, technically nightmare considering that when I woke up I was gasping for breath and there were dried tear streaks under my eyes and gliding along my cheeks. Plus, my nose was running. But yes, the sound was most definitely back. And this time, it sounded closer. Clearer. Not muffled by a door or a wall, but almost as if it were standing on the outside of the closet instead of the inside of the closet. It’s freaking me out. But the nightmare, it was probably the worst thing that night, not the noise. Not that mutated growl. The nightmare was almost as if I were actually living through it. The nightmare started off brutal. Showing people, those villagers, slaughtering the woman, Belarus. They had gouged out her left eye, stabbing these knives of spears maybe into her shoulders and thighs, keeping her held upright on a wooden table. It was an old one, that’s for sure. It had dirty spots, more like splatters, covering it everywhere. They gutted her, placing some of her organs on a platter, the others into glass jars. Then they slit her throat and held up a silver gauntlet of sorts. The villagers were chanting in a tribal language, the wind was howling outside, and the setting was in some dingy old cave of sorts. But, you’re probably wondering, what was the strangest thing about this gruesome nightmare? Belarus didn’t scream once. She didn’t flinch or whimper in pain. She’s was quiet, staring straight ahead. Which made it seem as though she was staring straight at me. Though that isn’t possible, but it still seemed that way. I could tell, while in the nightmare, that the humanoid yet animalistic growl was blended in with the chanting, though growing louder. And I swear, when I snapped my eyes open, I saw something dart out of my line of vision. Scariest shit ever. I had asked both Ethan and Prof. Frey if they had heard any strange noises. They both said no. Ethan said that he could only hear the wind and possibly an owl at night. Prof. Frey said that he couldn’t hear anything from the outside, but he could hear my panicked breathing. Though he was half-asleep when he heard me. I don’t understand what the fuck is going on, but I don’t like it. I think that I’ll end it here. My hand is shaking just from remembering that dream. But, luckily, Belarus is fine. She’s an older woman with silver-grey hair up in a bun with some type of clip in her hair that is aligned with tribal beading. She looks youthful other than the slowly showing wrinkles and her hair. She said that she’s just about fifty-seven. Belarus is the cutest old woman I’ve ever came across.
Bye-Bye, Entry 4! Sincerely, Tyler E. Rivington
_____________________________________________________________ November 9, 2015 – 8:13 pm –
Entry 5
Journal of Tyler E. Rivington Belarus is dead. Supposedly she was found dead earlier this morning in her bed, died of a heart attack. I don’t believe that. I have that dream of Belarus dying and suddenly, the next day, she’s dead? Not to mention, that young bodyguard was there today. He seemed to be sweating up a storm. Like he was hiding something. I’ve always been the type of person that believes in supernatural beings and Karma, things like that. What can I say? I’m a superstitious bastard. Nothing happened at work. Except for the fact that I found a human, female, skull half-buried in the ground. Fresh. Blood and flesh still clinging onto it. Along with some silver-grey hair. This has to Belarus’ skull. That skull had to be hers. It was too fresh. I didn’t mention it to anyone. I was afraid of saying something and then the bodyguards going after me. Screw writing down what happens at work. I need to release my concerns and thoughts here. I am afraid that I can’t trust anyone here. I could trust Prof. Frey and Ethan, but they’d probably think that I was crazy. You know what? I probably am crazy. But I still trust my gut. And my gut is telling me not to trust anyone else other than my Journal with this information. It’s also telling me that my heart was stupid and that I should have abandoned this job while I still could’ve. I’m pretty sure that if I tried to run off now, the villagers would do something to me. It has to be a conspiracy. It HAS to be a conspiracy. The villagers are all in it. They’ve created a plan. That’s why, in my dream, Belarus reacted with no emotion at all. Because she was anticipating the end. She knew everything from start to finish beforehand. That’s the only way that it could have ended the way it did. I’m sorry, Belarus. I’m so, so sorry. But you knew. You probably knew about this since the beginning of your life. When did they tell you? When you were twelve? Did they sacrifice you to something? A God? An animal? An otherworldly being that you all worshipped? My most important question though, is if the rest of you family before you were killed like that to. Were they? I wish that I could have been there. Not to watch, but maybe I could have stopped it. Maybe I could have stopped your ultimate demise. Doubtful, but I feel so, so guilty. On a different note, I had yet another nightmare. These have to be visions of the future or something. Because it was the death of the young bodyguard. The young boy, about eighteen, who watched over us yesterday and today. It was different. I saw some of the villagers in the nightmare. They were dressed in velvet purple cloaks, black pieces of cloth covering their eyes, simple white dots showing where their eyes would be. The leader was wearing a red cloak made of silk. It was a man, buff and bulky. I still couldn’t quite see exactly what he looked like as to decipher him from the rest of those villagers. But the leader held a book in his hand, a curved dagger being held in his other hand as he spoke out loud, his voice thick with Russian. The only words that I could really understand were; “We”, “have”, “it is time”, and “rejoice”. The victim, that poor boy, was naked with the only clothing on him being the same cloth that covered the villagers eyes around his head, covering his eyes as well. But instead of there being two white dots where his eyes were supposed to be, there were none. It was simply black. Unlike Belarus, he was chained to a wooden post. It had ancient, most likely tribal, writing covering it. With different symbols and swirls filling in the gaps. The color of said symbols and swirls were either red, white, or black. With tiny, almost unnoticeable green dots that went in a straight line from top to bottom. His hands were chained up, his fingers missing with blood steadily pouring from the new nubs on his hand, falling onto the crisp and white snow beneath him. He was positioned onto his knees, his head bowed down in a respective way. His feet were missing. They had chopped his feet off. What kind of sickos do that? I had to watch as they tore his ears off with a wrench. Okay? A fucking wrench. Unlike Belarus, he flinched in pain, but nothing more. I also saw them put his ears on a string, accompanying many other ears. These villagers were still chanting the whole entire time in an unknown language. The noise was back as well. I could hear it. It was way closer to me. Almost as if it were at the foot of my bed. Watching me. That same noise. It’s gonna forever haunt me, I just know it. I have to be insane. I must be insane. But the noise this time…was different. It was almost as if it were trying to say something. Crazy, yes. Wrong, no. I’m never wrong. I’ve never been wrong. When I opened my eyes, I saw glowing red ones staring right back at me. But I blinked and it was gone. Maybe I should stay up late tonight and try to follow the villagers. To stop this deadly conspiracy. To put an end to the needless murders. I’ll be ending it here.
Bye-Bye, Entry 5. Sincerely, Tyler E. Rivington
__________________________________________________________ November 10, 2015 – 4:08 am –
Entry 6
Journal of Tyler E. Rivington …I’m so sorry. I couldn’t do anything. I felt so worthless. So useless. I watched as something mutated tore into that boy. I watched as the villagers stood by, chanting nonstop, sadistic and joyous grins covering their faces. I can’t go out there. I can’t face any of them. I have to get away from here. Mystogan Mountain was a terrible choice. Why did we have to come here? Why couldn’t we have gone to a place to where this wouldn’t happen? Why did we travel to an uncharted mountain in the middle of fucking nowhere? Why? Maybe this is why it was never documented. Maybe this is why no one knows about Mystogan Mountain. Because they were murdered. Sacrificed to some mutated being that the villagers here worshipped. I’m so sorry.
Bye-Bye, Entry 6. Sincerely, Tyler E. Rivington
___________________________________________________________ November 10, 2015 – 11:40 am –
Entry 7
Journal of Tyler E. Rivington I fell asleep and saw Ethan get slaughtered by the villagers. And then sacrificed to that mutated thing. I just want to know why. Screw how, tell me why. Why am I seeing this? Why is that noise in my room? Why did it feel as if the animal that creates that noise was breathing onto my face? Why did it sound as though it called out my name? I’m awake now, and I can hear the noise, that gravely tone calling out my name in a brutal whisper. It’s pounding within my mind. The only reason why I’m not out there with Ethan and Prof. Frey right now is because I pretended to be sick. Which right now, I don’t know why or how I’ve managed this long without having the feeling of bile rise within my throat. Why haven’t I thrown up yet? Why did it feel as though I enjoyed watching Ethan die in my dream? Why did it feel as though overwhelming excitement washed throughout my mind and body as I watched the villagers pluck his teeth out, one by one? Why did I enjoy hearing him howl out in pain? Why? Why?! Why is this happening? I’m scared. I keep seeing shadows and those glowing red eyes. Any time I turn by back to a room or hallway, I have the overwhelming sense that something is there, waiting, watching. Playing with me. I want to leave. I want to go back to Canada. Oh my gosh, I was so scared and paranoid that I growled at Prof. Frey and tried to hit him. I thought that he was one of the villagers. I thought that he was that mutated humanoid animal that was feeding off of Ethan and the young villager. I lashed out at my professor and boss. He looked taken aback, that’s for sure. Scared kind of. But whenever he talked, I didn’t hear anything. I heard static. And the static almost clouded over that fucking noise. It almost drowned out that voice whispering my name. Kill me. Someone kill me. I need to do something. I need to get out of here.
Bye-Bye, Entry 7. Sincerely, Tyler E. Rivington
______________________________________________________________ November 11, 2015 – ??? –
Entry 8
Journal of Tyler E. Rivington I killed Prof. Frey. I killed him. With a Bowie knife. I don’t know what came over me, but I couldn’t take it anymore. It was almost as if I didn’t have control over my body. As if someone were in my body, as if someone had locked me up in my mind, and made me watch. But I felt happy. I felt powerful. I felt in control even when the situation was out of my control. There’s something wrong with me. I saw something today as well. I saw the villagers in their cloaks, circled around the lodge, continuously chanting. I had a dream last night, predicting Prof. Frey’s death. Ethan is dead. He died yesterday actually, he didn’t come up mysteriously missing today. He was murdered yesterday while Prof. Frey was checking up on me. And I went and killed him. I went and killed Prof. Frey. But it felt good. The blood splattering onto my face? Amazing. The smell and taste was so sweet. But at the same time, I hated it. I was, still am, disgusted with myself. That mutated humanoid animal thing that I was seeing in my dreams? It’s just sitting at my feet. Wait, where am I? How…did I get here? There are a few bodies surrounding the chair that I’m sitting in. My…pet is currently chewing on one of the villagers severed limbs. Did I do that? If memory serves me correct, I did. The static is back. It’s just filling up my head. Wait, is it static? Or is it the sound of a horde of bees? No, no, I’m not wrong. That’s static. The voice that had called out my name? Gone. It was my new companion eating an arm that had called out to me. Crazy, right? And to think, I was freaking out over nothing. Mystogan Mountain is amazing. Everyone should come here. Everyone should come here and join the villagers conspiracy. Everyone needs to come to Mystogan Mountain. My pet might run out of food if you all don’t come here. Wait, what am I saying? STAY AS FAR AWAY FROM MYSTOGAN MOUNTAIN AS YOU CAN. DO NOT COME HERE. REJECT ANY OFFERS. LEAVE. IF YOU COME HERE, TRY TO FLEE. IF YOU CAN’T… I can put you out of your misery. I think that this is my last Entry for my Journal.
Bye-Bye, Entry 8! Sincerely, Tyler E. Rivington. Credit: GuppyChild Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.