G.O.D’s Journal
The Michigan Inquirer MAY 09, 2023 The following entries were transcribed by Michigan State University senior,Marlee Yarborough. Last weekend, she and three fellow students were camping inManistee National Forest while researching the Michigan Dogman— a locallegend recently popularized within certain online communities. There, theydiscovered a journal amongst the remnants of an abandoned cabin; written inside its worn leather cover was:“Property of G.O.D” Date: _/_ /_I don’t know the date, and I don’t care enough to find out; July something? It’s hard tokeep track since I started taking these stupid pills. I hate them— almost as much as Ihate this journal— almost as much as I hate you, Dr. Nelson… Writing isn’t “therapeutic”when you know your therapist is planning to read it; your entire racket is a scam, andI’m not taking your fake medicine anymore! Do you seriously think patients are writing their innermost thoughts for you to jerk-off to?They’re not! We all edit ourselves despite whether it’s intentional. Learning to feigncertain emotions just comes with the territory. Good people don’t exist— only goodactors… I’m pretty sure that’s a quote, but hell if I know who said it. Go ahead, Doctor— blame my cynical outlook on watching my mother die. Tell meagain how it caused my antisocial tendencies; we have all the time in the world now thatyou’ve convinced dad to put me in weekly sessions. Heaven forbid you— [text illegible]I’ll never forgive that selfish bastard for dragging me out to this dump… Life suckedwithout him ruining my last real summer break… He knows I’m going to stay inside thewhole time; he didn’t even tell me what we’re hunting… [text illegible]…he just repeatsthe same bullshit over and over!“Give it a chance, Glen,” or “come on, where’s that Delaney spirit?” —I’m sick of it! Date: _/_ /_Day 2— I hate this place! There’s no way I’ll last three weeks; I doubt I can make itthrough one! I’m using the bathroom in an outhouse for… [text illegible]…I couldn’t fall asleep until almost 5AM because of all the howling, and I’m sure it’ll bethe same tonight. I thought it was supposed to be peaceful out here— what a crock ofshit; the old man is lucky I can’t call a taxi! [remainder of entry illegible] Date: _/_ /_ Day 4— or maybe it’s 5… It’s so hard to keep track… There’s no electricity, no phones,and nowhere to go… There’s an old generator out here, but it only works a third of thetime… This isn’t how we should be living in 1998; we’re on the cusp of the 21st century,yet we’re in this backwoods hellhole like it’s 1898!It’s bad enough the wolves don’t stop howling until sunrise, but now someone has gonethrough our trash. Garbage was strewn all the way around the cabin like they weremaking a moat. Dad blamed raccoons, but I have trouble believing anything other thana human could form such a perfect perimeter…I just don’t see how another person would be way out here or why they’d bother. Ifsomeone were hungry enough to dig through our trash, why make a huge display? Dadclaims he slept through it, but no one could have slept through that; yet— when I try toargue— he says I’m being paranoid and rushes off… I haven’t been in the same roomwith him for longer than 10 minutes since the drive up here. We don’t even eat together.Every morning, I hear him drive away just as I’m drifting off, and— every evening, justafter nightfall— he returns and goes to sleep. He seems on edge— even more so thanwhen mom died— but if I ask him about it, he denies everything…I’m going to be the person who proves it’s possible to die from boredom. One day, he’llcome back, and I’ll just be laying here— dead. I wonder what the autopsy will say. Ihope they charge him with murder, because that’s exactly what it’ll be! I only wish itwould have happened before I had to clean up all that trash…Dad should have been the one home when that man broke in, but no— he was outdrinking with his buddies. Mom was the one being strangled while I hid under a bed. My18th birthday is going to be the last day I waste words on that asshole; he can die alonefor all I care. Date: _/_ /_It’s Day— shit— I still don’t know. Maybe I should’ve just written the dates… I wrote mylast entry the day before yesterday… I think…This morning started like any other. Dad left at the usual time, but he isn’t back yet…Now it’s 11:00, and I don’t know what to do; I don’t know if he’s hurt— or worse…. Do I go looking for him? I don’t even know which direction he went… If something didhappen, then I’d be completely stranded… He takes the truck like he’s afraid I’ll drive offwith it, and sure, I probably would have, but look what’s happened! [text illegible]I’m completely alone out here; I’d be grateful for Dr. Nelson at this point… At leastthere’s no howling for a change; I guess even wolves need a break every now andthen… Or maybe they’re just too full tonight. [text illegible]No, I can’t think that way… He has to come back; he has to. Maybe the truck brokedown and he’s waiting for morning so he can flag someone down… Or maybe he gothurt and had to drive straight to a hospital… Either way, he would send help; he has hisfaults, but he wouldn’t just abandon me here… He couldn’t… Could he? No… No, I’msure he wouldn’t do that… Not like this… Date: _/_ /_It’s almost 3:00, and he’s still not back… I have to go out there when the sun rises… Idon’t know what else to do… I also don’t know where to look… Maybe I should give myother theories time to play out… What if he is sending help, but I run off when all I had todo was stay put?![text illegible] …but if I don’t go, he’ll die… I don’t know if he told anyone our location…It would take weeks for people to realize we were missing, and, even then, help couldbe sent in the wrong direction… He must have told grandpa… I hope there’s enoughsupplies to last that long… Grandpa might assume we just stayed late… As far as he’sconcerned, the only medicine I need is a good kick in the ass… Date: _/_ /_Dad is dead… I guess this is technically the same day as my last entry, but not for muchlonger. I took advantage of the quiet night to sleep for a few hours before making anylife or death decisions. This journal will probably end up being a record of my final wordsrather than a therapy aid… It looked like a storm was brewing when I left, but— by some miracle— it held off.There’s only one way out of the cabin’s clearing, but the tire tracks soon diverged inmultiple directions. Thankfully, I found a roll of trail-marking ribbon and used it liberally.At that point, I still had a somewhat hopeful outlook… I was far more frightened at theprospect of getting lost than finding a scene of carnage that would haunt me for theremainder of my days— as if I weren’t already set in that regard… [text illegible]I searched for hours without finding anything before finally turning back. I intended tofollow my markers straight to the cabin, but I couldn’t help… [text illegible] …was thewidest path I’d seen yet. I followed the new tracks for at least twenty minutes beforecoming to a huge dropoff, and my heart sank as my eyes followed them right over theedge. I don’t know how long I stood there; I think I was waiting for some sign of life, butnone came. Eventually, I laid on my stomach and peered over the edge. At the bottomof a large ravine was dad’s truck; it had landed upside down, but there was no mistakingit…I knew what I would see if I went down there, but I still had to see it… I barely rememberthe descent… I called out upon approaching the wreckage, but then I noticed the stenchand the blood… Kneeling to see inside the shattered driver’s window, I collapsed at thesight of long dead eyes staring back at me; dad remained strapped to his seat, but hishead was turned at a sharp angle, and what remained of his face was frozen in aperpetual state of sheer terror.I accidentally placed a hand in the pool of blood collecting beneath him and pukedeverywhere; as badly as I wanted to run away, there were things I needed to collectfrom the cab. When I felt composed enough for the first attempt, I realized the truck hadmore damage than it should have received in the fall. There were deep claw marksalong the side, and one of the back tires had been ripped to shreds— like somemassive dog had used it as a chew toy…The thought sent a new wave of nausea through me, but I managed to crawl into thepassenger’s side. At first I assumed dad’s neck was broken— and it probably was— butthe reason it looks so strange is because it was nearly severed… Plus, his torso wasripped open and both of his arms were gone. I couldn’t find them anywhere…Something inside of me clicked… I understand why they call it survival mode, now… Itsuddenly became much easier to ignore my father’s mangled corpse in favor ofcollecting his gear. In the end, I walked away with a rifle, a box of [text illegible] …which was a great comfort to have on the hike back… I just wish I could have found the othergun.The climb out of the canyon was much more difficult than the trip down, but getting backgave me something to focus on— something besides the awful reality of mypredicament. I’m trapped in the woods with very limited supplies… I’m gonna die here;that’s all there is to it.If I had any sense at all, I would try to find help before exhausting all of my resources,but I can’t let go of the hope that someone will find me before that happens… Or maybeI’m just too afraid of facing whatever killed dad… Either way, I guess everyone was rightall along— I’m a coward. Date: _/_ /_I just want to go home. The howling started up again. It was only quiet for that onenight… Now it’s at least three days later, and it’s like it never stopped. Except for thefact dad died— that’s really different. Shit, I’m probably not far behind him…It’s so weird what stories will get stuck in your head when you’re alone in the dark… Theweek before we came here, one of my friends said he used to camp in this forest— butnot anymore… I thought he was just trying to scare me when he said his mom sawsomething with the head of a dog that walked like a man… He made it sound like a storyyou tell to scare little kids, so I didn’t think anything of it… She said it’s eyes made herfeel… [page missing] The only thing worse than hearing strange noises is hearing nothing at all. The minddoesn’t like silence; if you don’t give it something to listen to, it fills the void on its own…It always feels like I’m being watched— like something frightened all of the bugs andbirds into hiding, and now it’s just… Waiting… But waiting for what? I don’t know; that’sthe question, isn’t it? Waiting for me? God I hope not… Date:  _/_ /_ [first paragraphs illegible] I know what I saw; that thing out there isn’t a wolf! Wolves don’t walk on their hind legs!It can’t be a Dogman, either, though; there’s no such thing! It has to be some hairy asshermit wearing a mask; there’s probably some trick to make the eyes glow like that… Ibet that guy hasn’t left the forest in twenty years… He probably wants to line a coat withmy skin… But then what made the claw marks on dad’s truck?! Dammit I’m losing mymind! [a dark line strikes through the page, tearing a hole through the middle— likely the result of being startled by the following event] Jesus Christ, a window shattered; I wish dad were alive just so I could kill him myself. IfI… [text illegible] …I can hear the asshole walk over the broken glass… I’m locked inthe bedroom with a table jammed against the door, but “solid” is not a word I would useto describe it…I’m gonna die here; I can feel it. I know I am. I don’t wanna die. I thought I did, but Idon’t; I really don’t! God, it’s getting closer. Why? Why is this happening?! Its footstepsare so slow; why won’t it just get this over with?! Is it toying with me?! I don’t know whatto do… [remainder of page made illegible by ink smears] I think it’s finally over… I heard its footsteps fade into the distance as they retraced theirroute over the broken glass, but not before it had its fun with me… I put all my weightinto holding the door closed as it tried to force its way inside.For the first several minutes, it just stood there, sniffing, before a high-pitched whinepreceded the unmistakable sound of claws tearing at the wood. As its patience worethin, the door began to splinter beneath its weight, and I knew that was my last chanceto shoot it; by then, I didn’t care if it was a person, an animal, or both. In one motion, Iraised the gun, stood, and fired through the door as its center cracked open like an eggwith the creature’s last impact.The resulting sounds were deafening; my ears rang from a combination of the gunshot,the exploding door, and the shrill cry of a wounded animal. I could barely hear its retreatover the buzzing in my brain. Only when I heard the swinging door slam shut did I lowerthe rifle and rush to the window. I never entertained the notion of killing it. If things like that were easy to kill— it wouldalready be on display at some museum where tourists could gawk at it. I was only tryingto survive a little longer. No matter how hopeless your situation might be, it’s awfullyhard to just roll over and die… Still… I had to get one more look at it; I had to know if Ireally saw what I thought I saw… And I did— I swear I did.I’m not crazy; I’ve never been more clear in all my life since I stopped taking Dr.Nelson’s poison. There’s no better way to describe that thing other than a Dogman… Itlooks like a rabid Rottweiler suddenly learned to walk on its hind legs… It’s hard to saywhether its fur was black or just filthy and matted; its arms and legs were covered inpatchy bald spots, but it was hard to see with only the light of a waning moon.For one brief instant it turned towards the cabin, and I could see a bloody wound in itsright shoulder. Overall, it seemed more angry than hurt or frightened. If I’m still herewhen it returns, I don’t think I’ll be this lucky a second time. I have to leave… Date:  _/_ /_I slept as long as I dared, but I have to go now; if I don’t find help by nightfall, I’ll have todecide whether to come back or keep going… Either way, I don’t expect to survive verylong past that point… I’m gonna die, and this journal will rot away before another soulsees it. I don’t know… Maybe if I shove it under the floorboards, some of it will last longenough… Or it’ll rot away even faster… In the end, what does it really matter?I bet Dr. Nelson tells everyone I likely killed dad before offing myself… I hope they don’tbelieve him… I’d give anything to… [remainder of entry illegible] … Though this is the final entry, it’s noteworthy to mention that several pages have been removed for time allowance. … Update: MAY 16, 2023 What started as an innocent college project turned deadly for one MSU studentwhen a group of four returned to the Manistee National Forest to investigate a possible cold case from 1998. Many details are still unknown as authorities have yet to provide an official statement,but some sources claim police failed to investigate due to a theory the journal may havebeen faked, or— at the very least— the product of a mentally ill teen. Regardless, thetragic death of 20-year-old Patrick Morris is all too real.During the amateur investigation, students became startled by an unidentified sourceand fled the area. In their panic, they became separated and were forced to regroup atthe parking lot as it grew dark. Three students returned safely, but all attempts tocontact the missing fourth were met with failure.The official search began shortly after, and a gruesome scene was soon discovered.What remained of Morris painted a clear— though horrific— picture of a wildlife attack.Be sure to stay tuned for further updates as the situation develops. Credit: Page Turner Official Site Please Note the Author of this Creepypasta does NOT give permission for it to be used for any podcasts or narrations 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.