Moonlight Equilibrium

The moon bright, but subtle shine upon this darkest night. Lighting the dirt path for nearby travelers. The oil from my lamp sticky and smelly. The lamp is getting dimmer and dimmer the further I venture into the woods. My vision is hazy and my legs feel heavy. Something was forcing me to wander through these woods endlessly. Suddenly sharp agonizing pain starts to sprout all over my body. I fall to my knees in pain. My soft skin starts to turn rough and prickly. Thick hair puncture the foundation of my skin and shoot out of it. It feels like a million needles are coming out of my skin. My white and pearly teeth turn into those of a beast, it feels like daggers are sticking out of my jaw. My fingernails once finely cut and pearly, now are filthy and sharp.

Once the nightmare was over I cried out in pain. The only sound I could hear was those dreadful wolves, but that was so close? And there seems to be no wolves around here? I realized it was sound of my own pitiful cry. My body is now one whole abomination. Confused and scared I ran as fast I could away from this dreadful place. The trees had terrible disturbing faces, their once light brown bark turned into the color of a dead and decaying swamp tree. Their sharp knife like

branches reached out for me. “Ahh! Oh god not another one of those dreams again.” I woke up in my bed sweating and panting. I clutched my sheets as tight as I could I looked around the room, everything was back to normal for now.   

Day 1 Alfred Voynich Journal, I am becoming to get fearful of this recurring dream, maybe its a sign. I have also started to question my own sanity. It is very likely I am going insane because of this “nightmare”. Until then I’m just going to see how things unfold. I have analyzed everything about this dream I now know by heart what happens, where ,and when, but I still don’t know why? Why is this dream forever in the back of my mind. Why can’t I get over it? I swear it was so vivid it didn’t seem like a “dream”.  

The mornings seemed shorter as the nights grow longer. I spent days in my quarters researching for anything that would tell me what i’m experiencing. The books started to pile up and none of them had anything, but there was one book left. It was a an old book of fables I picked it up and blew off the dust that filled the room full of particles. I opened the book which seemed to have not been touched for years, the pages were so fragile, even the slightest touch could tear the ancient like paper. I started to read it vigorously, hoping to redeem all of time that was for nothing. Finally I had found a clue in the table of contents, which stated one passage that caught my eye, it is about a forest just north of the city. The short story in the fable book was about a man who transformed into a creature of the night when the moon reaches it’s full shape, the town had found out his secret and banished him for eternity into the forest. This is has to be a coincidence that my dream depicted a forest and this story also depicted a forest and a man who transforms into a “werewolf” it can’t be a coincidence.  

    

The Witch At Peppermint Point

It was a foggy Halloween, just like most in Town’s Town, but for some reason it didn’t feel the same. No one knew why, they just felt it in their bones. It got gloomier everyday; the rain became heavier, and the nights grew colder.

Now, I notice the strangest thing two days before Halloween. I was watching television with my skeleton for a dog, Fester. He was fast asleep at the foot of my bed, and I was dozing off as well until something caught my eye. Through a tiny crack in the blinds I saw a light at the top of Peppermint Point. Peppermint Point was a tall pointy like mountain that stood over the town like a scarecrow.

I’ve never seen something so peculiar before. I decided to call the cops, thinking that it was just some gothic punks performing a “Halloween ritual”. Oh, I couldn’t be anymore wrong. The cops did what I asked and I performed my ‘ritual’ for bed. Drink a glass of water with the sleeping pill, and drift off into slumber. I awoke the next morning, gave Fester some breakfast, and walked like a zombie over to the door. I grabbed the newspaper off of the door step. Sinking into my couch with my coffee, I read the headlining news. 

Missing Officers: 

“Late last night during a call all the way up to Peppermint Point two cops seemed to have vanished into thin air.Early this morning the officers car was found parked in the middle of Heights street. Anyone with any knowledge of what happened to the missing officers are advised to call their nearest police station.”

I sat in blunt shock. All morning those words were dwindling in my head like ghosts; missing, vanished, Peppermint Point. Whatever was up there was most certain no bustard in black jeans, it was much bigger. As the day passed the regret dug way under my skin. I thought that sleeping would help sooth my shaking body. Once again I was wrong, all night I had nightmares about a green and black figure, but I couldn’t make it out. The only thing that I could see, or hear vividly was the cracking voice of an old woman. 

“So, the little birdie says that you're telling your higher power to get rid of us... or am I mistaken” she said. She laughed maniacally after every pause and contained, “Are you a snitch? A troll underneath the bridge?” 

“I say we burn him...”, another voice cut in.

 “Just like his little friends?”, They both laughed uncontrollably. Then the dream faded, and and hour later became a blur. 

It was the day of Halloween and the day was as dark as the night. Sweat fell from my face to the floor. I took a look out of the glass window. I looked up at the mountain and swallowed. I heard the phone ring from the other room, trying to play off my worries. I answered it. From the other end I heard laughter, but not children's laughter. I heard the same voices from the dream. 

“Have I gone crazy?!" I yelled. I grabbed my coat and walked straight out the door. Before I took the next step, I looked behind me. I saw Fester at the frame of the door staring at me with a mild grin. I turned my head and walked the walk. It was about an hour until I reached the top of Peppermint Point. I saw the cave, which wasn’t lit like the night. I felt warm air breeze against my pale skin. It was coming from the cave.

 I gathered all of the courage I had a began in my departure into the forbidden cave. It was dark, musty, and had the smell of rotten eggs. I held my breathe as I walked further and further into the cave. About 30 seconds in, it was pitch black. I saw nothing ahead, nothing behind. I felt a tap on my left shoulder, and then my right. I heard their laughter. My palms were sweating. I fell to my knees. I got hit in the head moments later, and was brought into a new stage of darkness; a coma. 

About 20 minutes later I awoke above a pot of steaming liquid. There was light this time, and I saw the whole cave; full of broomsticks, hats, bats, pots, potions, and a large mirror. Three shady figures came out of the fog. It was three witches! I hoped to stay calm, but I let it all out. I screamed, I yelled, I shouted, but yet I was tied in ropes. I felt like a bug in a spider web. I was dangling over the bubbling pot. I looked up at the disgusting witches. They whispered, “A feast for Halloween night...” 

“I’ve starved myself 30 years for this meal.” 

“Cut the ropes, and boil my dinner!”

Once again, I panicked. One of the witches grabbed an unusually large pair of scissors. They stood up on each other’s shoulders and said, “Light as a feather!” Standing tall reaching the rope above my head, and with one quick snap the cut the rope, I fell down into the pot of steaming of water? All that was in the pot was heated water. 

“And he melts before us!”, the head witch cried. But I was fine. I just sat there. Nothing was happening besides my clothes becoming wet from the water. I looked up at their astonished faces. I stood up in the pot, and jumped out, “How!? This is some sort of witchcraft!”, One yelled. I turned around and poured the water out, all over the floor. It reached the witch’s feet and they began to melt. I walked out casually hearing nothing but the shrieks of three melting witches. Since that very day on Halloween night, I look out my window, and I’ve never seen a light at the top of Peppermint Point. 

-Milo 

Glasgow Smile

January 18th, 2003

It 4:00 a.m., watching the clock tick. Sit on my rugged couch, in my shitty apartment. Wait, I don’t mean that. Its beautiful, everything matches everything. The broken windows match the cracked walls. I love my life, who am I kidding, I fucking  hate it here. What time is it? 4:06, should I go? No let him sleep, can the dead sleep? No, yes; They’re forever asleep. Should I go? Perhaps I should write a letter to his family. No, actually, maybe. ‘Dear the Adams’, no this is stupid. Crumble it up and watch it burn. My stove doesn’t work, can’t burn. I’ll just put it in the trash can, but then the trash guys will see it. I’ll swallow it. What if I choke? I should do it. I’m going to do it. The room smells nice, and like shit. I need more car fresheners, the 137 I have can’t hide the stench. Why are razor blades sharp and square? Why not round, or oval? My, his hands are so soft and dry. The heaters on but he’s still so cold. Sometimes its hard to cut through skin, finger tips especially.  The tub is nearly full of red and black. His lips are so pure. I should kiss them. One kiss before a Chelsea smile, two kisses before a chelsea grin. What time is it ,4:12, 4:12 and only three incisions!? Fuck you! Perhaps I got a little to angry. I can’t tell what he looks like anymore. The gashes leave is identity distorted. Will my hands stain? I’ll wash them, or will the blood stain the sink? Say goodbye to your fingers and toes. Wrapped up in a plastic baggy, stuck in freezer. With the others. What time is it? 5:00. The calfs are nothing but fat; I should be watching over my weight. His neck is so slender, I love it. His ribs aren’t solid; They cut like paper. The heart has stop beating, is the love gone? Where are my nails? It’ll look perfect with the others. What time is it? 5:47. One, two, three... seven, and eight. It’s nailed perfectly alined with the others. I hate you! What time is it? 6:57. Shit! Dark red doesn’t show up on black bags. Three limbs per bag. Its 7:30 they should be here by now! I wait inside while he’s outside in the bins. There, there they are. Pick up the garbage, and gone. 

Now I am alone. 

***OFFICERS_CASE_REPORT*** 

   ON 2/23/03, AT APPROXIMATELY 10:55 P.M. LONG TIME SUSPECT EDGAR WILLIAMS WAS SEEN IN FRONT OF 145 N. RAYMOND ST.(TAXIDERMY SHOP) WHERE HE WAS SHOT A KILLED BY ON GROUND POTROL OFFICERS. ON 2/23/03, AT APPROXIMATELY 11:15 P.M. A SEARCH WARENT WENT OUT IN SEARCH OF SUSPECTS PREMISES. 
   ON 2/24/03, AT APPROXIMATELY 2:14 A.M. OFFICERS SEARCHED SUSPECTS APARTMENT 1265 E. SYCAMORE ST. ROOM 734, SECOND FLOOR. “WE FOUND THE ROOM TO BE REPULSIVE, SOME OFFICERS HAD TO WARE GAS MASKS. YOU, YOU COULD SMELL IT FROM OUTSIDE. I’M SHOCKED THAT NO ONE HAD CALLED ABOUT THE STENCH BEFORE. THE STENCH WAS SICKENING, THERE WERE BLOOD STAINS ALL OVER THE CAPRET FLOOR. THE LIGHTING WAS POOR, SO, IT WAS HARD TO SEE. THE LIVING ROOM WAS STALKED WITH KITHEN KNIFES, MEDICAL HOOKS, AND BANDAIDS. THERE WERE SOME BODY PARTS IN BAGS IN THE KITHEN, FINGERS ON THE CUTTING BOREDS. THE WAS ONE HEAD IN THE FREEZER, ALONG WITH MULTIPLE SMALL ZIPLOC BAGS FILLED WITH TOES AND FINGERS. IT TOOK A LONG WHILE TILL WE ENTERED THE REST OF THE APARTMENT. THE BATH TUB WAS FULL OF BLOOD AND PISS. THE MIRRORS WERE BROKE, AND A FEW MORE KNIFES WERE FOUND IN THE BATHROOM. IN THE BEDROOM, THE BED WAS TOREN TO PIECES. THE WORST PART WAS THE CLOSET. THE CLOSET WAS A SLIDING DOOR, LARGE CLOSET. BLOOD WAS DRIPPING TO THE CLOSET FLOOR. THERE WAS EIGHT HUMAN HEARTS NAILED TO THE WALL. FEW WERE PRETTY ROTTED, BUT, THERE WAS ONE THOUGH, THAT LOOK NEW. THATS WHEN I LEFT THE BUILDING.”  

RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,          

___________________________

PLT.  DAVID    R. BISHIP 

-Milo Schureman