I have without a secret, a secret so terrible that it cannot possibly be confided in any

of the living being on this earth, a secret that has nought at me for the past seven months

that continues the suck of life out of me with the passing of each day, and now it is consumed

my soul entirely. Dreams of that cursed place have certainly played

apart, and I find that not even sleep can serve as an escape from the horror that makes

his presence known in the back of my mind. I have learned that some secrets don't stay

buried, and they will wait with endless, deadly patience until they get what they desire.

I write this in a state of hopelessness and defeat, but also with acceptance of my fate, and

whatever fate has in store for me beyond that. I cannot avoid these forces that refuse

the rest forever. I brought this upon myself. I must accept responsibility for my horrifying

actions. I write this because I simply cannot let this secret eat me from the inside

out any longer, and I realise that it is time to open the cursed gates of my soul and

let whatever dark poison that dwells within spill out onto this page. Inc. has never been

so black. I might as well quit dancing around the details, and finally shed light, and what

truly exists among the crooked trees of black thorn woods. This nameless evil does not

stem from ancient tales of ancient entities passed down to the eons, neither is it facts

twisted into unbelievable fiction like certain tales. What now dwells within the cursed

woods is all too real, and is a direct product of my unforgivable actions. I suppose I should

begin by addressing the innocent person who incited the chain of horrors that eventually led

to the demise of both us in the long run. If Jonathan Getney had never stepped foot into

black thorn, then I could guarantee his longevity. But I cannot guarantee my own either way.

Jonathan Getney was a college student studying journalism from gridlock university, and had

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