Case #0100107
Statement of Blaine Mackenzie, regarding a camping trip made up to Vermont with their friends in 2001. Original statement made January 7th, 2010.
I haven’t told this story to anybody. And as far as I know, Grace Acker never told anybody either. I haven’t spoken to her in years, but it’s safe to say she don’t like talking about it. Neither of us did, back when it happened, and we sure don’t now.
Tommy and I have talked about it a bit. But we both try to leave it behind us.
I don’t know why the Hell I’m even telling you any of this.
Needed to get it outta my system, I guess. Been sitting on this for nine years come May. Haven’t told a soul.
I’m from down in New Jersey, moved to Boston a little over two years ago. Been thinking about visiting your little institute for a while, ever since I heard about it. It’s a funny little thing you’ve got going here. I’m amazed it’s still up, don’t know where you get the funding.
I would’ve been inclined to say it’s all bullshit, and. I still think most of it’s bullshit, but after what I saw that day… I’ll allow for some exceptions.
It was early May, 2001. My friend Severin Read, his girlfriend Grace Acker, and our friend Tommy Hirsch, we were all taking a road trip up the east coast. Wanted to take some time, see the sights, we were taking a gap year before we started thinking about college and the like. Fresh out of high school, and we were raring to go.
We took two cars--Tommy and I in one, Severin and Grace in the other. We would camp out in parking lots or find campgrounds to stay at, restocking as we went.
It was fun for a while. We made it up to New Hampshire, and decided to take a bit of a detour, a little change in plans that would add an extra day to the trip, and after a few hours of driving with no destination in mind, found ourselves in Vermont, in the middle of nowhere. It was just woods, where we were, for as far as the eye could see--which wasn’t very far, mind you, considering how the trees got dark past a certain point.
I think that might’ve been where things started to go wrong. I’d never seen darkness like that, and I haven’t seen it since, save nightmares.
Naturally, at the time, we’d blamed the weird darkness on… y’know, woods stuff, and left it at that. We didn’t care. We were kids just out of our parents’ reach for the first time, we were more focused on the adventure than the potential danger.
We were looking for a place to set up camp for the night when we stumbled across what seemed to be an abandoned campground. I’m still amazed at how stupid we were--our first thought was sweet, free campground.
It wasn’t until later I began to wonder why it was deserted.
We were deep in the woods, so there was no reception. It was just us and the woods at night, which is such a classic horror movie set-up, I don’t know how we weren’t on edge all night. The fact of the matter, though, is that we weren’t worried at all. Just excited to have so much space to ourselves.
We set up a fire, played some games, drank a bit, dared Tommy to eat a marshmallow from an old pack of them we found sitting next to a pre-built firepit. He didn’t get sick, but it was still fucking nasty--funny, though.
The four of us were sitting around our fire when the night began to go downhill. Severin said he needed to piss, and that he’d be back in a minute, before he wandered off.
He was gone for twenty minutes before we started to get worried.
“Takin’ a long shit,” Tommy had suggested, and Grace had swatted his arm.
And then we heard Severin shout. It was a wordless, scared sound, just… a noise, a yell from the parking lot area. We sat there, frozen for a few solid seconds, before I got up and cautiously made my way towards where we’d heard the sound. Grace and Tommy just sat there, watching me, frozen.
Severin wasn’t in the parking lot. There was no sign of him. Just our two cars. Grace was distraught, and I calmed her down while Tommy began looking.
We’d searched every section of the campground by 11 P.M., and Severin was nowhere to be found.
I swear to God I’d heard him shout for us, and yet there was no sign of a fight or anything of the sort. All his things had been left behind, it was like he’d just disappeared. There were no leads, and Grace was starting to lose hope. I didn’t think we’d ever know what happened to him.
And then the Stag showed up.
The main thing about it, was that it was big. The next notable thing about it, was that it was dark. It’s eyes were white pinpricks, and its coat was darker than the shadows that stretched across the campground. It was like it was made of the darkness, shifting unnaturally across the Stag’s skin. And I write Stag, not stag, because there is a difference, and it’s one you couldn’t possibly fathom unless you saw the damned thing.
A dark, reddish-brown ichor dripped from its antlers and face. Too dark to be blood, but I don’t know what else it could’ve been. You could hear its breathing--it sounded sick, every inhale accompanied by a deep, rumbling wheeze.
We had regrouped by our fire when it arrived. It’s mere presence made the light practically die out, leaving a few embers still glowing in the bottom of the pit.
The Stag screamed. It was an indescribable and yet familiar sound. It was the dying shriek of a ghost and Severin’s wordless shout from just hours earlier that had set us searching. It made my blood run cold.
Severin’s whereabouts didn’t matter anymore. We ran.
I ended up separated from Grace and Tommy. I’d run towards the treeline, crashing through the pitch black woods. I could hear it breathing behind me, but not its footsteps--for a creature of that size, I thought for sure I’d be able to hear it trampling the earth, but it was just that fucking breathing.
I just ran. I ran for as long as I could, as fast as I could, but the Stag was on my tail the entire time, I could feel it.
Eventually, I tripped. Because of course I did, right? I tripped over a root or some shit and went down, and by the time I’d realized what had happened, the Stag was right behind me. I flipped onto my back and crawled backwards as best I could, trying to put distance between us, but it kept advancing until I was backed up against a tree.
I was trapped.
I didn’t know what to do. I’d been backed into that corner, and the thing was just staring at me, wheezing all the while. A sound like a growl rumbled from its chest, and it lowered its head to glare at me with those burning white eyes, whatever was on its antlers dripping onto my face and shirt.
It smelled like a rotting animal carcass and burning hair. It carried the sweetness of sickness and death, so thick I was practically choking on it.
“Leave my wood, child,” it said, voice deeper than anything I’d heard, loud enough to shake the earth and trees, enough to leave my head pounding.
I just nodded mutely. It stepped back, away from me, before disappearing. The scent lingered, and I sat there for… I don’t even know how long. I just sat there and tried to breathe. By the time I’d gained my bearings, the scent still hadn’t faded.
I got up and stumbled back to the cars on shaking legs.
Grace and Tommy looked shaken, but better off than me. They’d gone back to the campsite when they realized the Stag had chased after me instead. They asked me what happened, but I didn’t say a word, just dropped my keys in Tommy’s hand and all but crawled into the backseat.
I was covered in what quite honestly looked like blood, smelled like a dead animal, and wasn’t talking. I’m surprised they didn’t just abandon me there.
Grace went back and got our things before transferring anything she wanted from Severin’s car to mine. They’d given up the hunt, it seemed. Grace took the passenger seat, and Tommy drove us out of there. It was around one in the morning. We didn’t stop until we reached a motel, and Grace called the police to report Severin missing.
The last thing I saw of that campsite was the Stag, watching us go, and all I could hear was that rattling wheeze.
They never did find Severin’s body.
FOLLOW-UP NOTES
... God, I hate anything relating to the dark like that. Personal grievances aside, this statement has... a lot to go off of, actually. Blaine Mackenzie (now Blaine Hirsch), Grace Acker, and Tommy Hirsch are all alive and well. Mx. Hirsch refused our request for a follow-up interview, said nothing’s changed since their original statement.
Mr. Hirsch and Ms. Acker didn’t have much to say, just confirmed what Mx. Hirsch reported in their original statement.
I’d say the statement is believable enough. Animals made out of darkness aren’t too far-fetched a concept. I don’t think we’ll be looking too much further into this.