The Forest Unknown

Note from the Bureau: This incident, caught all on one trail camera, is about two victims of an entity that we have had no knowledge of until this point. After the events, our agents have locked down on the forest and are combing it over to capture or eliminate the threat.

Trail Camera 1, October 1, 2024

“-not what I’m saying.”

“But it’s what you’re implyin’, which is worse.”

The two individuals in frame are Victim A and Victim B. John Mallory and his cousin, Duke Mallory. At the time of this recording, hunting season was a month away. Based on previous arguments found in other recordings, Duke was unsubtly accusing his cousin of wanting to hunt before time, both illegal and ‘against the rules’ of their friendly rivalry.

The man adjusting the camera has a cap on, long fuzzy beard, and glasses perched on the middle of his slightly broken nose. It is hard to tell due to the trail camera being in night mode what color his hair and eyes are, but reports state he had brown hair and green eyes.

When he is finished adjusting, he steps back, the camera focusing in on both victims standing there. John is wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, boots, and suspenders. Duke, who has on a university ball cap with a buzzed head and no beard, is wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

“I ain’t implyin’ nothing, you two-dollar word jerk,” Duke says, his voice scrambling a bit as the camera seems to fritz out, before adjusting itself again. “I’m just saying, sure is weird you’re putting cameras out this far ahead a’time.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to it,” John spits back, their ‘friendly’ rivalry seeming to rankle each other. “Jus’ want some security.”

“Security,” Duke scoffs, thumbs in his pockets as he adjusts his stance, heel digging into the mud of a previous day’s storm. “Security against what?”

“Been hearing things again,” John mutters, walking away to crouch down on one knee, picking up a few poles and screwdrivers. “Out there.”

“Aw, John,” Duke says, another conversation it appears the two have had many times. “Hearing things again? You been talking to Marjorie again ‘bout ‘em, right? Ain’t nothing out here besides the deer we’ll be skinning.”

Doctor Marjorie Jenkins, professional therapist located in Dallas, Texas. John Mallory had been visiting her due to the sudden loss of his teenage son two years ago, compounded with the loss of his wife at his son’s birth. From records we were able to gather, John had thought he started to hear his son’s voice in the woods where he would play, repeating his name or just saying ‘help’ over and over.

John has stated that his son never requested help from the forest, and that the incident in question was sudden, and he was nowhere near it. Doctor Jenkins came to the conclusion that he had been experiencing guilt manifesting itself in the ‘strange voices’, and they had met twice a week before this point.

A week before this moment, John had stated he heard no more noises from the forest, and had been in a jovial mood.

“Not that kind of noise,” John says, picking up the poles and hefting himself up on his feet again, brushing hands off on his jeans. “Jus’…somethin’ rustling. Bigger’n a deer. Just let me do this, Duke, c’mon, it’ll…it’ll help,” he pleads, and Duke scratches at a small mark on his jaw, looking at he ground, up again, then sighing.

“Fine, fine. If the stupid cameras will help, whatever. I’m still beating your ass at the season.”

The two laugh, clapping each other on the back, and walk away. No other motion is detected.

Despite the fact that John set up five trail cameras in total, it is only the first that both recorded the events in their entirety and survived the ensuing carnage.

Trail Camera 1, October 3, 2024

First activation: a squirrel is sniffing at the lens. It soon leaves and the camera switches off.

Second activation: a woodpecker lands on the edge and knocks its beak against the glass. After realizing it is not a tree, it flies away. The camera switches off.

Third and final activation of the day: a deer has approached, ears flicking back and forth. No antlers can be seen. It looks young, hardly big enough to be far from its mother. It approaches slowly, barely making a noise against the muddy earth.

Something in the distance makes a cracking noise.

The deer freezes, its head whipping around and staring out into the treeline. Its ears are pinned back, its tail up in the air. Another crack, and another, and then something sounds like several whips being used in the air and a crackling, high-pitched keen can be heard.

The deer takes no chances, and sprints the other way, bucking against a tree and using its momentum to send it flying off into the forest.

Whatever it was, it never approaches, but distant screeches of a fox and snapping of jaws can be heard.

Nothing approaches, and so the camera switches off.

Trail Camera 1, October 4, 2024

Despite noises and limbs creaking, nothing fully activates the camera.

This goes on for a good many days.

Trail Camera 1, October 12, 2024

“…an’ I’m telling ya! It was out here this time!”

Victim A, John, has appeared within frame. Today he is wearing overalls with a plaid shirt, and he is wielding a shotgun. Per the time on the camera, it is eight at night, the sky dark against the backdrop of trees. He is wildly pointing it into the distance, but never at Victim B, John, who has appeared at the side, hands up.

“John, John, you’ve gotta relax,” he pleads, jerking when John whips the gun up higher, his arms shaking. “I know it ain’t good stayin’ out here on your lonesome. Come on. It’s just a big ol’ buck, and time huntin’ comes, me and you’ll share the points. What d’ya say?”

“Ain’t no buck,” John seems to snarl, even as his body shakes, stumbling over a tree branch as he glares into the shrubbery. “Ain’t no buck makes noises like it-like it knows things. Like it knows...”

“John,” Duke says, sighing. “John, it ain’t know nothin’. It’s a dumb, dumb animal. It does dumb animal things. Like run into fences and trees! Or lock horns with another dumb animal!”

The silence of the forest is broken by some distant, shuddering yelp, and something in the distance falling. John backs up fast, cocking his gun. “You hear that! You hear that, Duke!”

Duke seems exasperated, rubbing a hand over his face. “Ridiculous-John. John. That’s just a dumb fox. They make them noises! All yip and yelps and screamin’ like they’re tied ta fit! C’mon John,” he says, slowly reaching out to his cousin, gently touching his shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s go back and have a drink.”

John seems not to hear him, wild eyes searching the forest line for the longest time. Nothing more is heard from the forest and he slumps, slowly nodding his head. “Yeah..I…yer right…ain’t nothing…just a dumb fox. I uh…I’m sorry, Duke…I keep-“

“Ain’t nothing,” Duke says, pushing him gently out of frame. “Family’s here ta help, always.”

The two leave the frame, and the camera starts to wind down, only for something long and arching to appear from the treeline, plunging into the earth and stopping there. Some noise rattles out from behind the trees.

“…ain’t…nothing…” echoes strangely, and then a keening laugh of a fox is heard before the long limb pulls away.

The camera, sensing no other movement, shuts off.

Trail Camera 1, October 15, 2024

Each time the camera activates this day, that same horrible keen of a fox can be heard, and various animals are seen running away.

Nothing can be seen of whatever creature is chasing them, however, nor do the cousins reappear at any time.

Trail Camera 1, October 29, 2024

The two cousins are setting up what appears to be a lookout station. John has taken his truck into the forest, and Duke is helping set up additional waters, a fridge attached to a solar panel, and several stockpiles of ammo. He keeps looking at John, who seems paler than usual, his hands shaking as he places a tarp down, pushing a pole into a ring to keep it tied down.

“Now, I ain’t saying nothing,” Duke starts, but John cuts him off.

“Then don’t.”

“John, c’mon. I’m just. How you gonna hold a gun shakin’ like a leaf?”

“Ain’t nothing,” he says, picking up another spike to drive into the ground, clearly setting up a tent as Duke stands up. He looks like he wants to say something but somewhere in the distance, the fox yelps again. His head whips around as John stares, almost sullen, at the treeline.

“That fox still around?” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his shaved head. “Thought it’d go off by now.”

“Ain’t no fox,” John says, but doesn’t elaborate as he continues to stake down the tarp first, then starts on the tent.

“If you’re gonna be this way the whole time-“

“I ain’t any way about it-“

The cousins seemingly take up to arguing suddenly, Duke stepping in close, John waving the rubber mallet in the air. Their conversation consumes them as birds fly high over the air, wind rustles through trees, and without warning, something starts crashing through the brush of the forest.

They pause their argument, John staring terrified at the trees before scrambling for his gun while Duke takes a nervous step back. “What the fu-“

An enraged scream that sounds much akin to a fix rips through the forest, and something long and white shoots through the air, piercing a screaming Duke through his chest. He screams so loud he starts to choke, coughing sharply as blood pours down his wound and his mouth, his hands limply pawing at the strange thing piercing his chest as John shouts, racking his gun.

“Duke! Duke! I’ll get ya, I’ll get ya, don’t worry!” he chants, blasting the gun once, then twice, but he doesn’t hit the limb holding a limp Duke. He curses, trying to reload as the white thing swings John around, some more white limbs peering through the trees. “I’ll kill the sonuva-“

“…ain’t…nothing,” cackles the strange entity, whose head finally peers from the forest treeline. It looks like a spider, many roaming eyes all blood red with fangs. The skin is pure white, and it seems to be pleased with the prey it has caught. “Daddy…help…daddy…John…John, I love you…”

The entity switches voices at an incredible pace. One moment, it sounds like Duke, the other, a teenager pleading for his father. The last voice sounds like a woman, her tone gentle and kind, and John stares, wide-eyed at it, swallowing as the gun shakes in his hand. Duke coughs from above, gurgling as the man legs pull the entity in closer.

“Oh, John…I love you…”

“You…you sound like her,” he chokes out, his gun shaking in his hands, clearly crying. “Y-You shut up! You don’t get to sound like my Sara!”

His gun shoots twice, but despite it clearly hitting the creature, the being never acts like it hurts.

Instead, it impales John just the same, lifting the screaming man and the limp one high in the air before bashing them against the truck over and over, cackling madly and sounding like a fox that has found something to play with.

When the truck is battered, and the men grow silent and bloody, it brings both to its enlarged mouth, picking them off like berries from a vine. Horrible crunching noises can be heard, along with lapping noises as it finishes its meal.

The entity can be seen thrashing the truck, as if looking for more, all the while crooning in various voices or chittering like a fox. One voice sounds like an older woman calling for a dog, the other like a young child asking a question.

It grows bored of the truck, pushing it to lay upside down, before a deer comes skidding into view and it leaps after it, tearing into its flesh as the camera continues to record.

The trail cameras are not found for another month, the two men reported as missing only a week after their deaths. Their families had assumed them to be hunting, but Duke had promised to check back in with his wife at the end of the week.

Several cameras were destroyed, while this one was smeared with blood and gore, but left alone.

We do not know why that is.

We do not know what that creature is.

We will have to try to quell the public’s fear so as not to start mass panic.

Meanwhile, agents have reported the forest to be quiet and full of animal life, but nothing indicating a large creature had taken up residence there.

In the meantime, we have instructed the town to stay from the forest, and to not listen to fox calls or human voices, if they hear them.

We will find it.

And we will eliminate it.

Note from the Bureau, Agent Steel: I have taken the liberty of informing the families there was no video proof of their loved ones’ attacks. I feel that the horrific scenes cataloged here would be too much for them. This, however, was only the first of many. Not just in that town.

In others.

Some in the same state. Some miles away. One was even in another country.

We’re doing all we can to minimize the threat to human life, but…

What is this thing?

…and why are there so many of it?

Hopefully, we find our answers soon.

Date: December 30, 2024