The Trees Have Eyes

by Tobias Wade

  I saw what he had uncovered. There were doors under the pile—huge, metal cellar doors. A chain was fastened around the handles, and the doors led straight into the ground. He stopped to smoke a cigarette, pulled a notepad from his coat pocket, and scribbled something down. After he finished writing he started looking through a flip phone.

  My head started to spin. There was no way...

  I sent a text to Dylan’s phone.

  4:19 AM

  Me: “Where is Dylan?”

  The phone in the ranger’s hand chimed a few seconds later.

  THIS PIECE OF SHIT HAD DYLAN’S PHONE.

  He read the text and whispered to himself, “I told you to leave it to the professionals,” and put it back in his pocket. I wanted to kill him. Blinded by rage. He’s started undoing the chains, making a lot of noise. I couldn’t let him disappear from my sight. I was running out of time.

  I gripped the cold, taped handle of the baseball bat, and quietly crept towards the unsuspecting park ranger. I felt like my body was moving without my control. Then… I did it. I clubbed him in the skull with the bat. Right before he opened the doors, I swung as hard as I could. He fell to the ground and didn’t move. The chain rested next to his bleeding temple.

  He never heard me coming. I’ll never forget the sound of the bat connecting. That dull thud and crack of solid wood smashing into bone. Sweat and blood misted in the air as he fell.

  I caught my breath and made my way to the cellar doors. I wished I hadn’t. It was the smell—a putrid stench of rotting of flesh—that hit me first. As soon as I saw the first human limb sticking out of the massive mound of corpses, I had to look away. My head was spinning, and my stomach turned over as I expelled what little food I had eaten that day.

  I ran. I ran as fast as I could, fueled by fear.

  Hours later I got back to Dylan’s apartment.

  I was still sweating and breathing heavily as I bought a plane ticket for the next flight home. I decided the best plan was to call the police when I landed. I just wanted to go home. My heart was pounding.

  Everything felt surreal as adrenaline pulsed through my veins.

  To my horror, red and blue lights flashed outside as a police car pulled up to Dylan’s door. I had to try and keep my cool.

  I stepped outside and met the officer halfway. I felt like I was going to vomit again.

  He had seen me pull in, and stopped to investigate. As we were talking about Dylan’s disappearance, the officer’s radio receiver sounded. My heart pounded in my chest as I listened.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Some campers discovered a scarecrow—strung high in a tree, with a noose around its neck. The campers claimed dark liquid was seeping through its burlap skin, and it was wearing a park ranger’s hat.

  My thoughts began to race. I’d made a huge mistake. The ranger was just investigating a lead which led him to the cellar. He must have found Dylan’s phone after I got those weird texts. But how did he get a key to the cellar? I… I acted so quickly. I hit him with the bat and ran.

  What had I done? I just left him to die. And most importantly… that cellar? What the fuck was that? My head was spinning. My hands were shaking so much I nearly dropped my phone as I handed it to the officer. I told him everything. I fell to my knees on the curb, waiting for him to handcuff me. Instead, the officer excused himself, and went to his unmarked car to make a call. I couldn’t help but notice a limp as he walked. He looked nervous as a small crowd of pedestrians gathered, drawn in by the red and blue lights. A short while later, the officer got out of his car, and walked over to me. I was still on the curb when he spoke:

  “I just talked with the chief. We believe that you may be at risk. We do not want you to panic, but we need you to be safe. I am going to hold on to your phone for now. Any texts you receive are considered part of this investigation. You are not from Colorado, correct?”

  I was confused. Was he not going to take me in? I had just confessed to assault.

  “Uhh—no sir,” I stuttered.

  He spoke again.

  “I need you to get in the car with me. You’re not under arrest at the moment but we need to get some statements from you down at the station.”

  My heart pounded as I walked with him.

  The ride was silent; I tried to talk but he cut me off. His tone changed drastically, taking me by surprise.

  “Just stop talking. I was trying to keep this operation running smoothly and you just decided to fuck it all up.”

  I noticed we were driving further away from the city.

  “Your friend told you too much.”

  “What?” I said in confusion.

  He snapped at me. “I told you to be quiet. But you were too curious—decided to do some of your own investigating, didn’t you? Jimmy, the ranger, told me what he could before he died. I could barely make out what he was telling me.”

  My adrenaline returned. I looked to the door handles, but knew they wouldn’t open.

  “You must have got him good. Was only conscious for a few minutes. Good riddance though, he was getting too soft. The rest of us were worried he might start talking. Said he didn't want to do this much longer.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “You killed Dylan didn’t you, and set up the scarecrows.”

  He laughed, “Hahaha, well I didn’t kill your friend. I just help facilitate the deeds that must be done. We supply a food source to keep civilians safe.”

  “What the hell are you talking about!?” I demanded.

  “Well she has to eat something! You don't want her coming down from the mountain, do you? Can’t get rid of her either. Sacrifices must be made to ensure that the majority survive. You might call me a murderer, but I don’t see it that way.”

  I froze as he continued, trying to make sense of what I was hearing.

  “She’s been eating more than usual. That's why we have a nice pile of meat down in that cellar. Homeless people, mostly. But I can't help it if she wants to pick off some lone campers.”

  “You’re insane! What are you feeding people to?” I said. I reached towards my pocket, only to realize he still had my phone.

  He laughed again.

  “I can't have you running around telling the media. Could you imagine the chaos this would bring? All the victim’s families wanting justice? Exposure and rock climbing accidents make much more sense.”

  I listened in horror.

  We had been driving a while. I could tell we were getting close to the trail. A camper, walking a brown dog alongside the road, waved to us as we passed. I wished there was some way to tell him I was in danger. We continued the drive in silence. I was trying to comprehend the situation. When we got to the trail head, the officer parked the cruiser and got out. He drew his pistol, opened my door, and motioned for me to start walking.

  The walk up the mountain was slow as he limped behind me.

  “I’ll tell you where to go. If you try anything, I’ll put a bullet in your head and throw you in that cellar with the others.”

  I quietly obeyed.

  It was a long and silent walk up the trail. The cold air stung my face as we trekked along. Even in my panicked state, I knew we were in the same area as the cellar.

  Finally, I spoke up. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Her,” he responded nonchalantly.

  “What’s her?” I asked.

  “Not sure,” he said in an annoyed tone.

  I sighed. “If you’re going to kill me, at least tell me what place we’re going to.”

  “I can’t tell you, because I don't know what she is. Clawed her way here from Hell is my guess,“ the officer snapped.

  My legs grew weaker. I didn’t ask any more questions. The sun was starting to set. The only sounds were the crunching of leaves and snaps of twigs beneath our feet. We took countless turns. The trail had turned to dense woods and uneven ground. I wa
s exhausted.

  I felt the officers pistol press against my back as he spoke, “Getting close. I'm glad I didn't have to drag your corpse all the way up here, hahaha.”

  I had already lost all track of time. What seemed like hours of hiking, finally ended. We stopped in front of a small pond, perfectly round. Something was wrong though. The water was black, and a thick layer of fog clouded the surface. It should have been frozen in this cold. Peeking just above the haze, I could see the heads of a hundred scarecrows lining the pond’s perimeter. All were facing me—as though they had been waiting.

  The officer began to speak again as he started building a fire.

  “The routine started to wear on us. It was always the same: get the bodies, throw them in the cellar, write a bogus police report, contact the families. It got…stale. And she got tired of the easy meals. So we got a little more creative. Get the camper scared, get them moving in this direction. Let it hunt. It likes the trophies.” He pointed lazily to the scarecrows. “When I saw your buddy’s phone, I took it upon myself to get you down here. I thought it would be more of a challenge, but you basically turned yourself in.”

  I felt myself becoming more nauseous as I recalled the events that led me here.

  Night fell, and the black pond began to stir.

  “Won’t she kill you too?” I asked.

  “Likes ‘em one at a time, whatever she can get to first,” he responded.

  I didn’t want to know just how many cops and rangers were a part of this. I considered making a break for it, but I knew I would be gunned down. The officer kept his distance, with his gun pointed at me. He motioned for me to move closer to the pond. I hesitantly crept forward.

  “Stand there, that's where I put her food.”

  The water began to churn as it surfaced. Black ripples formed small waves that splashed against the pond’s edge. Its dark matted hair was the first feature to break the surface. I immediately smelled its damp, rotten flesh. I was frozen with fear as it moved in my direction and continued to ascend from the dark pool. I cannot fully describe what I saw. The hellish figure had risen from the inky depths and moved closer. It had a tall, thin, form with long hair descending from its skeletal head to the middle of its gaunt humanoid body.

  In that moment I was sure of one thing—the creature did not belong on this Earth. As it moved closer, I found my body paralyzed with fear. I studied its face, and its hollow black eyes were a crude emulation of the scarecrow’s.

  I heard something behind me—the shuffling of leaves and a man’s voice yelling in the distance. I turned around, only to see a large brown dog dragging a broken leash behind it. The canine walked cautiously as it eyed the officer and I with curious skepticism. A beam of light flashed before us, and a man carrying the other end of the leash appeared. The same man I had seen earlier on the road.

  The man spoke. “Sorry guys…I’ve been chasing my dog forever. He broke off and started following your scent. Is uhh—?”

  He saw it.

  “What the… Wha…?”

  I took advantage of the moment.

  My survival instincts kicked in. The officer was distracted for only a few seconds, and I started running fast as I could, only to be outpaced by the frightened dog. I heard the first bullet fly by my ear. The second shot came soon after. I’ll never forget the camper’s scream as the bullet pierced his body. His agonizing voice echoed throughout the mountains. I never actually heard his screaming stop, it only grew quieter as I ran farther away from the pond.

  I ran for hours, fueled by adrenaline and survival. I knew the officer couldn’t keep up with me, and he had to make sure his new witness could not escape.

  Eventually, I will attempt to work with the true authorities after I figure out how to tell them what I have seen without sounding insane. Right now I am trying to forget the sound of the man’s screams, and the snapping of his bones.

  Project Erebus

  Project Erebus is the official name—and I believe it is the public’s right to know of the creature that has entered our world.

  My team and I do not have a title, but I would refer to us as “government contractors.” Our primary objective is to study unexplainable phenomena and report back to the federal government. We set up wherever we are needed.

  Our team currently resides inside an underground bunker just outside of Yellowstone National Park. You can search all you want, but I guarantee you will not be able to locate it. And it’s better that you do not.

  The location of the creature was discovered one year ago by local hikers—a young married couple. Their names have been removed from all public records. Since then, the government’s focus has been on reinforcing the underground facility, containment of the creature, and studying it as much as possible.

  The two hikers were led to the dwelling when they followed a trail of animal carcasses. The trail stretched several hundred yards and eventually led to a cave opening between two large pine trees. The hole was described as a perfect circle about ten feet in diameter.

  The discovery was reported when the husband made a distress call to local park rangers. His wife claimed she smelled “the sweetest aroma” coming from inside the subterranean lair. As the husband attempted to remove her from the area, she reportedly become “violent and hysteric.” Escaping from his grip, she sprinted to the hole, turned to smile at her partner, and gracefully fell backwards into the darkness of the cave.

  The husband reportedly ran forward and heard his wife’s body hit the cave floor after a few moments. It was a forty-foot drop from the cave’s opening. The husband stated he heard the sound of hoarse laughter coming from the cave below. The woman’s remains were never located.

  When the feds were notified, we were called in to help with containment. We received an initial briefing that identified a horrifying creature dwelling in the cave. Thus began construction of the bunker and containment process.

  The “creature” we have been dealing with is far more sinister in nature than anything I have ever seen or studied. My one solid conclusion is that the being is otherworldly. Whatever it is, it is invisible to all video recordings. Both digital and film. The live footage shows the cave as completely empty, and all recorded files are corrupted. We are unable to study it from a distance.

  Containing the beast was nearly impossible. We eventually trapped it by sealing the entrance the aforementioned hiker fell in. Our team then drilled our own opening, and barricade it with a steel blast door.

  There are only a few humans who have seen it with the naked eye. A retired captain known as Walsh was the first. It was my first day on project Erebus when we lost him. Equipped with his 9 mm sidearm, Walsh entered the cave around 6 a.m. on Monday morning, and the massive steel door was quickly shut behind him.

  He immediately began to complain of the heat, claiming the temperature was unbearable. The facilities thermometer showed the cave at only 55 F. His complaints of the heat were followed by several minutes of silence.

  Walsh’s voice boomed out of the intercom speakers. “Let. Us. Out. How can you people be so blind?”

  Looking at the monitor, we saw nothing but an empty cave. But Walsh could obviously see something. We spoke into the receiver.

  “Walsh, what is it? Tell us what you see.”

  He hissed a response, “Worthless swine, all of you. Let. Us. Out.”

  Our team looked around in a state of confusion and panic.

  Walsh was staring directly at the center of the cave as interior lights rapidly strobed. For a moment, the creature showed itself for the first time on film. I saw the outline of a dark, humanoid being sitting on the ground, cross-legged with one hand in the air, and the other resting at its side in the Baphomet pose.

  Walsh began to move out of frame, back towards the entrance. The video feed cut out. Rapid whispers came through the speakers and sounded like a hundred voices in unison.

  Our team sat in silence, waiting fo
r something, anything. The silence was interrupted by three loud knocks from the other side of the steel blast door.

  Our defense unit got into position, rifles aimed at the doors as it was opened. To our relief, a seemingly unharmed Walsh crossed the threshold and stood in the open doorway.

  Our relief turned to horror.

  It was his eyes. I can still picture them—the image forever burned in my mind. His eyes were a blank canvas of white—absent of irises and pupils. Two steady streams of blood ran from his tear ducts down his cheeks, creating two crimson puddles on the stone floor.

  He just stood there, silent and unblinking. We were shocked, unsure of what to do or say.

  He broke the silence again. “It can smell us… It’s... hungry,” he said in a whisper as he raised the pistol to his temple.

  It wasn’t the shot that frightened me the most, or the explosion of gore that painted the walls behind him. What horrified me the most was the massive, jet black, three-fingered hand that pulled Walsh’s lifeless corpse back into the cave, just before the blast door was slammed shut. I will never forget the sound of his tearing flesh.

  ***

  All records of Walsh were deleted. Even a personal email chain between us was erased without my consent or knowledge.

  After the incident, nobody wanted to enter the cave. Many of us, myself included, tried to abandon the project. The officials told us that leaving the site would be considered treasonous and we would regret the decision.

  The feds decided to send in one of their own. I do not know his real name, but they referred to him as “X.” He was a middle-aged, muscular man with salt-and-pepper hair. By the way he carried himself, you could tell he was in charge and not to be messed with. Someone in the room described him as “unbreakable.”

  Before he went in, we concluded that looking at the creature with the naked eye was too risky. We sent X in with carbon fiber protective glasses equipped with impenetrable plexiglass lenses.