You see a tape recorder... an old, archaic thing, lying in the ground before you. How odd... a recorder that seemingly came from nowhere. After all, such technology does not exist in such a place as the Endless Forest.

You step forward, unfamiliar with the compact, piano-black object that stares back at you, smelling of cogs and wheels and gears and foreign nonsense.

You notice the faintest speck of blood at one of the sharp corners, and you scrunch up your nose, ears flattening to back of your head.

You notice, with morbid curiosity, a series of square buttons at the bottom of it.

Raising a hoof forward, you gently tap the machine

and it's play button.







"....Zzzzz.... huhzzz... huhzzz... huhhzzzzz..."








The sound of staticy gasping.








"W-Why... Why didn't it take me... I'm the one it's followed! huhhzz... huhhzzz... That bastard... that slimy horrible bastard!"








There is a longish pause. Nothing but the grating sound of screeching air.








"It... It's at the forest with him... It has to be... That's where it goes... Oh God... Can't..."








Along with the gasping you hear the steady sound of feet beating against an unknown ground. It suddenly stops with a desperate cry








"Oh God, not there! For Christ's sake, not there!"








Something hitting the ground with a dull thud.








"Goddamn wall of trees... I... There's no way to get through..."








A frustrated cry








"N-No... got to think... have to warn... whoevers on the other side..."








More footsteps now, slower. Calmer.








"It won't come back... can't be... Still, have to record my notes... have to tell them... have to warn them... It isn't right... Need to organize my notes... I'm so sorry... if there's anyone over there... I'm so sorry..."








A hitching, grating breath. The voice quavers. Obviously crying.








"It... It killed him... Jacob..."








There is a sudden scream of anguish, a loud string of curses.








And the tape falls silent.








*click*















You search, following the scent of the off machinery... searching for more... the tape refuses to go on...

Eventually you find a lone cassette tape behind a fallen birch tree...

...

It sits within a curiously sketched symbol, carved with reddish clay and mud.