**Content Warning:**

The following material contains mature themes, including graphic and disturbing content that may not be suitable for all audiences. Reader discretion is advised. Please be aware that the scene includes references to violence, ritualistic practices, and intense emotional distress. If you find such content triggering or uncomfortable, you may wish to skip this (recorder diary entry) section. Your well-being is important—please take care of yourself while reading.

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Dear Diary,

September 20, 2024

Autumn, my favorite season. I love the fiery reds, oranges, and yellows scattered all around. Autumn is beautiful, vibrant, and a season of embracing the fall while preparing for regeneration.

Oh, so thoughtful, aren't I?

By the way, how are you, my dear Diary?

It felt strange when you talked to me, though I loved our interaction. But after I told you about that incident, I decided to investigate. I know I remember something, but I can't quite grasp it.

I've tried to focus on my memories, but it's difficult—and you know why. I was already in a state where I felt like the "walking dead," though not a zombie. So, I decided to explore the forest, one part at a time. In the past six days, I haven't found anything unnatural—or too natural—in the general area. I haven't yet ventured into the prohibited section. What should I do? Should I trespass into the forbidden zone, or should I just ask my father directly?

Speaking of my father... well, since my mother left us, we're barely on speaking terms. We're more like two strangers living in the same house—one providing money, food, and other necessities, and the other—me—just existing.

It's really hard for me to write about these feelings, these unsettling emotions I have toward my father.

Not in a bizarre way, though. It's just that there's no fatherly affection left.

We used to have a great bond when my mother was alive. He loved her like a madman.

I think when my mother left this earth, my father's soul left with her.

And here I am, all alone.

Okay, back to the investigation. I'll be heading out tonight, and yes, you're coming with me.

But I'm not entirely alone—I have my friend Sharon with me. She's way crazier than I am, totally obsessed with ghosts, the supernatural, forest spirits, and whatnot.

So, it'll be you, me, and Sharon.

Why don't you rest here on the shelf for now?

I'll have dinner and then call her for a "buddy homework night stay." ;)

Oh, I'm slipping this map between your pages. Feel free to check it out; it's pretty cool.

Bye 😊

Love,

Maisie

⨊⨊

**Recording – Diary Entry 01 – 200924**

Hello, my Dear Diary,

This entry is a bit different—I'm recording it. It's 10:15 PM on September 20th, 2024. In my town, everyone is already asleep. Sharon and I have snuck out of the house for this bizarre adventure of ours.

We've packed a few essentials: a torch—one battery-powered and another, well, that handy one with the crank. You know, just in case the batteries die. We've got a forest map, two sandwiches, a blanket—just in case—and, most importantly, two knives. And no, these aren't butter knives; they're really sharp.

Right now, we're walking through the deserted streets of my little town.

It's eerie how different everything looks at night. When everyone is tucked away in their cozy beds, cuddling and snuggling with their families, a quaint peace lingers in the air. It's the kind of calm that soothes the soul.

From the outside, it's like an anthology with 11,000 stories running parallel to each other. Occasionally, they intersect, making brief appearances in each other's narratives, but each one remains distinct.

Hey, Sharon, slow down! Wait for me.

Sharon is a lovely girl—her bright ginger hair is wild, just like her. Her eyes are as big as a deer's, filled with curiosity. She has the soul of an angel, as if she's constantly emitting a soft glow.

After my mother left, she was the only one who looked after me at school. When I had no friends, a distant father, and was surrounded by bullies, she held my hand and walked me out of that dark time.

So, Diary, you better be respectful to her.

Okay, we've reached the entrance to the forbidden area.

I'm turning on the torch. Let's just do this.

We've stepped into the area.

There...

*the sound becomes muffled as the recorder is tucked into her pocket*

*Heavy Panting*

Okay... I—I've seen something I wasn't supposed to see. I'm standing right here, at that very spot. There are a lot of people—adults, and they're from my town. We are hiding in the bushes, and there's a clearing in the middle of the forest.

There's a pit of fire, and most of the adults from my town are standing in a circle around it. They're mostly men. Yes, all men.

Oh no, no, no... What are they doing?

*Recorder picks up the sound of drumbeats, thumping rhythmically in the background.*

What is this?

No, please don't! I'm not a pawn of the devil! They were photo-shopped! Please, forgive me!

Did you hear that? The cry of a woman. It's her—it's Elisabythe. Oh no, no, no... What are they going to do to her?

Oh Jesus, have mercy on these people...

*The chanting grows louder, a chorus of voices, eerie and unified.*

Burn! Burn! Burn!

Now they're singing. What's happened to them? These are the people who are supposed to protect us! What are they doing?

Father! How? Why? Was he...?

Burn! Burn! Burn!

Tie her hands

Let the Virgin fire

Purify her

Burn! Burn! Burn!

Tape her mouth

Don't let her call

The devil

Let the Virgin fire

Purify her

Burn! Burn! Burn!

Oh God! No—no! We have to go, now. Sh—Sharon, we have to leave!

I'll write everything down once I'm back at... at his house. Not mine. My father's house.

I HATE HIM.

I LOATHE HIM

<a/n>

This might seem a bit strange, but please remember it's just a story. If anything upsets you, I'm sorry in advance. There are some intense parts, so thanks for sticking with it.