The Journal of Jackson Meriwether

They are just apes. Anything that appears supernatural is just a lack of understanding. But I have seen things, unrelated to these apes but they only happen in their presence. Footsteps in the hall, voices, lights in the woods. But I have to remind myself the human brain is faulty, and fear makes us unreliable witnesses.

After years of watching them, I've realized they don't have eyeshine like a deer or even the lion. I can see the red glow of their eyes without a light source to reflect them. Also, they are quiet. Watching them run through the thick brush and trees, you would be forgiven for thinking they could pass through solid objects.

When you see one, you don't see the other three. They never travel alone, but you rarely see the whole group. Today, I went out in the evening to leave a bag of apples, so I could take pictures and video from behind another deadfall. I gave up on camera traps, they can smell them and never come near. When one snuck out from the brush, I raised my camera to take a picture. When the camera focused, I could see the animal looking at me. Directly at me.

This one appeared to have a scar on its face. I've seen it around a lot lately.

The buzzing started then. Like a mosquito on high volume, until I couldn't string together a thought. If you asked me my name, I could only sit there slack jawed. When the buzzing stopped, the animal was gone. So were the apples. The head of their group, a massive but gentle creature I'd dubbed Old Man, hasn't been around. There's another now, the one with the scars. He's shorter than the rest, much leaner. He seems to be taking charge and the creatures are more skittish than ever.

I'm going to call him Leader.