A Talk With a Stranger in the Forest

Link to article: A Talk With a Stranger in the Forest.
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//“A Talk With a Stranger in the Forest”// by: [[*user Mew-ltiverse]]’s headmate “J”
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[http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/dr-mews-personnel-file Read more of our stuff]

⚠️ CW: Body horror, like in depth descriptions of gore

I also co-wrote [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/you-have-a-doppelgaenger this]

If this reads like a dream, I did it right.

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I find myself walking through a forest. I don’t know how I got here. The last thing I remember, I was walking home from the store. Luckily, though, it’s not too heavy. I figure that I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. I already checked the GPS on my phone, but there’s no signal. 

I don’t really get freaked out by getting lost. Every day is an adventure to me. Life has so much to offer, and is far too short to dwell on the negatives.

I figure if I walk far enough, I’ll stumble across some hikers, maybe some kids playing. As a child, I played in the woods near my house with my best friend. I chuckle. Oh, that one time I returned drenched because I fell in the river. My parents were //not// happy, but worried all the same. Moments like that are horrifying at the time, but important to me.

It’s been pretty peaceful. The weather is overcast, but it isn’t raining. Just enough so that I don’t have to deal with the sun burning a hole through my retinas. As I walk, I hear the birds chirping, I feel the gentle breeze against my cheeks. I take a breath in, then breathe out with a soft smile on my face. It’s been a bit since I’ve had the time to just take things in like this, it’s all been so hectic. Maybe life knew to just give me some time to myself like this.

As I’m walking, I notice something in the distance. It looks like some sort of building. I can’t see it very well from here. Maybe it’s a rest spot for hikers? I slowly but surely make my way to the building. The outside looks pretty rough. Ivy growing in between the wood, scratches and bites from different animals, moss coating most of the surface. The wood looks extremely weathered, like it has survived a thousand storms. Despite the worn look, there are no holes, no gaps in the wood. It doesn't look as if there are any windows, either. I begin to walk around the small building, looking for any sort of entrance, any sort of way to look inside. After a few minutes of searching, I realize that there is no door. No door and no windows. 

This strange building makes me feel odd, but I can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of this. For good measure, I run my hands over the wood again. Maybe there’s a secret entrance? A spider crawls over my hand, causing me to jump. I take a deep breath, then laugh. It’s just a spider. A spider on a weird building with no entrances. Despite my best efforts, I can’t help but feel uneasy. I shake my head. Life is an adventure. I feel like things happen for a reason, and I found this place for a reason. What that reason was, I’m unsure.

Suddenly, I feel something touch my shoulder. I practically jump out of my skin, screaming. I quickly turn around to see who— or what— had just touched me.

In front of me, is a tall man wearing a green hoodie. His hair is long and unkempt. He gives me a tired smile. His eyes are dull, as if they didn't belong to a living, breathing person. Despite the deathly look of his face, I could swear he's not much older than me.

“What are you doing here?” The man asks. His voice is low, yet a bit nasally at the same time.

I take a good look at the man. There’s blood on his hoodie.

I pay no mind to it; at least, I try not to. I don’t get scared easily. I try to speak, but I feel frozen in— fear? Is it fear? I can’t tell. The longer I look at him, the more I notice. He looks exhausted, the bags under his eyes practically black. There are bandages wrapped around his thighs, over the red and brown stained grey jeans he's wearing. The bandages look as if they are attempting to hold something together. Something about him makes me feel... an emotion I can't pinpoint.

The man lifts both of his arms. “I can tell you’re scared.” He replies. I can tell that he is trying to soften his tone, like laying a thin carpet over a pile of dirt.

I can’t help but stare at the blood. It stained the chest area and sleeves. Some of it is dark brown, as if it has been there for a long time, while some of it is a brighter red. In fact, I can smell blood in the air. Whose was it? Is it his? An animal’s? This is a foreign feeling to me. I’m terrified. I feel frozen in place. Not a single part of me wants to move. Not even my eyes move, glued to this unnerving stranger.

“Ah.” The man replies simply, his expression telling me he realizes something. He gives me a sad smile, a smile with pain hidden deep within. I feel a pit in my chest just witnessing it.

He removes his hoodie. Beneath is a white t-shirt stained in blood. His arms are adorned by bloodied bandages that have begun to rot into his skin, the fabric blending into his wrists. Bits of white pus peak out from beneath the bandages, mixing with the flesh and blood. He lifts up the shirt, the fabric of the shirt sticking to his skin, making a wet ripping sound. Bits of necrotic flesh stuck to the fabric as he lifted it. In place of where his heart should be, is an empty cavity. Beginning to rot away. Some of the flesh surrounding the area is hardened and black, with other parts around it puffy and red. He looks at me, then pulls the shirt back down, letting the hoodie fall back down as well.

“The blood? It’s mine. I’ve been rotting for a long time.”

Horrifying doesn’t even begin to describe what I just witnessed. The dreadful smell, the sound of hard flesh ripping away with fabric. It was all enough to make me lightheaded. My thoughts come to a stop. I can’t articulate any of my feelings. Every time a thought comes into my head, its gone as fast as it enters.

We stare at each other for what feels like ages. Finally, I gain the courage to speak.

“What happened?” My voice shakes.

The man shakes his head. “I suppose that’s not a very good first impression.” He laughs sheepishly, sadness edging his tone. “I uh, haven’t talked to anyone in a while.”

I observe his expression. Despite his eyes showing no sign of life, I can see a hint of something deeper hidden within. I look at the ground, then back up at the man. “Why are you here?” I ask, the shakiness of my voice growing more apparent.

The man shrugs, an unreadable look coming across his face. He's silent for a few moments. His eyes wander, staring out into the distance “Once upon a time, I got lost on my way home." He pauses. The wind blows strands of his long dark hair in his face. "I’ve been here ever since.” His eyes trail back to me.

I feel my blood go cold. I am lost. I figured if I walked far enough, I’d find a way out. Is this it? Am I stuck here forever? I feel my chest tightening.  My breath begins shaking.  I still have so much to do. So much I want to accomplish. Did one stupid mistake really mean my life was over? I always try to find the best in things. If I knew that being so nonchalant would've caused me to end up here— 

I feel his hand on my shoulder again.

“Relax.” The man says to me in a calm tone. “I was... lost in a different way from you. Don’t jump to conclusions. There’s still time for you. I… can tell this isn’t like you. Don’t let me dull your spirit. That positivity, that optimism.” There's an expression on his face that I can't quite pinpoint.

I flinch. “H-How do you know that?” I stutter, growing defensive. Just who is this? Is this man even human? No, he can’t be. His body is literally rotting, yet here he is, speaking and breathing. Is he breathing? I didn't know that, actually. Is he even alive?

“When you’ve been around as long as I have, you become able to pick up on certain things.” The man replies. He sighs, looking up at the sky. “It’s gonna get dark soon. If you turn around and exit the way you came in, you’ll find your way out.”

I tightly grip the bag I've been carrying, feeling the plastic against my fingers. “I-I’m not stuck here?” I feel a lump in my throat. The idea that I’d accidentally get myself stuck here because I was too naive to panic. I want nothing but to panic now. I want to scream. None of this made sense.

We were both quiet for a moment.

I look behind me. For the first time, I realize just how big the forest is. It’s almost too big. And for the first time, I feel small. Like an ant in a movie theater.

The man puts his hands together. “You’re getting caught up. I know it seems scary. But if you dwell on your fears, you’ll get stuck inside of them. Just turn around. Don’t close your eyes.”

I firmly plant my feet against the ground, clenching my fists. “I— I believe things happen for a reason!” I exclaim. “Do you think… that this happened for a reason?” I ask, unable to mask the uncertainty in my voice.

The man gives a sad laugh. I feel a chill run down my spine. I didn't know that a simple laugh could communicate so much emotion. “Maybe for you. But for me, things don’t have a reason to happen. Things happen because that’s life. They occur whether there’s really a reason for it to happen or not. But,” He snaps his fingers. “I like your attitude. Don’t succumb to the fear you feel. Continue to be yourself, and things will solve.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“It’s getting dark. Just follow my instructions. You’ll get home.” The man insists.

I shrug, staring at the ground for a moment, staring at the dead leaves and twigs. I turn my back to the man. “Why didn’t you do it, then? If leaving was so easy?” Why is a man that's rotting from the inside trying to tell me that things get better?

The man is silent for a moment. “You’ll understand in time.”

I stay still for a few moments. Then, I begin to walk back the way that I came from, then stop, and turn back towards the man. “You should come with me. If I can leave, then so should you." I insist.

Despite his cold dead eyes, I can still sense the surprise in his expression.

“Once the rotting starts, it doesn’t stop. Get out before it does.”

I open my mouth to reply.

He’s gone. The building is gone. It’s all gone. I hesitate, then start back the way I came again. I can’t pinpoint a reason that this happened. I don't like that. I wish that I could explain. That I could figure out what all of that meant.

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I watch from afar as he exits back the way he came. He didn't even suspect, not even once. If the rotting in my chest hadn’t destroyed my ability to feel, I know that the pain would be unbearable. The fact that I've rotted past recognition, even to myself.

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A Talk With a Stranger in the Forest

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