Chapter Two
Friday June 14th, 1932
Hello, I'm Raymond Williams. I don't know why I'm introducing myself again since it appears that I've already done so, but the thing is, I don't remember it. In fact I have no memory of starting this journal at all. I found it on my desk with my name on it and after looking through, I decided I should just continue anyway. Though, when looking through, I noticed that the name Baren kept showing up, but I don't know who that is. According to my past entries, he used to be an employee at the newspaper company I work at. I asked around at work, but no one seems to remember him either. Something suspicious is going on and I aim to find out what. My past entries state that Baron lives in a poor town named Echo Creek. I've never heard of the place before, but apparently there is a dirt road visible from my office window that leads there. I will start my investigation there tomorrow.
Saturday June 15th, 1932
This morning during work I made sure to look out my office window in search of the dirt path, and sure enough I saw something that resembled one. While I was looking, Vincint walked in to deliver the daily report. Suddenly I had a weird feeling of deja vu. Then I remembered that my journal had said that a few days ago Vincint had come into my office and we had a similar interaction, though this time he didn't say anything and tried to leave quickly. I also remembered that it said Vincint had mentioned that he was from Echo Creek. As he was walking out the door I asked him about it and he stopped walking for a second. He appeared to be rather distressed briefly before quickly saying that he had no idea what Echo Creek was and rushed out of the room, closing the door behind him.
I decided that during my lunch break would be a good time to check out the dirt road, so I managed to sneak out of the building in order to do so. It was easier than expected since the secretary was distracted by a book she was reading. When I got there, the path was blocked and there was a construction worker standing next to it, getting ready to leave. I asked about it and he said that I must be new in town since the dirt road hasn't been used for decades, but people would still walk along it occasionally. A tree had fallen and blocked the road, and he was just finishing putting up some barricades to prevent people from walking on the path. I guess I'll have to explore it tomorrow night, on my day off.
Sunday June 16th, 1932
It was chilly out tonight so I put on my coat before leaving to investigate the dirt road. The streets were empty and my shoes made a small splash sound when colliding with the wet pavement of the sidewalk from last night's rain storm. Eventually I got to the abandoned dirt path and climbed over the barriers, with my journal nearly falling out of my coat pocket. The path was long, very long. I've probably had to walk for an hour or two in the dark, eri woods, with only my lantern and the glow of the moon to lead the way. Eventually I came to a large clearing, with the only things in it being an old, cracked and clearly broken stone fountain and the very little remnants of a few wooden buildings that were reduced to a small pile of rubble here or there. Other than that it was completely empty. I walked over to the fountain and noticed something on the ground next to it. It was a newspaper ripped right down the middle. I picked up one half but the other blew away in the wind before I could get to it. It was dusty, the paper had yellowed and the only words remaining on the front page were " -Killed by Local Cryptid ". This seems important, so I'll leave it in my journal for now.
Monday June 17th, 1932
This morning I decided to look over the torn newspaper I had found last night. It detailed the death of a man named Brandy whose body was found in the forest. It also mentioned something about a 4ft crow. I noticed a large black feather sticking out of the earlier entries in my journal, my brain making a connection but to nothing in specific. I also noticed my company's signature in the corner of the newspaper, which meant we were the ones who printed it. But I don't remember anything about it. I thought that maybe someone had gone through with printing it without my permission, so I asked around at work. But everyone else says that we've never printed a story like that. There must be more to this puzzle, I just have to find the pieces.
Tuesday June 18th, 1932
It's night again, and I decided that there would have to be something else in the clearing where I found the newspaper, so I'm setting out now. After walking down the dirt path once again and began looking around the debri for anything that might be helpful. It took a while, but I eventually found one thing. A metal plaque that looked like it would be in a museum describing an artifact. It said, " In 1915, June 13th the Town of Echo Creek was founded. Legend has it that the town was built using the trees that housed the local cryptid known as the four foot tall crow and that the town has been cursed ever since. It is said that the four foot tall crow appears every June 13th on the town's anniversary to bring great misfortune." I think I figured out what's going on, or at least I have a theory. Suddenly I hear a loud cawing from behind me. I turned around startled, but was relieved to see that it was just a crow. Or at least that's what I thought it was. It started moving closer and I could tell it wasn't a normal crow. I suddenly felt a feeling of impending doom, and somehow knew that I should get out of there immediately. I bolted down the dirt path and didn't stop until I was close enough to my apartment. I took a quick stop on a bench to write this entry, but I will probably get to my apartment as soon as I finish this.
Wednesday June 19th, 1932
Midnight
It's looking at me. Right now as i'm writing this it's looking at me. The large crow from a few hours ago. Its head filling my open window with its beak poking into the apartment. Its cold, black, dead eyes look hollow. Like there's not a shred of life in its entire being, yet its stare still pierces right through me. It remains still, other than its occasional twitching and contorting, its eyes still, always remain on me. Oh god, is this even real. I feel like I'm in a nightmare. It twitches more and starts to move its head further into my apartment. I need to get out of here. And there is only one place I can think of to go to.