“Yo! Damien, over here! I think I found something!”

The floor groaned beneath Damien’s boots as he rushed across the warped boards of the ancient treehouse, each creak louder than the last, like a warning. Dust hung thick in the air, stirred by their movement, catching the pale shafts of light that filtered through the moss-covered windows. The whole place smelled of rot and time,wet wood, old leaves, and something metallic.

The other man stood hunched over a battered desk, his fingers brushing away cobwebs and debris from a leather-bound book, its cracked cover barely holding together.

“It looks like a diary or maybe a logbook. Man… if this is real, if it’s legit,we’re gonna be rich.”

Damien leaned in, his heart quickening. The leather was dark, worn soft with age, the edges scorched like it had survived a fire. Faint, almost ghostly writing was etched into the front.

Founder’s Logbook

He looked up, met his friend’s wide-eyed stare. For a moment, neither of them said a word.

“You think this is The Founder’s logbook?” Damien whispered, his voice barely audible.

A beat of silence passed,then they both nodded in unison, the weight of the discovery settling in.

“We have to read this,” the other man murmured.

Outside, the wind picked up, making the old treehouse groan again, like it knew secrets were about to be unearthed.

[DAY 1]

I don’t know where I am. I don’t know how I got here. All I have is this book… and the fire crackling beside me, offering the only sense of comfort in a place that feels utterly foreign.

I guess I’ll start with the moment I woke up.

A chorus of birdsong echoed through the trees, tangled with the soft drone of insects. My head pulsed with a dull, relentless ache, like my skull was caught in a slow vice. The earthy scent of damp moss, crushed grass, and sharp pollen filled my lungs with every breath, familiar yet strangely distant.

I couldn’t remember a thing.

My eyelids felt like they were glued shut, and when I finally forced them open, blinding sunlight poured through the canopy and stabbed into my skull. I recoiled, groaning, hands instinctively clutching my temples. Warmth radiated across my skin, and the air was thick, heavy with moisture.

I pushed myself upright, my movements sluggish and shaky. The world spun for a moment before settling into place. All around me, the forest loomed, tall, ancient trees draped in vines, their leaves whispering above like they were watching.

There was something unsettling about the quiet beneath the sound. Like the forest was holding its breath.

It was dense. It was eerie.

It was beautiful.

Animals, no, creatures ,moved through the underbrush, weaving between the trees like living shadows. Shapes flickered in the corners of my vision, each one strangely familiar… yet unmistakably wrong. Like something had reached into my memory and twisted what I knew.

One of them stepped into view.

I couldn’t move.

It approached slowly, silently,its body lean, all sinew and grace, but undeniably powerful. Its coat shimmered in dappled sunlight, a rich, earthy brown almost matching my own skin, mottled with soft white spots like scattered stars. From either side of its head, gnarled, bone-like structures stretched outward. They looked like branches, bleached and weathered, growing from its skull like the forest itself had claimed it.

The name for what it resembled danced at the edge of my mind, so close I could taste it, but it kept slipping away. 

It lowered its head, breath warm and damp against my cheek as it leaned in, nostrils flaring inches from my face. Its eyes held something ancient,curious, but cautious. Then, a sudden snap echoed through the trees. A deeper, heavier sound. Something much larger.

The creature jerked back, muscles tensing. In a flash, it vanished into the brush,gone like it had never been there.

And just like that, the forest seemed darker.

I didn’t want to find out what made that noise.

After a long moment, I forced myself to stand. My legs shook beneath me, brittle and unreliable. It was like my body had forgotten itself,every step a battle between will and weakness. I nearly collapsed twice before I steadied my breath and pushed through, whispering whatever scraps of encouragement I could muster.

One step. Then another.

I didn’t know where I was going. But I knew I couldn’t stay here.

Branches cracked beneath my feet, twigs splintering like brittle bones as I stumbled through the undergrowth. Each step felt like an intrusion, a reminder that I didn’t belong here,not just in this forest, but… wherever here even was.

The air was thick with the scent of earth and decay, but every now and then, a breeze carried something sweeter, wildflowers, maybe. Or a memory.

I didn’t know what I was looking for. Survival, maybe. Answers, eventually. But for now, just something.

I crouched low near a bush heavy with berries, their skin dark and glossy. I had no way of knowing if they were safe, but hunger didn’t leave much room for caution. The juice burst across my tongue, tart and sharp, and as it slid down my throat, it was like plunging into a cold, clear stream. I could almost feel my body respond,cells awakening, the ache in my limbs fading just a little. Enough to keep going.

The forest pressed in from all sides, towering trees blocking out the sun in places, roots like twisted veins underfoot. My bare feet were starting to give out,raw, bruised, the skin scraped and tender from every uneven surface I crossed. Every step was a wince. Every step was pain.

But then, something new.

A sound, distant at first. Gentle. Persistent.

Rushing water.

My heart jolted. I paused, tilted my head toward the noise as hope stirred like embers in my chest. The ache in my feet vanished beneath a surge of adrenaline. I didn’t think. I just moved.

A second wind surged through me like a storm in my chest. My body, moments ago on the brink of collapse, now moved with a kind of desperate grace. I sprinted through the trees, weaving between trunks, leaping over fallen logs, ducking beneath low-hanging branches that clawed at my skin. The forest blurred around me, a rush of green and shadow.

Then, light.

I burst into an open clearing, skidding over a bed of cold, smooth stones that shocked the soles of my feet. Before me, the water flowed, clear and alive, carving its path through the wild in a ribbon of crystalline blue. It shimmered under the sun, so pure I could almost see visions within it, reflections of things I couldn’t name. Or maybe remember.

I dropped to my knees at the riverbank, cupped my hands, and flung handfuls of the icy water onto my face. It stung in the best way, numbing the heat from my skin and jolting my senses awake.

And then, movement.

Beneath the glassy surface, silver shapes darted like flickers of light.

Fish.

I think that’s what they’re called… right? The word echoed in my head like a memory from someone else. Where did I learn that? Who taught me?

It didn’t matter. My stomach reminded me I needed more than berries,I needed something real. Something alive.

I crouched low, breath steadying, my body still for the first time since I woke. The fish drifted lazily now, unaware of the predator above.

I struck.

Water splashed upward in a violent arc as I lunged, my fingers wrapping around slick, writhing flesh. It was heavier than I expected, its scales like wet stone in my grip.

Was it large… or was I just small?

It thrashed in my hands, slick and desperate, but I held it firm,fingers digging in, muscles locked. In that moment, something ancient stirred inside me. Something wild. I had felt it building as I raced toward the river, like a heat just beneath the surface… and now it broke free.

Before I could think, before I could reason, I sank my teeth into the fish’s body.

The taste hit instantly, metallic, cold, alive. It kicked once, then again, weaker each time until the life drained from it completely. My jaw tightened. My breath came heavy. Blood mixed with water ran down my chin, warm against the cool air.

I tore into it.

The sound of flesh ripping filled the quiet between heartbeats. My body moved on instinct, primal and unfiltered, stripping the fish down to the bone with a hunger that wasn’t just about food,it was survival, yes, but something deeper too.

When it was over, I sat back on my knees, gasping, the remnants of the fish in my hands. My reflection wavered in the river before me, lips stained crimson, eyes wide, expression unreadable.

And yet… I didn’t feel guilt.

I felt satisfied.

A sudden splash broke the silence downstream. Then another. A whole school of fish surged through the current, darting past in a frantic blur. Dozens of them, maybe more,all rushing in the same direction.

Away from something.

The water trembled with their panic, their flight.

I froze.

Something was coming.

Then I heard it.

A growl, low, guttural, and deep enough to make the earth beneath me tremble. It rumbled through my bones like thunder in my chest. My breath hitched. My body froze.

And then… I saw it.

It moved through the trees on all fours, an impossible mass of muscle and shadow. Its form blurred against the forest’s twilight, but the sheer size was undeniable,easily three times my height, maybe more. It had the weight of four of me, maybe five, packed into something that shouldn’t be able to move as fast as it did. One of its paws slammed into the ground, shaking the forest floor,each one the size of my entire torso.

The moment our eyes met,if it had eyes,I felt electricity shoot through my spine. My legs moved before I even knew what was happening.

I ran.

Branches clawed at my skin as I tore through the forest, breath ragged, vision tunneled. The only thing I knew was that I had to keep moving. The beast thundered behind me, snapping saplings like twigs, its roars shattering the air.

I wasn’t just running from a creature.

I was running from death itself.

The forest reacted in chaos,creatures screeched and bolted in every direction, the underbrush exploding with movement as nature itself seemed to flee. Leaves spiraled through the air. Shadows scattered. Even the trees seemed to shrink back.

I didn’t think. I leapt.

A ledge opened beneath me and I dropped down, slamming into the earth and rolling against a rocky wall. My side burned, but I didn’t stop. I pressed against the stone, heart hammering, trying to shrink into nothing.

Then, salvation.

A hollowed log, wide enough to crawl into. Without thinking, I scrambled inside, curling tight, pressing my body into the wet, rotting wood. I held my breath. Time lost all shape.

Outside, the forest slowly quieted, save for the fading echo of destruction.

I don’t know how long I stayed like that. Long enough for the light to shift. The sky, once gold, began to bleed into violet and deep blue.

Eventually, I shifted,my body aching from stillness, my skin crawling from the damp bark. I rolled onto my side, trying to get more comfortable.

That’s when I saw it.

Lying across from me, inches away, bones grayed with time, a skeleton.

Roughly the same size as me.

Curled just like I was.

The skeleton was old,its bones sun-bleached and brittle, curled in the exact position I had been. A quiet mirror. Whoever they were… they died hiding. Just like I could have.

Bandages clung to its limbs, frayed and stiff with age. Beside its hip rested a small book, its cover worn smooth by time and touch. I didn’t hesitate. I took them both.

The bandages were stiff, but they held. I wrapped them tight around my bruised feet and torn legs, hissing as the fabric scraped over raw skin. Relief came slow, but it came. Enough to breathe.

Above me, nestled high in the twisted branches, a bird stared down. But like everything else in this strange place, something about it was… wrong.

Its feathers were a glossy black, but smoke curled slowly from its open beak. It tilted its head, almost curious, and picked up a twig in its claws. Without a sound, the twig snapped,and immediately caught fire. A small flame danced briefly before the twig dropped, falling toward the forest floor.

The fire fizzled out just before it touched the ground.

I waited.

Then I acted.

I lunged forward, snatching one of the smoldering twigs mid-fall. My fingers stung from the heat, but I didn’t let go. I shoved it into a pile of dry leaves and dead moss. It smoked, sizzled,

Then caught.

Flames rose, small and fragile, but real. Warmth spilled against my skin, golden and alive in the growing dark.

I sat close, hands outstretched, letting the fire chase the cold from my bones. For a moment, everything slowed. No beasts. No chase. Just breath and flickering light.

Then I opened the book.

The pages inside were mostly empty. Waiting. So I did what felt right.

I started writing.

[DAY 1]