The bird song was much softer and more cautious this time, and when I listened closely, I swear I could hear the faintest echo of human breathing.
Although I couldn't see it, the presence of the thing underneath me was still clear. I sat there, trying to collect my nerves for god knows how long. Trembling nervously, I dug my fingernails into the bark and held tight for dear life. His voice was much louder this time, as I yelled something out, and scrambled up the log a bit higher. For a long time I just sat there in absolute silence, and I was at the point where I was almost soon to convince myself that I had imagined hearing a man's voice at all. I strained to look down, but couldn't see anything over the ledge.
The voice had come from directly underneath me. I was gripped by a sudden strong surge of fear for a moment. One day I was sitting in my usual spot on the fallen tree, which was a good distance from the ground, just listening to the birds singing and simultaneously feeling the warmth of the sun on my neck, when I heard something strange from underneath that paralyzed me in shock: I was never able to make it all the way to the top because it just got too steep for me to continue any further, and I had a bad habit of freaking out from how high up I was. I loved to climb up the jagged stump at the base of this fallen tree and then steady myself to a point just above the middle. Some distance into the woods, far enough that I couldn't hear my mother when she called, there was a toppled pine tree which had crashed into another―an even larger trunk on its way down was now frozen there, forming a long arc over the forest floor. The big house had a habit of feeling incredibly lonely and sparse, so I spent most of my time playing in the forest expanse out back. Quite often, I was a fairly rambunctious child, so while my mom went off to work, I would occasionally skip the morning bus to school and stay home alone all day. It was far off the road, down a long, unlit, gravel driveway―it felt very isolated at night, being so distant from any other houses, set in an area that hadn't been inhabited for thirty years before we started living in it. We lived in a property owned by my grandma, a three story, old farmhouse right at the fringe of the woods. When I was a child, it was just me and my mother. Just thought that I'd share a couple of spooky stories from my childhood, to get everyone all hyped for Halloween. Just to make everything clear, I am not entirely the original author of this piece, just merely an anonymous editor that felt that it was his duty to share prozac101's story even further with the world. It's kind of hard for me to explain the strange feelings I got, but there was something quite different about her story, due to the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about it for days after it had been first posted on the board.
Being a daily visitor to /x/, I was one of the first people to reply to the girl's post, and I think it's best that I tell you now that I was thoroughly disturbed by what I had read, probably the most I had been in a long time. What you are about to read was posted on 4chan's paranormal /x/ board on Halloween day of 2013 by an unknown user by the name of prozac101.
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