Don't Tell The Tale

My name is Ivan Orno. I’m a 19 year old college student with my studies being in the field of report media. As a final project to cap off the year my class was assigned to do an out of state interview with a person of our choosing. If you could not get out of state within the 6 month time period the teacher allowed then you were to do an alternative assignment of which I don’t remember. Luck fully I was able to travel to an out of state area though I was limited to where I could go, North Carolina. On account of my father’s business trip which he allowed me to come.

I knew from the beginning that I wanted to do an interview with someone who has had a person gone missing in their life and who hadn't been found. Missing people reports, especially ones where the person was never found, always fascinated me. Though I never could explain why. I decided to do my interview with Macy Arcpo a local of a small town in North Carolina. Here is what I remember from the experience.

Ivan: “Hello Mrs. Arcpo, I was wondering about your experience with people going missing.”

Macy: “It's been three years since my husband disappeared. Seven since my son disappeared. This plague of losing the ones I love has seemingly haunted me forever. I frequently formed search parties to try and find them but nothing, not even a clue ever came up.”

Ivan: “Really? Nothing? Not a piece of cloth or a DNA sample?”

Macy: “Nothing I want to talk about.”

At this point I had already hit a dead end, evidence is crucial and she wasn't willing to share. So I packed up my things and wished her a good day before leaving and letting out my frustrations at the hotel room that me and my father were staying in. Two days had gone by and I was still frustrated at the time wasted and I was reluctant to get into my father’s car to drive all the way home back in Florida.

That's when I got the notification. Macy had sent me an email, I was aware of this because of the vibrations of my phone which my email is linked up to. The email read “Dear Mr. Orno i'm terribly sorry about how I acted. It was terribly rude especially since you came all this way, I’m more willing to share now. It would be best for me to get it off my chest. I have to tell the story sometime. Sincerely, Macy Arcpo”

Quickly I showed the email to my father and begged him to let me go. After an argument which involved some strong language he agreed and gave me the keys to the car as he went to go rent one more hotel room for the night.

Ivan: “Mrs. Arcpo please tell me the story you mentioned in your email.”

Macy: “...”

Ivan: “Mrs. Arcpo?”

Macy: “Sorry I...I was lost in thought.”

Ivan: “It’s alright, take as much time as you need.”

Macy: “It was December 31st, A year after my son disappeared and when my husband was still with me. I remember crying as I held his favorite teddy bear, praying that he’d come back when suddenly my husband walked in the room. Dressed in his coat and snow boots. I remember he mumbled something about going to look for our son in the forest before walking out. I was to weak from mourning to stop him so I just sobbed more.”

Ivan: “Is that when your husband disappeared?”

Macy: “No. He came back the morning later. His coat ripped and slashed, his boots looked like they had been torn up by a dog. He was covered in dirt, head from toe and he walked with a horrible limp.”

Ivan: “Oh my. I...Im so sorry.”

Macy: “He wouldn't eat or speak. The most he would do was faintly and incoherently mumble to himself and stare into the distance.”

Ivan: “Oh lord. What happened to him?”

Macy: “I don't know it took him a month to start speaking again and even then he would barely talk, let alone about what had happened.” Ivan: “Then, if you don’t mind me asking, how did he disappear?”

Macy: ” April 11th, 3 years ago, he suddenly stood from the dinner table and requested to speak to me in the bedroom. I did as he asked and went to the room, sitting down on the bed. He then told me what he had saw but left out the details about what happened to him.”

Ivan: “What did he tell you?”

Macy: “He told me not to tell anyone, not a single soul.”

Ivan: “Please Mrs. Arcpo. I need to know, not even for my project anymore but I want to know what happened, the full story. Please.”

Macy: “I’m sorry Ivan but I can’t tell you. I hope I gave you enough for your project.”

And with that I was at another dead end. At least this time I had gotten enough information to do my project. Which I had gotten a 100 on but that cliffhanger that she had left me on was clawing, gnawing at my soul. Years passed but soon I would know the ending.

Recently, about a day or two ago I received an email from Mrs. Arcpo. 5 years after the first interview. The email read

“Dear Mr. Orno. I had left something...disturbing...out of our interview all those years ago but...I can’t take it anymore. I have to tell you. After my husband had told me the story he stumbled out of the house laughing like a maniac. I watched as he wandered into the forest, never to be seen again. I wake up in cold sweats, his laughter echoing in my head, bouncing off the walls of my skull. He told me that he found our son or what remained. Bones he said. Bones with flesh still clinging to them. He said the whole forest smelled like death and when he breathed through his mouth to try and escape the stench it only made it worse. He said he could taste the rotting flesh in his mouth. It being repulsive, disgusting, but yet...he said he enjoyed it in a sick way. He said that..It..came to him. A tall, shadow like creature with arms that could spread across the whole forest. A demented, twisted, broken smile with a long, winding neck that stretched and stretched. He said that it approached him like a mother would approach a frightened child. Oddly he said he wasn't scared of It. He said that It told him what had happened to our boy and that It had taken him away from the cruel truth before it unleashed a hellish laugh you could only find in your nightmares. He said that it bent down and whispered something but he couldn't understand it, he said that’s all he remembered. After he returned that morning he would wake up screaming in the middle of the night, thrashing and yelling, crying, like a small child that had a nightmare. After he told me the story he said to never tell anyone, not a single soul. He said he was sorry and that he had to be delivered from the cruel truth and now I have to be delivered.”

The last line shocked me, disturbed me. What did it mean and what was It? After being on edge for a bit I calmed down. Writing it off as a joke or something. That was until I found out Macy had disappeared, last seen laughing as she stumbled into the forest.

I'm sorry but I had to be delivered from the cruel truth. Don’t tell the tale.