Last Witness

[Notes found in an abandoned cabin in the Appalachian Mountains] [Day 1] Something moves... between the birches at dusk I've seen the marks it leaves in the mud by the creek Too big for bear tracks... [Day 2] The dogs won't go near the ridge anymore They whine and scratch at the door at night. [Day 3] Their howling... Oh god... Their howling... [Day 7] I built it a thing from sticks mud and stones... Left venison on the stump where the old trail forks, Three nights now, untouched... The meat just sits there Rotting on the stump... It likes the smell... [Day 9] Pastor Williams didn't show for Sunday service [Day 10] The Hendersons' cabin sits dark... No smoke... [Day 14] I carved a shape into the door of the barn... My hands moving on their own... They know what to do. [Day 21] The mountain is waking, The mountain is hungry... I am listening... [Day 22] Made seven more figures in the clearing... Circled them in ash and bone meal, A gift, my offering... [Day 24] Even when I sleep I'm weaving... When I wake... I carve... [Day 29] The town is quiet now... So quiet... Eighteen houses... Empty... The offerings remain untaken but I know I know it sees them! It sees me! [Day 30] Every. Single. One. Gone. Absent. It saved me for last... The last to behold... Its glory. I am the last witness I am... I am... The kept one. [Day 31] It comes for me... It lets me gaze upon it... Ribs I can count, skin hangs like leaves on a tree... Mouth that unhooks at the jaw... Bones outside... The shape I carved was wrong.. My... shape is wrong... It knows I tried... The mountains have opened What looks back is older than stone I am seen I am known I am... the last... to witness... its majesty...