Down the Wabbit Hole

The Entity of the Bog: Part 1

                A dream I had from a time ago, but I documented it for later use.

The dream begins with a friend of mine, my father, and I on a small boat. We were heading to a little reserve, deep into a remote bog for a vacation (God knows why we chose this spot). We make it to our shack of a hotel and nestle in for the night. Things already begin to turn strange the following morning, my father woke up too dizzy to walk and a thick fog creeped low to the ground. My friend and I shook it off as bad luck and ventured into the bog on a tiny boat the reserve lent us. We were chatting and observing the scenery when we heard frantic splashing sounds coming from behind us. We stopped and tried to find the source of the noise, but the fog had closed thick around us and we couldn’t see anything. Our instincts told us to leave the area as quick as we could. We returned home late in the night.

  During the night, high winds shook the hotel and made it hard to sleep. The sky was an unnatural purple color and the roaring storm served as a warning to us that the moor was not safe to stay in for much longer. The next morning, I headed up the reserve office alone. I brought up a concern about the storm last night. The woman behind the counter stared at me, puzzled. “There was no storm last night, Are you sure you didn’t dream it, Sweetheart?”. I felt like she was playing a trick on me. I assured her I didn’t dream the storm, it was all too real. Her eyes told me she still thought I was insane, but I brought up the previous day with the splashing next. Her eyes glanced to the other workers at the office, who were all now watching me. An older gentlemen speaks up. He tells me to go visit the Old Man. I learn that he lives in southern most end of the marsh. He offers to take me there, I accept.

  As the motorboat skids across the water, the man talks on his radio to the others back at the office. I can overhear the voices. They tried to contact another boat service to come and take us out of here, but all connection outside of the bog is being interrupted and all they can hear is feverish splashing sounds and static over the speakers. My hair stands on end and I can feel my heart quicken. We come upon a small building, and I am told to knock loudly and wait. I do as instructed and I hear a tiny voice tell me to come in. I look back at the man in the boat and he tells me I am going in alone, but he will wait for me until night falls. I enter the Old Man’s home.

  Inside it is warm and candle lit,almost cave like. The Old Man has fear in his eyes. He quickly tells me that he has been the guardian of the bog. There is also a demon named David who inhabits the area. David also lives in a small house in the southern end of the bog. He’ll prey on anyone he fancies, and attack the loved ones they have with them. I turn to leave as he finishes, but he calls to me with one more bit of advice, “He lives behind closed doors”.