Hi, My name is Micah Park Biffle, I am the author of ' A Man's Traveled Heart,' I am a Veteran who found in understanding of my self through writing. I consider myself an architect of the imagination. Here you will see my creations come to life. My short stories, poems, my thoughts, and a little touch of my life. (I AM SLOWLY MOVING OF BLOGGER< FOR NEW STORIES PLEASE CLICK THE "MEDIUM" LINK TO THE LEFT)
What you are about to read is an event I so dearly wish was a dream, but unfortunate it was an unfortunate event I unfolded upon myself.
I decided to travel to the suicide forest. Why, I am not sure and am still not sure. But something drew me too it. Picture after picture I studied with great detail. Examining every spec of each photo as if there was a clue to saving myself from a deathly illness.
Each body that hangs has a uniqueness, each their own sadness; grief. If you stare long enough you can almost feel their spirit weeping. It is as if they are still alive, trapped in the echoes of time. Atoms circling, but lost, corrupted in an early death.
Like the deletion of a few words in the middle of sentence. No matter how you arrange them they will be meaningless. A strange void is built in an early grave. Upon such thoughts and feelings I took it upon myself to investigate further.
To generate a conclusion as to why my soul or my mind is intrigued by such things. I eventually arrived at the forest by bus. I took up a room just outside the forest. A small hotel, with no more than a hundred rooms.
The room itself was quite decorative. I guess you have to have such rooms to keep people comfortable near such a haunting place. There was not a single thing that resembled death, every color, every piece of fabric resonated with life.
The only thing that killed the presence of the room, no pun intended, was the light. It was an old halogen light. From time to time it flickered, but only when I would walk around. At first I never found it odd. But as it kept happening I eventually went to tell the desk clerk.
When I went down to warn the clerk of the issue, there was a line at the desk. So I stood out of the way. After several minutes the line diminished and just I stood there for a moment. I then approached the clerk, but as I was approaching they turned away and entered the back room.
I was a little upset at first. Then, as I was about to ring the bell a gentleman came out. A guy in his early fifties I would say. He had a smile on his face and wore a black bellhop jacket with a white button up and black slacks.
He approached me and as he did, I felt something strange, a cold breeze overcame me and chilled my spine. But without any hesitation on his part he asked how he could help. I responded with the issue about the light. He then oddly leaned in, and softly said,
"That room, is no ordinary room."
"What do you mean." I asked as raised by brows in interest.
The bellhop leaned away from me and with a big smile started to explain.
"Well you see sire, a few months ago, a gentleman came in to explore the Suicide Forest or, at least that's what he said. He was only scheduled for two nights. But on the second night he never came down to check out. So, eventually I became suspicious and had housekeeping go check on him. They found him dead, in the middle of the floor with half his head blown off. They say it was suicide, but who kills themselves over their suicide note? They even found a suicide letter written in his handwriting. He used a large caliber pistol. Where he got it from no one knows. But ever since then, the light always flickers. But only when you walk around."
Concluding his words, the bellhop stopped his story with a smile and asked if I would like a different room. I declined, the bellhop then smiled a wide smile and turned away from me. As he walked away I saw a sudden hallucination, or something. But I suddenly saw his face greatly disfigured. Chunks of flesh hung from it as blood poured like a creek of crimson red.
After the short flash of the hallucination, I cleared my head and returned to my room. Walking up to my room a little girl passed me by. She was very odd, she didn't even look up at me as I passed by. I decided to say hi, for whatever reason.
The little girl look over in my direction with a slight smile but with worry across her face. We made eye contact and then she was overcome with a fearful look. She ran away and entered the elevator. Her mannerisms were odd but, I thought nothing of it. I placed my key card into the modern lock and entered.
As I pushed the door open, it felt as if someone was trying to shut it. I forced it open and placed down the door stop. I looked around as I stood in the entrance, nothing unusual, clothes and items are all still in the same place. I had left the light on to see if it was just near its end. But it was still going.
The moment I started walking I could feel a cold presence lingering behind me. As if someone was following me. I turned around quickly but nothing was there. The light just flickered as I made my motions. Now, it was not like a strobe light, more like a passing flash you would get from the occasional car driving by your house at night.
That night, I fell asleep pretty quickly. The next morning I woke up with some of the best rest I ever had. I flicked on the light next to the bed. I walked around the room to see if it would flicker, it didn't. I took a shower, dressed myself and headed down for breakfast.
I consumed a few pancakes and some orange juice and then headed out to the forest. I remember the morning was a bit cold. Fog had rolled down from the surround hills. It was eerie, but strangely a delightful scene. It was surreal to be in a place of death and being knee high in fog, it was like a movie and I was the main character.
I then ventured into the forest. I had a camera with me, I walked deep into the woods till I found the first hanging body. I walked up to it slowly as I took photos. It didn't frighten me at all but, when I got only a few paces from it, a small branch fell from the tree and hit me in the head.
I freaked out for a moment then laughed it off and continued examining the body and taking photos. The body seemed only a month or two old. It was clearly a male, as there was still a present beard. Its skin was clearly rotted and pitted with insects. The smell, I can't even explain it, but it was foul. Yet, I stood with a strong stomach.
After a few minutes I saw something hanging beside it. A piece of paper that was folded to one side. I carefully lifted it with my hand and opened it. It was a lamented letter and it read.
"I could not let him live anymore and in that, I could not let myself live. For the act I committed has drawn me to a sickness I cannot get rid of. "
There was no name, no signature. The body was completely nude except for underwear. The cheap usual white pair of underwear. I took about hundred photos of the body, including the note. I decided to turn back and examine the photos I had just taken. I have three days here, so it'll be enough time to go back in and find more bodies to capture.
Walking back to the hotel I passed many others who were exploring. Most were too busy to even see I was there. Receding back to the hotel I walked up to the entrance and there stood the the bellhop. Smiling and staring awkwardly at me. As if he wanted to ask me something but was afraid too.
I passed by him and nodded. He gave no such response but kept that obnoxious smile upon his face. I went back up to room, but this time, all my things were gone. My clothes, my toiletries and my camera equipment.
All I had now was the camera in my hands. I quickly jolted out of my room. I rushed down the stairs to the lobby. When I arrived there was no one there. I went outside to find the bellhop, but he wasn't there either.
But as I returned back inside, there he was. Standing silent, smiling with wide eyes. You figured I would have freaked out but I didn't. I cringed with annoyance as I stared at his ever so stretching smile. His dull darkened eyes showed no emotion.
He then asked if he could help. I told him about how all my things were stolen but he gave me a response I did not expect.
"Sir, are you sure, because when you arrived you came empty handed, expect for a small black lock box."
I looked at him confused and frustrated. "No, I came here with clothes, camera equipment and writing materials."
He then just kept smiling and before he turned away and left, he said, "Well sir, you may want to retrace your steps, maybe you miss placed these "stolen" items."
After that, he swiftly turned around and went into the backroom behind the clerk desk. I scoffed with irritation and headed outside to clear my head. It started to rain as I did, I allowed myself to become drenched in rain.
I then returned inside and as I did a another gentleman was walking in just in front of me. Then the front clerk spoke out asking if we wanted towels to dry off. We both gestured no, got into separate elevators and headed up. I did not feel like dealing with a conversation with a stranger at the moment.
I arrived at my floor, I remember looking down, seeing a small pool of water at my feet. My jeans were soaked, you could see through my white shirt. I headed to my room, my shoes squatted with each step.
Heading to my room, that little girl was there again, not looking at me, I decided to say hi and then again, but she did not respond. She looked at me with a slight smile and distress and then ran away. Everything about this place was getting more odd by the second.
I then decided to take a nap, I removed all my clothes, threw them in the tub and then went to sleep. Maybe I was just jet lagged. After an hour of sleep I woke up. I looked outside. It was still raining and the clouds looked as if they were not going to give up any time soon.
So, I decided to wait inside my room till the weather gave up. And here I am, alone, no clothes, just my white underwear I wear to travel in. No need to waste good clothes on an adventure outdoors.
As I ran this moment through my head, I realized the man hanging from the tree was wearing only a pair of white underwear. But that could be just a coincidence. These kind of underwear are not some rarity. Plenty of people wear them right? I thought as I looked myself in the mirror.
Then suddenly, a loud noise came from the door. I ran over to look, and there stood the bellhop. But this time he had no smile. He wore a look of fright and bared tears upon his cheeks. And with great horrific surprise appeared something inconceivable behind the bellhop, I dare not say this, I still do not believe it.
There stood me, but clothed with a pistol in my hand pointed at the old mans head. I was pressing the barrel tightly against his skull. Pushed him into the room and directed him to get on his knees facing the wall away from the bed.
The old man gave no resistance. He knelt down as he wept, I was saying something, yelling at him but my words were muffled as if listening to someone yell through a wall. And my voice of the other me was breaking up like a scattered radio station. Then, I tossed down a pen and paper at the man. It landed in front of him.
As I watched this, now shivering from a sudden breach of cold into my room. I walked over to see what he is writing as I my other me, screams and yells at him. The man starts to write, and as he writes I start to see what it is.
It is a suicide note. I stepped back and pressed my back against the wall. I then see myself step to the side of the old man and push the end of the barrel against his temple. I suddenly feel a knot build in my stomach. As if I am about to vomit, I rush over and try to stop what I am seeing.
But all of it is a hallucination. They can neither see me, hear me, and I cannot touch them. I fall through them and land against the dresser in the room. I watch as the horror unfolds. I watch as I pull the trigger, blood goes everywhere and the man drops instantly.
I feel myself wanting to puke. The horror that unfolded in front of me opened a locked gate of memories. I started to see flashes of myself. Seeing myself pack away a gun, a pen and paper into a small lock box.
I see myself getting on a plane and land in Japan. Suddenly I am standing in the same hotel and check in, but I check in with a fake ID and am only holding that black box. The visions show me walking passed the old man in the hall as I enter a room next to the room I am in now.
But why, why would I kill this man? I shake my head of the visions, the memories. But they will not cease. They crowd my mind like a horror film reel. I look over and there I am again, the old man on his knees, me screaming. I watch the horror play out all over again.
I stand up and run to the door, but it won't budge, it feels as if it locked from the otherside. Suddenly I feel a hand grasp my shoulder. I turn around, and there is the hold man, face half blown off. Blood seeping from the giant gaping hole. His teeth mangled and pieces of bones dangling.
I become hysterical and try to open the door. It then opens and I fall into the hallway. I catch myself and as I do, the small girl is passing by. She wears a smile on her face, but as she raises her eyes from the ground she sees me.
She becomes distraught and runs away. I panic and head to the stares and exit the building. I am taken over by visions again. But this time, I see the old man but in younger years and hovering atop of me.
He is grasping my arms and grunting. I feel myself struggling to get out of his grasp, but I can't. I come too from the vision and start to run. It all starts to make sense, I began to weep. I ran into the woods where I found the body.
Still crying I grab its right leg and look behind it. I became stunned with frightful surprise, just above the back of the knee, was a scar. Just like the one I have from an accident on my bike at a young age. I crumbled to my knees and started to weep.
I see it all unfold, my revenge, my anger, my repression of myself and my pain. I see everything, and so I see myself. A month later, return with a rope and hang myself. Now I am incomplete, living in the motions of an early death.
What do you think of suicide? Why do you think it is so romanced these days and only seems to be increasing?
A Wanderers Inn I have been traveling for thirty days. My horses are weak and I thirst dearly for water. My belly aches as hunger constricts my gut. I am fearful of death in such an unsuitable way. I have always seen myself dying in daring act of life. Be it in war or the saving of a child. Or maybe, even in the defeat of a dragon as I get one last blow with my blade before it strikes me down and it falls to its death beside me. Feeling its last breath of heat roll over my body as our eyes see only our fading souls. I have always thought my death would be glorious. Yet here I am, traveling alone with no more rations, nor water. My horses no longer walk with fervor but lackadaisical steps. And so I pray to find shelter before the cold takes us. Before the empty plains of barren trees and darkness finds us. I wish not to be detritus before my days. Decaying slowly to the maggots as my body lays helpless upon the earth. Becoming a gruesome vision of what lies inside. B
The Moles Never Learn I found myself walking in the snow, my head aching with a sharp pain. I feel the back of my head, there is something crusted upon the rear of my skull. I dig my nail carefully into it. I can feel the crust collect beneath my nail like dirt. As my feet trudge through the sixteen inches of snow I look to my nail and there in my nail is blood. Dried cells of my body. Upon seeing this I become confused with worry. I place my hand once again upon my bloodied skull and began to examine it. I slide my index finger like the bristle of a broom, back and forth trying to see what wound had allowed such blood upon me. But after several seconds of feeling about, I find nothing. No scratches, no lacerations, nothing. My worried confusion musters down to mere confusion. I rub my eyes as I am strangely held with a slight daze. As if I have been interrupted from a deep sleep. And the evening air is not helping my situation. I am comfortably wrapped for a day tr
The Blameful Two The world broke as their hearts bled the shadows of their misery. Seeping upon the world, flooding with the scars of agony. Their eyes trembling beneath the moonlight as their blood stained hands shimmer. Their lips sewn as each is caught in a lie. Both bare, exposed to their duality. Their curtains drawn thus unmasks the bodies they have slain. The skeletons of truth dragged through the spoils of deceit. Each, unwilling to speak. Their cheeks flush in rose petals. Their skin taut to the anxiety of their arrest. They are now the victims of themselves and each the other. Two hell's preached in the underbelly of their weakness. The fraudulent thought in avoidance of pain. And now they stand as nude as the beginning of life, Adam and Eve. Shaking, they are without words. Silent, bearing only tears that fall to the blood soaked floors. The dark whirlpools of hypocrisy. Neither is without sin and neither is without murder. Their souls weep dearly a