I'm not naturally a coward. Everyone has a couple things that gets them, but to say I am, by nature, afraid, would be fairly wrong. I can be scared, yes, but it is not a natural reaction. When a threat turns its burning gaze on my figure, I am first to stand my ground, to walk towards that which others would flee from. Far as it seems, fear is a weakness that impedes us, something that causes us to avoid the unknown. Yet, it is that which we do not understand that hides all the secrets. The world challenges us, dares us to seek its unknown. Most of us will flee, flee from that which might do us harm. I fear not the unknown; I seek it. I seek its truths, its answers, the knowledge it surely holds. Fear is what keeps us from the treasure at the end of the road. I am not afraid. I will not be afraid. You cannot scare me.
It is likely this view that lead me to the venture I chose to partake in late this evening. Looming in front of me were just a few measly trees, but if one were to cast their eye further, they would surely find far more. These few trees, standing brazenly in front of me, were nothing but a precursor to the woodlands which lurked further ahead. Deep within those trees was a secret, I was sure of it, and like a nosy reporter, I was going to unearth it.
I progressed forward at a casual rate, an increasing rate of trees glimmering into my vision. Slowly a few of them turned into the many I was expecting, and a forest greeted me with silence. Aside from a low hum riding on the wind, there was not a sound to be heard. It was like the forest was attempting to dismay me, to convince me nothing was around. Perhaps the trees - and whatever else lurked within - thought that if they stayed quiet enough, I would believe them to be innocent, believe them to not be the keepers of secrets unknown. I was not a fool, and thus I moved on.
As I stepped between the trees, and the moon's light was blocked by the thick of leaves, a crunching met my ears. My feet snapped twigs and tore leaves, creating sound, and as the sound began, more were awakened. Upon realizing an avid explorer had approach the forest in search of what it held, the forest awoke. It was shy, like a young child meeting a stranger for the first time, but branches began to rustle and crickets nervously cautioned at a few chirps as the forest realized it had found one, a person who would seek its secrets. It was greeting me.
The forest appeared to be covered by darkness, but I could see through its fog. Though mostly blocked out, the leaves still allowed a bit of moonlight to struggle in, and its rays flecked the forest floor. With these lines of glowing specks, I could see as much as I needed.
What I wondered most, though, was why people were so adamant about avoiding this place. I asked many people what was here - assumed there was an angry pack of vicious animals or something - but the way people described it, it surely didn't sound quite so. It was out there, whatever it was, but none would tell. It was like they signed a contract to this mystery, agreeing to never reveal it. I asked if it was animal and I asked if it was man. According to those who answered me, it is both, and it is also neither. My interest was already peeked.
I wandered with ease, keeping my attention strong, alert, and my senses prepared to respond to anything even remotely out of the ordinary. I felt that sense of adventure with every step I took further from the outside world. There was something unknown here, and I felt strongly that even those who warned me from it did not know what it truly was. I would know. The knowledge would be mine.
Sounds moved in and out of range, but none of it was particularly odd to hear within a forest. At first, they came far more often then they went. Anything from the hoots of a curious owl to the clunk of a nut falling from a tree revealed itself to me, but soon they faltered. Instead of these common forest noises coming, they left, quickly. The animals silenced first. Owls lost interest in what they sought, crickets refused to share their tunes with me any longer. It was almost as though I had crossed an unknown threshold that turned everything off.
There was a rustle, and I would have pushed it off as nothing, had it sounded like leaves. The wind released a very low hum, and rising upon its back, firmly gripping the reigns, was the rustling of paper. It was feint, but I heard it nonetheless, my ears alerting me to the new variable. I turned my head, and moved towards it.
After no more than thirty seconds of looking, I found it. There was indeed a sheet of paper nearby, stuck firmly to a strange thin tree. The tree had a trunk that hardly existed, but its leaves were thick and prominent, branches far more numerous then such a small trunk could surely support.
I moved towards the sheet of paper, placing a hand on the edge of the narrow tree's trunk as I attempted to scan what it discerned to me. There was only a little bit of writing on the paper, scrawled in a messy handwriting. I wanted to denote that whoever wrote it was in a hurry, but what it said would have debunked that theory.

Look into the shadows...

Most people would have reacted to that by skittishly turning their eyes to the darkest area around, searching frantically for the certain terror that was near. Instead, I was only curious. Someone had placed this here for unknown reasons, and I was uncertain about why. Who they wanted to find it and how badly they yearned for it to be found were also factors I had yet to discover. Most would assume this was meant to scare people, but I believed it to be more of a guide. I would not run from the shadows. I would walk into them. That was where the answers were. I knew it.
I hesitated first, though, for I realized something fairly trivial, something the average person would have overlooked - I mean, who spends copious amounts of time staring at a sheet of old paper stuck to a tree? There was no rational explanation for how this was actually stuck here. Nothing was holding the paper in place. There was nothing stabbed through it and into the tree, and nothing sticky seemed to be coating its backside. It remained held by seemingly nothing.
This information only interested me more. What kind of unknown powers had I found, and what other uses would they have? I grabbed the paper fiercely in my grasp and tore it down. The paper showed no signs of resistance, no signals that anything was keeping it there, and came with me willingly. I wasn't sure why, but I had a feeling I would want to keep this.
My eyes scanned around, searching for the dark most would avoid, and I moved towards it. I forced my way into the eerie blackness with not even a shiver. There was nothing to fear. Only answers existed, regardless of how much of a challenge they may be to find.
A dim glow pierced through the dark. It was a challenge to notice at first, as it would most likely to be taken as moonlight flecks, but I noted the slight difference in intensity, and moved towards it. There was, ahead of me, and stake thrust into the ground, a flame struggling to stay alive on top of it. A slightly shorter stake was jabbed into the ground less than a foot away, and yet another sheet of paper was stuck to it.
I approach, naturally, and with apt precision moved to claim it as my own. I claimed it before I even read it. Nothing held it again, seemingly nothing, anyways. It came just as willingly. Had I been intended to find this one as well? I then lifted it up, and read it.

Do you ever feel like you're being watched?

I felt a very brief hesitation in my breath, but just as quickly as I paused did I relent, and exhaled with a small chuckle. This was clearly a threat - that's what most would say. It still appealed to me as a distraction, and test to see who would flee and who would push ahead. I was being tested, by something, by someone. For all I knew, that which wrote the test might not even be around, but if that was so, I would find what it once lead to.
I glanced back once, into the piercing black, then shook my head and continued ahead, making my way behind the glowing torch.
The journey was silent, quieter then it had been before. Even the sounds of crunching leaves I had come to know had abandoned me, favoured by a road of tossed dirt. I kept my eyes trained on the surrounding, looking deep into the weak spots of moonlight for anything strange. Were there going to be more of these pages?
The area grew colder as I progressed, my body warning me of the dip in temperature by sharply shivering. I took a moment to stop and pull my coat over my body. I quickly shook the chill from my body. The progression of night would surely bring cold, and it would be an aptly long time before the warmth returned. I would simply walk with whatever nature threw at me. If the temperature wanted to remain chilled, I would keep myself covered. If it were to sharply increase, strange as that would be at this moment in time, I would remove my coat. No change, small or otherwise, would keep me from the secret I was determined to find.
For a while it was a long line of trees and bushed, ferns and weeds. There was nothing new, nothing oddly placed. Small pebbles started dotting to dirt path - although I had no proof this was intended to be a path at all - and although they were a nice change, they were hardly of interest, but as I moved on, they grew larger. It was surreal, walking with purpose forward and watching as the rocks grew and grew. I knew it was just a trick of the mind, that if I turned around the rocks behind me would still be smaller, but it looked amazing anyways. There was a large spike in the rock size, and there I saw it. It was a third page. I moved to claim it.

Don't be afraid of the dark; be afraid of what's in it.

I released a chuckle, not hesitating this time around. I hadn't been afraid of the dark since I was very young, and even then it hadn't been that terrible. I never ran to my parents in blind panic. Instead I would sometimes jump at what was clearly nothing, sharply turn on a light, and search for the unknown. When I found nothing, I would recall my light and give the room back the darkness it truly wanted. I was startled, afraid even, but clearly not terrified. Now, the dark was nothing scary. It was interesting.
It was becoming clear to me that I - perhaps not me specifically, but someone - was intended to find these strange notes, as random as they appeared to be. The three I had found had all been stuck - by what I don't know - to something fairly out of place, something I hadn't come across before. The strange thin tree, the out of place torch, and the abruptly large rock were all holders of what was a path to something new.
I quickly stole the note for myself and turned to the right, making to move around the large rock. There was a shudder in the darkness, but I put nothing to it. The moon's light was fading as I progressed and I merely attributed the seeming movement in the darkness to a trick of the eye. I took a few moments as my head shuddered a little and once I regained control, I continued on.
These pages were clearly important, strange, but important. At this moment in time, nothing mattered to me except finding these pages. I wanted to know how many there were, what they said, and what hidden treasures they would surely lead to. Yes, it seemed as though they were not hinting at anything to be found, but it was merely hidden. Only those who persisted would learn otherwise.
Taking the hint that these pages would be stuck to the out-of-place, I opted to search for those. I had made my way quite deep into the forest, and while there was a part of me which warned I would surely get lost if I traversed too far, my persistence and the thrill of the unknown held back those warnings and kept me pushing forward. I would be fine.
I saw a strange shape in the darkness, wrong shape and size to be human, and not moving. It was unlikely to be anything sentient, but I could deny the oddness of it. It appeared to be a jagged half-cylinder jutting out of the ground, and as I drew close enough to see it better, I discovered it was actually part of a tree trunk, except the tree must have collapsed a long time ago, for it was sharply torn into without life above of its own. While I wondered at first who had cleared out the rest of the tree, I quickly stopped caring, for there was a sheet of paper stuck to it.

Curiosity killed the cat, my kitten...

For the first time since I had ventured out here, I felt afraid. It started as a hesitation, but then my heart thumped a little faster. There was no denying it now. These were threats. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what was waiting behind it. Someone had left these here to find - someone who was not too friendly - and I wondered with a shake if they were nearby.
Was the person who made these still waiting for someone to find them? I was willing to face fear to unearth secrets long hidden, but I had limits. I definitely did not want to die in a desperate struggle to find what may not have even been there. What if there was nothing? At this moment, it had to be at least considered, even if for half a second, that the chance at a treasure might have been a red herring, a lure to guide someone into this trap.
I faced indirect fears, things that posed no threat, such as darkness, spiders, and the common, non-threatening latter. This was different. This was a threat, and even if abandoned, it was not a gamble I wished to make. I was not one to bet on poor odds - I didn't gamble at all, actually.
I turned around, opting to leave. I was going to put this forest behind me. I would speak to the townspeople again, show them the notes I did get. Perhaps if I had a way of showing them I had been lured into this, they would be more willing to discuss it with me. If not, at least I found something, anything, even if something I can do nothing with. A find, even pointless, was still a find.
Except, when I turned around, I found I was not alone. Someone was lurking a far distance behind me. A very tall male stood seemingly motionless, staring my way. My heart gave on me for half a moment, and I felt a chill race down my spine. How long had this person been following me? Had I actually seen something in the darkness? When I had dismissed it was a trick of the eyes, was it really this person?
There was a sharp pain in the side of my head as I attempted to gaze upon the stranger for too long. I needed to get a good look at him, but I jerked my head to the side as it throbbed harder. When I took my gaze off him, the pain gave way slowly. That couldn't be possible! How could I feel pain just by looking at someone. I attempted to gather myself and turned to look at him again. He had to still be there.
Yet, when I turned, he was gone. The stranger in the darkness had departed in seemingly complete silence. Still, I didn't feel he was gone. He was still there. I didn't favour meeting him again. I worried these notes were his and he was the one threatening me.
I could navigate out of here. It couldn't be that difficult. I just had to turn back to trail the scenery again. I could move past the large rock, track down the dim torch, and finally move myself back to the thin tree. If I could find that thin tree, I could leave. I placed a hand on the large rock and navigated around it, sticking close to it like it was a magnet and I was the chunk of metal.
I had moved only ten or so feet away from the rock when I heard another rustle. While most of me warned against acknowledging it in the slightest, my interest in the unknown caused me to look up. There was another sheet of paper nearby. How many were there? I had already found four. I nervously inched in that direction. The rocks in this direction quickly pushed themselves down to size until they were pebbles of such a tiny nature I could not see them under the dark veil.
I now spotted several torn ropes dangling from a tree, and from the mess nearby it appeared these ropes had once been used to hold something up. Perhaps someone had attempted to camp here at one point in time - these ropes might have been erected to hold food out of the reach of wild animals - but clearly whoever had made the choice to set camp here had just as quickly opted not to.
There was a note stuck to the torn rope, held by seemingly nothing, and against my better judgement, I moved towards it. I would grab it and turn back to the rocks.

Nightmares can last longer than dreams.

I did not like this in the slightest. I abruptly imagined many people laughing at me as they recalled as the bold bravado I had been so keen to throw at people. I imagined those people seeing the fear in my eyes, the uncertainty in my stance, and ask me what I was so afraid of.I imagined them to stand in front of me, I remind me there was nothing to be afraid of. Those people likely hadn't found notes in a forest threatening them, then found a stranger watching them.
I turned to head back towards the rock, but when I turned around, I was not alone. Standing behind me, closer then before, was the same strange person who had been following me before, the one who had vanished then I looked away. Looking at him brought pain to me once more, and my vision blurred and my head throbbed as I backed away from him.
My heart pounded and there was a part of me that refused to look away from the terrible thing I was looking at. This was no normal human being, and in that moment of realization, a new terror was unleashed. I found myself terrified of him before my mind even fully contemplated what I was looking at. With the darkness that veiled him before parted a little more now, I could see why he was not of this world, this plane of existence - or at the very least, he mocked it with his strange nature.
His skin was as pale as a ghost, white like snow, and stood strong against the pitch black suit he wore. His face was devoid of detail. He seemingly sensed the world without the parts with which to properly sense it. There were no eyes he could use to stare at me, no nose to smell the world around, no mouth with which to share his purpose, and no ears with which to hear my fear. None of these things existed, yet there was something inside of me the claimed he could access all these abilities, as trivial as they may initially seem to humanity, without them.
When I gazed upon him, I knew true fear, and I turned on my heel to put distance between us. I diverted off my intended path and fled, heart pounding fiercely in my chest as I moved with horror-fueled determination to escape him. I did not want to know what he wanted.
Eventually my body hissed at me to give it a break and I slowly down to a barely noticeable stroll. A new fear entered my mind as I realized I did not know where I was. The rocks were out of my sight. I had no checked which direction I had run in. I had to find them. I couldn't turn directly around. He would surely be there. I would have to make a large circle, head back, try not to get lost.
I couldn't do it. With every step a part of me uttered these words again. I found nothing but trees and bushes. I found no rocks, big or small. What I did find, however, was a fully out of place picket fence, which seemed to only stretch for about fifteen feet and was built pointlessly in front of a bunch of bushes. It did not form any shape - it was just a straight line of fence.
I don't know why at this point, but when I saw the fence had a sixth note stuck to it, I rushed forward to claim it as my own.

This game plays you as much as you play it.

I yelped as I noticed the faceless man was now standing in front of me, somehow having gotten past me without me noticing and making his way behind the unexplained fence. Usually, I would have asked why there was a fence out here in the woods and why the fence did not decorate or block anything, but I cared not right now.
All I cared about right now was this stranger, the stranger who followed me, who appeared everywhere these notes were, who watched without eyes. Every time I looked at him I felt my body and mind weaken more and I couldn't explain why - though I couldn't explain him in general.
I immediately reacted to his presence. I didn't try to communicate, didn't try to reason. When I saw him, I fled with purpose; I fled without question.
Except I barely made any progress before I spotted him again, in front of me - and closer - which was not physically possible. There was no way he could have moved quickly enough to get in front of them by this much, standing fully still nonetheless, when his last position was quite a ways behind me. I hadn't even heard him move. He had been standing in a thick of debris. How could he have moved silently?
I didn't debate this - didn't want to. My conscious mind launched into a frenzied confusion, my gaze spinning in front of me, head smashing so violently it was as though someone was inside me bashing into the side of my head with a hammer. I didn't like - feared - what I couldn't put logic to. The sides of my vision seemed to be covered in what looked like a thin cloud of static.
When I saw the man once more in front of me, curious as I might have been, my first intent was to turn and run. i made certain to head away from him, to put distance between us. I didn't understand him and I frankly didn't want to. I wanted to be away from him.
At this point, I had no direction. I just ran, lungs beginning to burn a little. When I saw a large crate with a page stuck to it, I question if this would ever end. How many pages were there? Were they infinite? Why was I still collecting them? It was as though I though collecting all of them - however many there were - would protect me, would keep this thing away. I didn't ask, I grabbed. I read over it, although I don't know why I cared what it said anymore.

Why do you run away? I just want you to play.

It seemed almost on cue. As soon as I grabbed the page off the crate, I spotted him once again. He was a ways behind the crate and was a little closer then he had been before. He definitely hadn't been there before. I had seen that spot before I spotted the crate and he had been nowhere near it. It was like he just appeared there by magic. Worse yet, he had changed a little.
Veering out of his backside were thin and rather vicious tendrils, seething a fine amount of aggression as they lashed angrily, but at seemingly nothing. He definitely hadn't had those before and it made him even more terrifying, an affront to nature, not that he made sense before. Were those tendrils meant to portray a sense of fury? Was I angering him in some way?
I didn't care. It didn't matter. I wanted away from him, away from his forest, away from these damned notes, however many there may be. I didn't care how many there were anymore. I had seven. It didn't matter - even if it turned out seven was how many there were. Who cared?
I turned to flee from him and twice I was intercepted. He blocked my path with such acuteness, such precision, moving great distance for the amount of time he had to move them. I felt horrified every time I saw that featureless face, that snow-white skin, and most importantly, those lashing tendrils. I didn't know what they were for and frankly I hoped to never find out. Looking at him was unbearable, and every time I did my vision seemed to fill with unexplained static, my head threatened to crack on its own accord.
Ahead of me was part of the framework of a building. It was as though someone had started building a small house, decided they didn't like it, started tearing it down, then got bored before finishing - or something else stopped their progress. A page was on a large beam and I moved for it.
I didn't take it immediately, but first read over it. My hands hesitated at the thought of taking it. Even if this strange thing did opt to stop when I found them all, how would I know how many there were? It seemed every page I found made him angrier. I didn't even know how many there were!

Accidents happen to everyone.

I made a move to grab the page, but did not manage to make it. Before my hand could secure the page, something snaked around my arm and promptly turned me around. I had half a second to gaze into his face, as devoid of detail as it was, before the other tendrils wrapped around parts of my body and lifted me up off the ground. I yowled - I barely struggled, overtaken by terror, but I doubted it would have faltered his grip anyways - as the terrifying creature claimed me. Static overtook my gaze; I couldn't see.
Abruptly, everything went cold and dark. More than it already was.

...The Winged Kestrel has collected 7/8 pages...