Journal of an Unknown Soldier | CreepCast

24:15Because in that story, the, I forget his name. I think it's white, white something. Um, but the Calvary leader is taking them to, uh, kill the natives. And over the course of it, everyone's like real eager for battle. And the leaders just trying to keep a level head, like, just keep your business up, boys. We'll be fine. We'll get it done. And as soon as they get into contact, they are all slaughtered instantly. Like they get decimated. There's this section in the book where it talks about the band of terribles. and talks about how the natives are wearing armors of like spanish conquistadors and like the aztecs like just pieces of war that have been gathered by the tribe for centuries yeah you can tell they've just like they've all the people they've killed yeah they're they're generations on generations of warfare and then you have a group of people coming in like i hope i can get a hundred dollars from this and they just get wiped out immediately um if we could see something similar to that that so basically i'm kind of turning back to what you were saying in the getting maybe they just get wrecked i've never um i've never written read blood meridian but i've seen that the judge character is he's supposed to personify like capitalism or like that kind of like looming kind of that kind of like looming western expansion or whatever right i would say western expansion more than like just capitalism well i guess the capitalistic thing of like uh taking more than you're required or whatever like you know i mean like kind of like the ever-growing expanse or that kind of thing do you think the Briggs is going to be something similar here of like do you think he will like show well or do you think it I guess instead of like speculating I guess has his with all the characters we've seen so far have you gotten any inkling of that so not really because with the judge so the one of the judges main influences was Lucifer from Paradise Lost and that's in a lot of his dialogue the judge is a tempter like whereas Briggs is kind of like, don't think about the money.

26:12This is going to be a hard fight. The judge is like, think of all the money you could get. Think of how great this will be for you. He's like the whisper in the back of their ear. And yeah, Briggs is definitely a little more I guess not a little more. He's definitely like, only take what you need kind of thing. Or what you earned. Stick to the battle. Stick to our plan. Like, this is a serious thing, sort of. Whereas the judge would be more on leading. I think that the line that kind of made me be like, eh, I feel like he knows more. It's just when he's just like, because they're like, oh, I haven't shot a soul in a week.

26:43And he's like, oh, you might not like what you see. Or he basically just like more what you're bargained for. I feel like there's more to that statement. Yeah, I'm comparing it to Blood Meridian. That doesn't mean this story is one for one. I'm just saying the characters remind me of some of the characters here just from the flowery language, which is a compliment to the story. Because Blood Meridian is a fantastic novel. But I think Briggs is trying to keep his head on straight. I think whatever happens, I think he'll be either the first to die, and that will immediately disrupt everything, or the last, because he's the only one that actually has a sense of the danger they're getting into.

27:21You got one guy back there, I ain't shot a soul in weeks. And it's like, this is... The only parallel that I've made so far, because you've done Blood Meridian, I keep thinking about Moby Dick. I keep thinking about Ishmael. You can draw parallels between those. Ishmael being comparable to the unnamed soldier here, and then Briggs to me has a very Ahab stoicness and it's just very it's laser focused on the hunt for this thing which granted I don't know what the hunt is like in the Moby Dick it's very much the obsession of the whale the whale but here it's just uh so far it's been the prize but I'm wondering if there's going to be like a fun ulterior motive like yeah I brought everyone in this dangerous thing for my kind of like I can see that yeah yeah maybe maybe they get out here that's where my that's where my world where I was like I you know there's just like that you know Queequeg being like the ultimate, you know, harpooner kind of guy and stuff like that.

28:13And he's like the big, just like some of the fun parallel with like, you know, Starbuck and all the other people. Well, I mean, like, that's a good comparison because one of the main things with Moby Dick is Ahab didn't reveal his intentions until he got out there. And it was only the people that had been with him a while that knew of this obsession. Like Ishmael didn't figure it out until they were at sea and came across it. I think they actually don't have a mission until he sees the white whale for the first time and like recklessly charges towards it. So yeah, that's a good comparison. Man, we have we just started reading this guy's stuff.

28:44We have compared him to Cormac McCarthy and Herman Melville. Well, I think it's interesting for I guess it's just to say for people that are writing because this is also once again, this is just a fan submitted thing on our slash rape cast, whatever, is that I think that you can also proudly wear your influences or not even presuming that that's what he's influenced. But I just mean, I think you can wear your influences in a way where it's like the flavor and the texture of like the other stories are there that only benefits your story. You know what I mean? Yeah. I think that just something to be mindful of people who are writing.

29:16Just be like, don't shy away from your inspirations. Yeah. You know what I mean? Assuming this is like some of the, which I think is fair, especially like you said, if he's a fan of mine, I think it's fair that he's familiar with Blood Meridian and stuff like that. At least. Yeah. There's nothing wrong with writing stories that have things you like. Yeah, I mean, I just don't want to be presumptuous. And he's just like, yeah, I wasn't even thinking about that at all. It'd be funny if he's like, I've never thought of Blood Married in my life. Or like, yeah, I'm a Moby Dick. No, I don't give a fuck.

29:42I exclusively read Jeff the Killer fan fiction. Yeah, and I'd be like, that's awesome. That's great. You've done very well for yourself, yeah. All right, next entry. I want to take a moment to thank today's sponsor, Aura. It's still the spooky season when something as scary as identity theft could be around the corner. I mean, take a look at this report. It's insane the amount of personal information on here that data brokers could have access to. This is everything they could get a hold of, and it goes on for pages and pages. The amount of detail is absurd. I mean, at this point, it's impressive if you haven't had an account hacked or fallen for some phishing scam.

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32:25So stop putting off those doctor appointments and go to ZocDoc.com slash CreepCast to find and instantly book a top-rated doctor today. That's Z-O-C-D-O-C dot com slash CreepCast. ZocDoc.com slash CreepCast. The next day, September the 19th, near the San Mateo Range, we fetched the smoke at last. It sagged along the pines like a torn shawl, chalk white at sunup and coal black by noon. Briggs swung us wide, the wind set behind. He watched the ground as if the soil itself confessed where the feet had trod. His gray passed under him without fuss, pricking for every stir but never losing the trail.

33:08By midday we topped a ridge, a hollow lay between. Hogan scattered low, smoke coiling from vents. Sheep nosed the creek bank. Young ones poked the mud with sticks. Women worked clay and meal. The scene sat plain and home-like, near harmless to the eye it offered. Nancy showed his gums. Easy pickings. He laughed, rocking in the saddle. Rick showed a finger. He took the hollow in with a hard mouth, then spoke so clean every man caught it. We ride hard. Camp sits in the flats. We strike mounted, fast, wheel left around the Hogans, break them from their fires. First volley, carbines. Second, sabers.

33:53No prisoners. Burn what you leave. Yancy's colt pitched and slid Pike's way. He rode it out, still gumming. About time. Was near to forgetting the stink of fresh work. Best you remember how to keep your seat. Any man bested by his horse gets left where he lands. Gray stamped once and squared. Briggs leaned in and laid a palm among its crest. Sight narrowed into the valley. He cut the figure of a captain then. Hat pulled tight, carbine resting across the horn. Briggs lifted a hand and broke us in two. Jesse and Charles Boone took half to the right. Rest followed after Briggs threw a sage-choked cut.

34:35My Rowan placed each hoof down as if it smelled to come and work. The camp showed all at once. Six Earthlow Hogans. Smoke turning out the vents, sheep inside a willow pen. Women moved at the fires, youngsters with armfuls of sticks, two men taking sheep to the creek. What struck me was the hush of it. They had no notion that wolves were upon them. Riggs drew his saber and held it high. The sun flashed cruel at the blade. His voice rang out. Ride! We spurred down the slope. The sound was thunder. Hooves tore the crust, carbines barked, and the day split into hollers. I marked the first shot I sent.

35:17The man by the pin, palm still on a sheep rope. Ball struck center and folded without a word. My rowan drove on. Sting in my sight, powder reek and horse heat rolling. Yancy whooped like a drunkard, swinging his carbine by the barrel and striking a woman across the back as she fled. she fell face first into the dust her hair black with dirt red with worse his colt fought the reins even in charge yet he spurred it harder both man and beast salivating at the mouth man just in the violence the command of words to be like the back of her head with dirt her face red with worse and like the horse and beast salivating like just such great descriptors for how horrific this is.

36:03Painful. Yeah. Dirty. Yet Briggs cut through the camp like a scythe. Grey horse stepping sure, his saber flashing in the sun. A man came from a Hogan with a bow drawn. Briggs split him from crown to collarbone for the arrow loosed. Ouch. The air turned to cries. Sheep broke the pin and went under our hooves. Pike hung deep over the horn, snapping shots into door shadows, working charges with foul talk between. Harlan cut down a little one clinging to its mother's dress. The woman dropped over her child. The Texan yanked her off by her braid and laid a knife across her neck. I cannot pretend I stood aside.

36:44My Rowan ran a man down, bones breaking under her hoof. When the first rush passed, I dismounted, took my pistol, and walked among them. A man stumbled from a Hogan with blood down his arm. I shot him square in the face. It was work. No more, no less. The thing went fast, as this breed of thing does. Roofs lit, stock opened, corn poured into dust. The cries sank under flame and smoke. When the killing thinned, we worked back on foot. Torches went into thatching vents. Dry cedar took fire and ran skyward with a roar. Women dragged themselves out, clothes burning, and found steel waiting. I kept to Briggs through the wreck.

37:30He spoke no mercy and made no halt. Only tipped his blade where a crawler moved. Another man ended them. His gray stood patient under him, the firelight glinting off its blind eye. At the far edge, Yancey hauled a girl from a doorway. No more than fourteen. She clawed and bit, but he struck her down and set to tie on her wrist. Briggs rode up close and leveled his steel. Kill her, he said, voice flat. Briggs fixed him, and the thought died. Killer. Yancey wavered, then pulled iron and fired into her breast. It went down like a feed sack. He spat after. Waste. Briggs put a heel to the gray and moved on.

38:16The earth had turned dark with what bled. Smoke clawed the chest and fire drew tall. Sheep lay opened, legs still thumping out there last. I dropped one knee to chamber again. My grip shook, though not from scruples or shame. Hard money is bought this way. In the meantime, fire took the Hogan's one by one until only charred ribs stood. Smoke bit at sight. Ash rode the wind and gritted our mouths. Men prowled the ruin like dogs that have torn a carcass and still nose for scraps. I near had the pistol charged when Charles Boone called. Another hut yonder. Tucked in the brush. Briggs had taken the grate of the creek.

39:00With him away, there was no rain on the men. We tailed the Texan through scrub and rock till it showed a low Hogan, half buried in cedar. Thread of smoke slipped from the vent, then a jarn. Thought we had them all. Buck muttered, drawing his garbine. A pack of wolves came tight, hungry still. We set to with our rifles leveled. No nun thought a fight was waiting. Jesse shoved the mat aside and the door gave with a boot. Inside it was near dark, save for a shaft of late sun cutting through a gap in the hatch. The air was close, rank with sweat and smoke, yet colder than the burn of outside. Against the far wall squatted a cage of willow poles bound with sinew.

39:43A woman crashed within. Her hair fell in a dark snarl. Her stare sunk in a dirt-smeared face. When the light found her, she showed her teeth. Her forearms bore raw marks, maybe her own work. No words came, only a hiss through the bars like some wild thing caught cornered. She looks like she bites, Harlan said, flicking a pebble through the cage. She snapped at it, teeth bright. Nancy sank beside the bars with pistol loose. Wild stock. Still got fight. No using her. Best put her down. Puck said. Here's enough for me, Nancy answered. She'll pay me back for what Briggs cost me. A few laughed, then his leaves.

40:28Donnelly bent double in a fit of coughs, facing her purple. Leave it! She's wrong! You can read it in plain! The woman sank lower, body drawn tight, sight cutting from man to man. When it struck me, it felt like cold steel laid flat to the neck. Shut it! You've been hacking since Santa Fe. Only sick one here is you And you'll cool for any of us By the doorway Jesse worked his ceramic jar open with his boot toe And whistled short Boys over here We turned Inside lay a folded thing Feathers laid like scales Gray, white, mottled dark An old dry scent came off it Like long shut rooms Bird coat? Jesse said lifting it Quills shattered brittle under the beam.

41:19Rage like Al. Donley said, clearing his throat. Old folks like me say that Al ain't no good luck. Means death's close. Nancy barked. Death walks with us in a Al. Maybe they suited her for the end of the road. He dipped his chin in the cage. Her hiss climbed. Sight pinned to the coat and Jesse's grip. She thrust through the slats till her nails scraped bloody against the wood. She wants it back. Pike said, spitting black juice on the floor. Reckon it stands for more than dress. Reckon it means we ought to burn the thing. Harlan said, shifting his weight. No. Said Jesse, clutching it to his chest.

41:57Worth something, sure. Look at the work. Might fetch a traitor's coin. The woman shrieked then, sound not of throat alone, but from the gut. Raw and ragged. Colt outside reared and screamed with her. Yancy swore, features drawn. Captain made me drop the last one. I won't get robbed twice. What'd you say, boys? Charles chirped in. Have to be one at a time. That's just snap in half. Donley cut in. Enough. This ain't soldier's work. He folded with another fit, but his words carried. Yancy rose slow. Ain't soldier's work. We ain't soldiers. She's ours till she's dead. Talk turned coarse then. Each man put him forward his say.

42:42Each jest fouler than the last. Their shadows swayed across the walls, long and twisted. The woman's gaze never shifted. She washed as if weighing us. As if our words were pebbles in her hand. I only caught my coat. Come on. This ain't our fight. I backed for the door. Yancey swung towards me. You walking? I am. I said. You want to take her? I want no part. Their laughing chased me into the smoke outside. Donnelly braced on a post and coughed into his sleeve. He said nothing. Only set a worn look on me no fever could explain. Behind, the hut swelled with harsh talk. Sound ran together with the snap of burning roofs.

43:28Horses struck the ground farther off, restless. I poured a measure of water over my hands, though no dirt came free. Briggs came back before long. his gray flank wet from the creek. He saw the Hogan smoking, the men walking out with their shirts half done, their faces like dogs after the kill. He said nothing. End of entry. A couple of interesting things there, for me at least. Really like in stories or any kind of narrative, whenever you have a buildup of characters that seem a bit cartoonish, almost like innocent. You have the two Texan boys who are kind of joking and being like, well, I hope I get to kill somebody.

44:08Yeah. Whatever, all that stuff. And then you do something great with the narrative here where then you actually dump it and you make it, oh, this is like real and this is brutal. One, even the thing here where the woman was assaulted by these men doesn't draw it out, doesn't do whatever. It's just a sting of just like one, it's doing a couple things across this. It shows how ruthless everybody is. Even Briggs, our main protagonist, even though he isn't participating in that, He still, like, stampede over somebody, did all this other stuff. The cartoonish, joking nature they had before translates over in this horrible way to where now when you're like, oh, I kind of like this group of people, now you're kind of like, I don't really know how to feel about any of them.

44:51It went from, like, likable dialogue and set pieces to, like, sloppy. It resets everything. Yeah. It resets every dynamic you have, which I think is a lot of fun. I mean, obviously they were bad in the conversations beforehand. Well, yeah, but it's not in practice. Like you said, they were cartoony. It's not in practice even. It's like having, it's like in a story where it's like, well, I've killed 20 men or whatever. Exactly. You've never seen it. And you also haven't seen it described where this is an innocent, these are innocent people just hanging out. And all of a sudden these people raid in.

45:20Even like the idea of the job was just kind of like, yeah, we're going to go in and do X, Y, and Z. But until you actually hear about it, you're like, holy shit. So this reset, one, cleanses you of being like, I don't even know how to feel about any of these people. so now you're kind of suspicious of everybody of like well if they're able to do this what else are they willing to do but then there was a couple things by having it be so over the top and kind of like people were fucking getting mauled there was a couple which I don't know if I read this right literacy comprehension once again but arms bare she's biting at this thing almost reads like a fucking like werewolf kind of creature or something to where it's like it's like she's digging across the ground they had no idea what these people are she's like this feral kind of like creature, basically, whatever.

46:05She looks human. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But I just mean like she's like biting and all this. There's just a couple things where it's like, oh, it looks like she had chafed arms where it's like, oh, probably by her own doing. She looked like she dug into her hands. It's like these little remarks where those, I think those are important details to where it's like, well, no wonder no one paid attention because of all the fucking crazy thing around them. But even for the reader, then it's like when you go back and read it again, you're like, oh, the marks were right there. I just didn't notice with all crazy the rest of the things were going on.

46:34Well, most crucially, when one of them picked up the feathers at the front of the door, she started freaking out trying to get over to it or something. And they're like, I reckon she wants it back. But then you have that because that is dropping clues for the reader. But then you immediately, you once again, blindside the viewer with them just like taking advantage of this person. Yeah, right after that, Yancey says, well, she's ours till she's dead. Which is horrible. Yeah. Despicable thing. But it just like the author is dropping these clues for you. But then he's also just being like throwing this other stuff.

47:14It's just it's like so much happening. But all the information's there. Yeah, it's all there. It's all laid out in a way where you process it. It's not brushed over. but it's in the midst of so much other stuff happening that it just comes off naturally. Yeah. Which also we talked before in stories, like there's so many that will use like sexual themes poorly, like sexual violence and stuff like that. And we'll always say like, there is a way to do it right. And I feel like we rarely ever get to one that does it right. But I do feel like this is, if you're going to include it in a story, a way to do it right, where it doesn't become exploitive of the topic.

47:53it is an element of it in a sense that you would kind of be doing a disservice to the original historical account that it's working off of like this was a thing headhunters were doing on behalf of the government around this time in history right um if you don't if you kind of shy away and act like they weren't racist and murderers that kind of discredits what actually happened yeah i mean i think that you know there's an argument always that this historic would be the exact same without that but the author is using in a way where i think now more than ever obviously but not even just all this other stuff but it's just like it makes you hate the people even more the murder and stuff is horrible and everything and it's just like the extra cherry on top of all this other stuff that they're doing to where just like these people are just like to to the degree that our main character and that other character donley i think uh are like this isn't our fight walk out like they're fine to like as they said like kill people with swords and shoot families and children but this is like too much for this isn't part of the job similar to the horse earlier the horse is willing to follow whatever orders if it can get scrapped in between yeah i think that that's like an interesting thing too is it's worth noting that like i don't think that they're it's not that they're any better i mean they're still fucking murderers or whatever but i think that there's going to be like this gray area where like you're like oh well Donnelly's cool because he didn't participate in that and then you're going to be blindsided when oh no he's still a fucking murderer you know like it's just woven in a way that's very it's woven in a way that's it's interesting when the two of them back out there yeah it's Donnelly when the two of them back out right there it's like oh well that's good but they didn't stop her from getting raped and also they murdered dozens of people Death and everything all around us.

49:43And there's still something about Briggs where I'm like, I just don't think that that full story. It'll go somewhere. He hasn't revealed everything yet. He's let it down. I will say, like, for the weight of it. Also, burning everything, I feel like he's trying to purge something or he's trying to. Well, that was standard for them at the time. Oh, it was. Yeah, burn everything and come across. So they can't reestablish the area. Because the idea was to wipe them off the face of the earth. Sure. So burn everything to come across. or take it. And like there's that one Yancey was trying to type a 14-year-old girl to keep and stuff.

50:17Like they're horrific things, but the author understands the weight of what he's talking about. There's a respect for the subject material that makes it feel earned rather than like phoned in with details like that. Good writing. Next entry. Next entry. September the 22nd, camp north of the San Mateo Range. Three days from the burning and the stink rides our hair still. Smoke outlasts blood. With each mile, the troop grows sore-tongued, for fortune is turned. The mutton we dragged from that place spoiled in a single night. Okay, so, prediction. Them, like, specifically the feather, and obviously killing the village, but messing with the feather and stuff like that, they've brought, like, a curse upon themselves, something to that effect.

51:08the mutton we dragged from that place spoiled in a single night grubs thick as grits worked the fat pike split the sack gagged and kicked it shut we pitched the mess into the wash cowdies made short work of it come sun up one dog lay stiff on the bank with a black tongue the corn went the same road damp got into the cloth and the kernels turned to mush Donnelly's sword smelled like a body left too long in the sun. He would know the scent from his own stench. Toward dark, by the blaze, Jesse broke out cussing. Goddamn, I hide. He said, thumping the dirt with a fist. I left it behind. Pock asked him.

51:48Left what? The jacket. Owl feathers stitched fine. I had my hand. I sat down when Yancey made his noise with that girl. Went to fetch it after. I forgot. Harlan let out a rumble. You weeping over bird feathers? Worth more than any of you. Jesse said. Fire painted a mean cast over him. Would have brought silver. Should have been mine. Briggs sat apart, sharpening his saber along a whetstone. He said nothing, though I saw his eye on Jesse. Donnelly hawked red into the dust. You ought not have touched it at all. That woman looked ready to tear the bars apart when you held it. Best leave behind what riles a beast.

52:30Beast? Jassy curled his lip. She weren't beast. Just a squall like any other. She held enough to set Yancy's colt near on his back. Bach muttered. I remember it. Thought the damn thing bolted in the fire. Yancy bristled at that. My colt's got more fight than your crow bait. Takes a strong seat to keep him. Strong seat or not, you ain't its master. Harlan said. Yancy pushed up from his blanket. Say that again, you sour riding bastard. brakes cut across him sit down he did not look up from the blade the whetstone sang in long pulls fire snapped men sank back to their cups night dropped heavy no star worth naming the wind cut keen i laid down gosh i'm just such a sucker after the conversation like no star worth name and not drifting it reminds me of like all the poems I would read like growing up around Appalachia the like local authors would use talk about the mountains and stuff like that like and bread stuff

53:44what did I do to deserve that one I was having a good time just add a little pepper to it I don't know man gosh earlier i was talking about coal miners and i was describing like the big worker strikes and like people dying in the mines and hunter doesn't say a thing and then when i get done he goes well i mean they were like mole people so it's really like a give and take sort of thing no i tell you that you're you're right i mean like the people sat there and the brother and sister lovers. No, you can't. Brother and sister lovers with the three fingers and the fish mouth and stuff like that. They do write pretty poems.

54:29Wait, what did brother and sister lovers with three fingers and a fish mouth? Is that what you think of me? That's poetry in its own right.

54:40Yeah, everyone's Spock out there. Fish love, so. Make love to your sister. I want to take a moment to thank today's sponsor, AG1. People coming from my channel will know that AG1 is your daily drinkable dose of vitamins and minerals, providing you with the brain, body, and gut health you need to thrive. Especially with AG1 Next Gen that contains five probiotics and even more vitamins and minerals. And AG1 is backed by four clinical trials showing that it fills nutrient gaps and supports gut health. But I can tell you from my personal experience that it just helps me feel better. No longer do I feel sluggish midway through the day or don't want to go out in the evenings.

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56:26Grumbled, jerking on his boots He strode for the picket The blaze casting his shape long Rowan went up with the whites rolled white The rest janked their ties Drawing hard, hooves drumming dust Easy now! Yancey called, voice too sharp for comfort Settle it, settle it Damn it! He seizes the reins of his skull and pulled hard. The animal screamed high, half like a woman. He came up and lashed out with both hind feet. The kick took Yancey square in the skull. He went down without a word, but for bone crackling. His body pitched sideways and his legs kicked as though he still rode in saddle. Bone showed at his lips.

57:08The man scrambled from their blankets. Curse is flying. Pike shouted, Hell, he's done for! Briggs stepped out of the dark. He stood over Yancey for a spell. The man lay on the ground, whites rolling, limbs jerking in fits. Briggs drew his colt, thumbed it back, set one round into the skull. Twitching stopped. Briggs holstered the iron and freed the roan's tie. Smacked the flank and sent it off into the dark. Then he turned, nice black as burnt wood. Get some sleep. He said words thin by long miles. We ride at first light. No man answered. I alone kept watch after. In the glow of the dying fire, I saw a shape above.

57:52A great owl sat upon the limb of a cedar, feathers dark as a coal, eyes wide and fixed upon the camp. It did not move nor stir when I rose to throw more wood on the coals. Its gaze burned steady, and I knew it had come for us. At daylight, we left Yancey where he fell. Coyotes would see to him by sundown. No grave was dug. so interesting way for yancey to die because it's mentioned earlier how unruly his beast is both of them like foolish stubborn then it kills him but there was the line earlier when i think it was yancey said or maybe as the author said briggs would be the death of yancey or maybe yancey's looked at briggs and said you'll be the death of me something to that effect sure enough briggs was the one who walked out and put him down with the gun but it was from yancey's own foolishness he was unable to control his horse had no interest in actually breaking it um and then it gets killed when it's in a wild spur, kicks him in the head.

58:46Yeah, even like this owl kind of omen that's looming over them now. Well, what did they find in the hut? Owl feathers. Yeah, yeah. Well, that's what I mean is it almost seems like they cheated death. It just seems like the owl feels to me almost like death following them, where now it just seems like the sins of man, whatever, their faults are going to be the things that kill them. It's a reckoning. The excessive greed as well. I think that's just like, you know, you're going to pay your dues kind of thing. So, yeah. Next entry. September the 24th. So five days since the last one? The last one was the 22nd.

59:21Oh, that was 19th. Because the killing was on the 19th. Yeah, okay. Three days of riding. 20 seconds, no, two days later. September the 24th, east of the San Mateo Range. The nights draw out or feel that way. The owl's still with us. Each camp we make, it sets itself above, watching. Always in sight, though never near enough to strike with lead. Its wings spread wide, black against the moon. Some of the troop grumble, some spit curses, others go still. None of us find clean sleep. Donnelly went bad soon after Yancey's bearing without a grave. First, the same cough as always, then worse. What he hacked up ran thick.

1:00:01By yesterday, he could not mount without another man lifting at his belt. Sun peeled him down till he shook. Riggs rode near and gave the order no one favored. Time to that saddle. He rides, else he dies here. Man, talk about a, could you imagine how miserable that would be? I mean, obviously the character. Like living in that time or whatever? Well, living in that time, but specifically like getting sickly and then sitting in a saddle all day in the hot sun. No shade, just baking. I like the way he describes it. It peels him in the saddle. He's just chapped. Yeah. Oh, yeah. Like, lips probably all blistered and stuff.

1:00:39Coughing up. Dehydrated at all. No end. Oh, my God. Yeah. And worst of all, no internet.

1:01:16Now you have to tie him to a saddle yep no one complained and which also again harkens back earlier the story when the author says when yancy dies there'll be a little fuss over it sure enough they don't dig a grave just leave him for the wolves we bound onley upright he hung like soaked canvas chin sunk to chest his dun bore him without protest though the beast staggered under the weight donley's head bobbed with the trails roll, and once or twice he gave a rasp that might have been words. None could tell. At the midday stop, Pike broke the quiet. He's done, Captain. Best to end it. Briggs fixed him with a stare then said, He rides.

1:01:58Ain't no good to him or us. Harlan added. Briggs' hand rested on the butt of his colt. He rides. That shut the talk. Almost seems like he needs him. like it seems i wonder if he's just like prop him up i it just seems like with the other one if he really didn't need him there i feel like he would have killed him he needs donley for some reason i think so or like whoever is yeah i think yeah yeah i think that there's just something where he needs a certain amount of people or something like that is my gut intuition yeah yeah by the flames donley let out a low grind the sword a man makes when the inside of him has gone to water Jesse dragged a stick through the coals Hell of a sight Worse than Yancey Pike said Yancey went fast This one drags No one laughed Briggs settled beside Donnelly The gray tide near He spoke near nothing Only brushed a strip of cloth across that brow No man dared wisecrack Donnelly once stood close to Briggs As close as any can They fought side by side in Texas or so, Pike swears.

1:03:08Night dropped. The blaze fell to Kohl's. Then the first call toward the dark. Nine drawn out, too strong for any bird, yet it carried the shape of an owl's call. It came once, then again. Nearer. Charles swore. That bird is following us. Then shoot it, Pike muttered, fumbling with his carbine. Harlan flicked dust from his cap. I drew it on at last even. Lead went through the branch. bird never so much as twitched call rose again up above i raised my face and marked it on a juniper limb twin embers set in tar wings tall spread wide as two men across it held fix on us only watched it's got like a 10 foot wingspan up in the trees man briggs rose revolver drawn He planted his boots, took his sight, and fired twice.

1:04:02The reports rolled over the rock. Chips jumped from the limb. The bird did not shift. Only the smoke slid off the barrel on the night wind. I lay close to the ground, listening. Not only rasped beside the fire, a wet choke with each breath. His chest heaved and sawed, ribs like blades under skin. Briggs sat beside him, brim slanted, revolver laid across his thigh. The owl held still till the fire dimmed Then it spread wide and rose with a cloth ripping sound Dark fleck against the stars End of entry Man, gosh, a giant owl This black owl in the trees following them I'm kind of interested too that they've all noticed it And tried to kind of shoo it away instinctively And it just almost has like a The raven kind of Edgar Allan Poe vibe, you know I mean, he shoots it twice and it just It doesn't even care Also, it's a wings totally like it's like a fucking it's like it's accepting their souls like it's waiting to gather them up and take them makes you think of like when an owl comes down and grabs like a mouse or something yeah like a prey it's just like waiting it's like looming up there and at any moment it could just be like whatever big enough to carry him off too fucking 10 feet wingspan yeah this is terrifying hello yeah who holy shit

1:05:28Briggs that is the scariest bird I've ever seen in my life. That's the scariest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life. I plead to God. We burn the forest and everything in it. We should really stop settling for the night near trees. We should. How about this? We keep riding until we're dead or we get there. I don't know where we're going but I'm not stopping again. September the 27th Foothills north of the San Mateo range We rode three days more With the owl dogging us Ever above ever near Donnelly withered to a husk Tied to his dun like a feed sack His crown drooped Mouth gone loose A wet rasp working in his throat The talk drained out of the troop Even Jesse Never short of words Kept his own counsel Toward dusk we struck sign of a runner fresh moccasin prints threading the sage.

1:06:26Briggs swung down and read the dirt while the gray knocked flies from its hide. He raised two fingers and sent us along the trace into a wash. There we found him, a Navajo, lean and worn, a stave across his knees and a knife at his belt. He carried the stamp of a man driven near the end and his regard set hard as tender. He circled and passed the carbines up, Pike took his measure up and down. What we got here? A straggler? Ought to drop him now. Jesse rolled. Pike ground his heel in the dust. Let's hear what he knows first. Briggs eased his grave pace closer. You speak English? Navajo spoke rough but plain.

1:07:09I speak enough. The man's regard ran hard across our line. Camp no more. Burned. He tipped the stave towards the way he'd come. Smoke rise. Children cries. You make it. Jesse snorted. He knows us, boys. Navajo lifted his hand palm outward. Not for talk of smoke I stand. For woman. You let her free. Oh. Here goes this entire scene. That's the woman that they... One of those in the cage. The pack shifted on their feet. Pike spat a brown stream and asked, What woman? Navajo's mouth twisted. Not woman. Never woman. Chihiti. She's babies. Take hearts. Wear feathers. Owl now. Owl always. You see. Interesting.

1:08:01I had the thought when it was like a giant owl, I kind of thought to myself, maybe it's like a skinwalker transformation thing. Have you heard of like the Chihiti before? I don't think I have. Let me be lame real quick. Ghost or devil. Malevolent spirit of the dead, often thought of as a ghost or devil. That's excellent. What a great thing to let outside. Oh, damn, man. We had sex with it. Oh, fuck. Most often the spirit of a dead person. Okay. To avoid contact with the dead or enclosed places like a Hogan where someone is passed to avoid coming into contact with a chindi or contracting it. Okay.

1:08:42So you're not supposed to come into contact with one. That's why the house was over in the bushes, put to the side in a cage. Because someone had died there. was a spear contained. No one was supposed to step in there. And they came in and touched it a lot. Got super close to it. Also, all the stuff that they had taken from the place is completely rotted. So I think each person's just going to start deteriorating probably. They're going to start decaying, falling apart. The spirit's been let loose now. I have a friend who's Navajo, and I remember him telling me that there are, because me and him were talking about demons within some Christian beliefs, like succubus and stuff like that.

1:09:19We were talking about like things that will be a temptress or appear as a woman. And he mentioned that there's like shapeshifters within Navajo belief like that. And I don't remember the word Chindi, but I imagine that's... Also, I could be completely mispronouncing that. Well, it said often spelled as Chindi. Chindi. Yeah, because the abbreviation was like the eyes and the italics is like Navajo speak specifically. But Chindi's or Chidi's probably like the English way of saying it. I'll start saying Chindi if we keep coming up. But this, by the way, this story being like a blood meridian-esque like headhunter group coming across a cryptid that like tears in pieces.

1:09:59My heart. Right up my alley. I love it. You're bought in, so. I'm bought in. I've been bought in, and I'm doubling down. He lifted the stave towards the sun. The men fell silent, each eye following the skyline. Briggs' voice cut hard. Say it plain. He said she was caged by people bind her long years hungry, but bound We feed her little just to keep her not loose You cut cage you use her you leave her now. She walk free She hunt all Not only white men not only Navajo all Harlan swore and rubbed his chin. He lies Some red gone mad. That's all Navajo looked on him with contempt. You think lies you see.

1:10:51She eat nest. No bird safe. I'll take all. Sky, ground, night, day. No safe. Jesse snarled. Then you'll die too. Die. I'll die. Navajo leave this land. Not safe. You too. Pike leaned on his saddle horn. Captain, I say we got him here. He talks too much. Briggs kept him in his eye. Why should I keep my men from you? Navajo said on Donnelly, slumped and tied to the dun. Dead one's sick. Breathe black. You leave him, he die slow. I take him. He live maybe. Heal us try. Hard laugh went around. Charles grunted. Healers? He means cut his throat and leave him for the buzzards. Harlan shifted. He ain't living anyhow.

1:11:42Let the Navajo spare us the work. Pock asked Briggs. You trust him? I sure don't. Briggs held his tongue and ran a palm along the grave's neck. Finally he spoke. His words cut straight. We give him over. This man dies by your hand, or if you leave him in the dust, I will come for your tribe. Every lodge, every tent. You understand me? Navajo kept a dark face. I understand. Briggs turned to us. Untie him. This is interesting because earlier he refuses to let Donnelly die. And then there's the mention by Pike that the two of them have fought together a long time. So it's like the one thing that would make him not just kill this Navajo like he has everyone else is his loyalty to Donnelly, their friendship.

1:12:30That maybe if this can help him, then I'll trust him and I'll let this guy go. Pike scowled yet loose the knots. Donnelly slid from the dun like a sack of meal and gave one deep groan. The Navajo bent and swung him up, light as a child, slinging him across his back. Jesse twitched towards his revolver. Captain, you really letting this rat walk off with one of ours? Briggs' eyes burned black. Dunley's near gone. We waste food and time strapping him upright. This way both sides get chance. Harlan kicked a clod. Or a hole in his throat. Briggs answered cold. If so, I'll know. And I'll come back for every one of his people.

1:13:11That is enough. The man moved off into the brush with Donnelly over his back. Their thread thinned among the cottonwoods until only the wind kept on. No one spoke for a long spell. The gray stamped once and settled. After a moment, Jesse said, I'll stake corn when we never see Donnelly again. Pack worked his tobacco. Better in the me. All right, man. Gosh, this is so good. Next entry. Next entry. September the 29th, along the Broken Mesa Country. Two days since the Navajo runner slipped off into the cottonwoods, and the camp has grown mean with silence. The owl follows, yet none can deny it. It circles when we ride, and each night it perches near enough that the firelight snags in those embers it carries for eyes.

1:14:00Near midnight, Harlan came up screaming, Blanket wound round his forearm like a drowning man to a spar I dreamt of her The one we pulled from the cage She walked through the flames and her hands were feathers She set them on man's eyes And then we opened them and owls flew out That night we built three fires and drew in tight First light we found the Texan Boone Not Jesse, the other one Charles He had held the watch before dawn Carving across his knees We found him split it. Ribs bent like fingers pried apart. His eyes were gone. Only two wet holes left. Feathers stuck in the blood across his chest.

1:14:41That's interesting because Harlan had the dream and said she walked to a man and when she says eyes on him, owls flew out. I imagine either of him or her. So it's like that was his dream of what actually happened to Charles over the hill. Jesse dropped to his knees and let out a noise like a hound caught in a trap then he came up colored drain taking the ring of us which of you bastards did this no one spoke but crossed himself then caught my eye and stopped harlan swore small and worked his hat rim to the floor riggs came up took one measure of the body and swept dirt across boone's face he's gone we were right without him Jesse ruched him Teeth showing clawing at air Briggs stepped in Caught him at the wrist and slung him to the earth Colt was out before Jesse hit He's carry on Briggs said Flat as truth usually is Stay down or join him Blood threaded from Jesse's lips As he rolled to his knees Kept his mouth shut That night we stacked the fires high We drew the stock in close Yet none of them settled Pikes Bay ran slick with sweat Harlan, surreal, punched holes in the earth.

1:15:55Ears pinned, eyes white. My own Rowan trembled, neck down, snorting. Only Briggs Gray held steady. The blind side turned to the night. The owl called once more. The sound cracked through the dark like a green log on fire. It set Jesse to his feet. Brandished his revolver. Cover me then. He hollered. Come on, and I'll split you to hell. He threw six rounds into the black. Each flash lit his face, lips skinned back in a grin that meant nothing. When the smoke thinned, the birds still called. Pike told him, soft as mud. You're pulled in, fool. Jesse wheeled Wildface. Let it come. I'll put my knife in its guts.

1:16:40I'll - Cry came again, closer. It set the horses to screaming. The bay broke loose, rain snapping, hooves tearing the ground. It ran headlong into the night. We heard it shrink once. nothing no man said a word after that the owl did not call again it's like every time she comes as an owl death someone dies each time or death soon to come like with conley october the first broken mesa country i set my hand to these pages though the grip shakes near as bad as donley's did before we gave him over if any man should find this book take it for a warning i know not if the sun will find me alive come morning.

1:17:21This night split with a wind full of grit enough to skin a man raw. We tied the stock short, set three more fires, checked rifles. No man slept. Jesse hunched over his blade and talked to himself in a thin thread of sound. Meanwhile, shadows worked tricks across the ground, swelling large, shrinking small, never matching the flames that cast them. Every beast tethered near rolled its gaze to the ridgeline, snorting, stamping deep holes in the crust. The smell of singed hair rode the air, though no man set torch. It was when the night was loud as the owl came for us. No call first, none of the distant mournful notes we had grown to dread.

1:18:04Instead, it dropped like a stone from heaven. Wings spread wide enough to swallow half the stars. The air slammed against us as though a canvas had been ripped overhead. The fire burst upwards as if some hand had seized the flames and torn them sky high sparks rained down upon us biting the skin setting blankets alight in the glow i marked her tall twisted cloaked in wings thickest tar her eyes were red coal set deep her mouth a beak that split wide and gnashed with teeth like endless stones she strode between firelight and shadow and every man swore he saw her in a different place oh man gosh that's so cool it reminds me of um mother horse eyes and in the old story of the uh the water tribe how the the giant bat demon thing comes onto the rock for the girl even the description were like the cats in that story were watching it rise above the hills and then land all the horses were looking to the the ridge line where it came cruising down man.

1:19:07Pike cried out and fired blind into the dark. Shoot it! Shoot damn you! His round smacked dirt and winded away. Harlan raised his rifle and the stock tore against his cheek as though wrenched by unseen hands. I fixed sight on it full then, straight in my path. Feathers heavy as storm banks sagged from her shoulders. No bird, no woman, but some mistake between. A creature built from the wrong parts of both. The beak tore open and what poured out was no simple cry, but a howl carried by a dozen throats, men groaning, women shrieking, children wailing, all rising together. My guts folded as if every sin I'd pressed down came rushing back through that one sound.

1:19:50Briggs cut through the racket. Saddle up, we ride. Pac shouted. Ride where? She flies. Briggs swept the line, face black with soot from the smoldering camp. Saddle, mountain ride. You flee for Carson's mane. My horse is the only one with courage. I'll keep it busy. Pike's throat cracked. You'll be killed. Briggs' glare burned through the haze. We're already dead. Best I buy you another hour. He swung into the saddle. The gray lifted its head proud, stamping once, eyes like chips of glass in the blaze. The side of the pair struck me frozen. For that instant, Briggs stood the hero he might have been, a true soldier unbroken.

1:20:30He spurred forward into the stands. Ride! Barked once more, then he was gone. We mounted in a frenzy. Men dropped their rifles, kicked its stock, clawed at tack. My rowan trembled under me, veins thrumming, spit hanging thick from its mouth. Still it carried me when I drove heels into its flanks. Behind us rang three sharp shots. Measured. Certain. Then silence. We drove through the Mesa country. Each man bent low. Attention cut into the sky. At first, there was only the wind. Then came the cry. That terrible cry. After a span, Pike twisted in the saddle. His color drained. It comes. I wheeled in the leather and watched.

1:21:16It crossed the stars, dark and vast, wings wide as canyon walls. It fell upon us like night itself. Harlan screamed. The thing stooped once and he was gone. Mountain man lifted into the black. One cry split off and died. than nothing. It just snatched up him and the horse just huge. Yeah. You know, also this probably have you heard of the Thunderbird before? No, there there's this legend that like Calvary soldiers out in the West around this time reported seeing something they called the Thunderbird, which was a giant bird with like a giant wingspan that would pick up horses from camp and carry them away there's like rub like there's some people who say like maybe it was a pterodactyl that survived or whatever like a giant dinosaur bird thing so this kind of ties into the legends of that as well pike fired over his shoulder spitting curses so raw they hardly made sense the bird fell again its wings hammering air it smashed pike from the saddle rider vanishing into a spray of red mist and quills that drifted down like snow just like crushed him to death my roan fled behind foam running whites flashing I clung to saddle and horn the dark a smear behind all went still but for the thunder of wings then the roan stumbled a foreleg snapped like timber under an axe I pitched forward and the beast toppled weight crushing across me my leg pinned under bone near cracked the flesh screaming The horse thrashed wild, foam and blood working from its muzzle.

1:22:56I drew a pistol and put a ball through its skull. The weight sagged dead. I lay under it, air burning my chest, desert rough against my skin. She came on then. The owl sat upon a rock not twenty paces off. One cold, bright orb glowed from her ruin of a skull, the other socket now hollow. Where a heart ought to rest yawned two holes surrounded with blackened plumage. Yet it lived, if such a life can be named. I reached for my powder horn. The arm shook but held true. I poured what charge I had left into my palm, set it with ball and wadding. I meant to make a bomb of it, to set it alight and strike when she came.

1:23:39Better that than wait to be plucked apart like Boone. The owl shifted, wings stretching wide, feathers spilling into the dust. The sound of its call rose again, low and long, a voice like the tearing of the sky. My ears bled with it. I scratch these lines with the book on the dust. The charge waits beside my knee. She closes in on Ember Bright, her shape draped against the stars. If these pages be found, no eye rose to meet her. I aim to trade fire for flesh and powder for blood. Whether it ends her or not, it will not be said, I lay idle. Her wings roof over me. Night bends to her shape. The air spits.

1:24:25The earth shudders with her cry. I close here. And that is the end. Dude. What an awesome fan story, dude. Oh my gosh. Oh, it was written so well. What a great writer. The Journal of an Unknown soldier. It's fun. I like the idea, too, that someone did come across it, and that's just the transcription. Just found amongst the desert, amongst a pile of bones. The Thunderbird kind of analogy, or the Thunderbird mythology kind of thing is fun, too. It feels like this is a piece of that mythology that you would find out there. Yeah, yeah, like one of the early legends that started the stories about it.

1:25:02Desert of the Western landscape, you know what I mean? Just the writing was so good. The descriptors, the adjectives, the command of words. There were so many fun things set up, like Yancey or being like Yancey or Briggs will be the death of Yancey. And then he was, and like the brutality that's matched by like the fear they experience over the next coming weeks. And like the Navajo that come across and like how Briggs almost had not humanity, but he had valor in his own mind instances where he's like, like I'll let this Navajo go. If he can save my friend or at the end where he's like, my horse is the only one brave enough.

1:25:35You men ride. I'll hold it off. And he dies like obviously a horrible person, but in his mind, there was a justification. there was a uh there was a um there was a code yeah code of honor yeah they had a code of honor amongst himself yeah even even if he wasn't deserving of honor um just so many interesting little character moments baked into such a short story and like the it was all written so well like each of those character moments were described and the way the language changes between like like the narration and the dialogue and God, it just felt so full, even little things like how do we write in that the men discover it's a Chindi or whatever, a Chidi.

1:26:16And it's like, okay, well they come across a Navajo. That could be a cheesy moment, except because there's been another village burned and he says he can take Donnelly, maybe the only person that lived through this, which would not the Donnelly Donnelly still a killer, but he was one that stepped out of the tent. He, him and the rider were the two who left. So maybe it's saying that, you know, Donnelly survives taken away by the Navajo, the same people he had killed because he didn't go in this one further act of evil with the woman in the cabin or the woman in the Hogan, uh, who turned out to be the, the Chindi.

1:26:49Um, but like that moment, one that feels natural with Briggs giving off Donnelly is also the expository moment that's used to give the information about what this cryptid is, but it doesn't feel like exposition because it all works together so well. Just so many interesting moments, like well-written from like the actual wording to how scenes are framed and stuff like that. This is great. Uh, Trevor strange accounts. Um, we're going to have this story linked in the description. He has written multiple of these in the R slash creep cast subreddit, which sounds, this is an absurd place to put these stories.

1:27:25I think it's a great place to put it just that he's this talented and uh as far as i can find he's not published or anything which this keep writing dude this was fantastic yeah i mean i think that i say it's a broken record but simplicity in the story two things literally happen they raid a village and they ride away and you're able to get so much out of something that's so simple it's not convoluted it just takes its time and it like ushers through these like two simple things it's so crystal clear and i think that like it benefits greatly from it like i think that sometimes on paper you're like i mean all they did was raid that and then they just rode away and they got attacked but you can really i mean you can really get so many miles out of something that's just so simple and i think like it didn't overstay its welcome the characters just like we got to we we knew enough about them to be invested and then they were taken away from us and you know i mean it's like yeah just really fun i mean like it was great i mean i'd love to read another one of his stuff sometime i think it's awesome especially i like this format of the entries that's always fun you know i always like to we read some stories to have like the kind of like little entry points but i like a lot this would also by the way not to not to take away from trevor's writing this would also uh not be allowed on r slash no sleep really because it didn't happen to the author it didn't happen to the person posting it right site so it's just something i found bye bye bye bye wrong i don't think so unless you open with the beginning where you're like yeah you open the beginning with uh hey guys so i'm posting this thing i found also i think there's an indestructible pedophile in the closet band uh thank you so much to our audio listeners over on apple podcast spotify thank you guys for giving us the good ratings there also thank you to our patrons who support us and get a little extra juicy content on the side and thank you to the author who decided trevor who decided to uh upload this to our creep uh creep cast subreddit will be in the description link will be in the description but please guys be creative post the stuff on there like their community's been reading more stuff been commenting on stuff if you want an excuse to just dive in not everything's gonna be a fucking home run sometimes you gotta like make some shit before you make some stuff that you're really proud of it's all about the process and having fun even if people are like this sucks that's fine it's okay so just know post it have a good time we thank you and we will see you in the next one bye-bye see you in the next one and also i think this story uh makes up for what harry did to us with the brick story so he's back on neutral grounds with that don't get too excited bye

1:30:43I'll see you next time.

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