[ WP ] You are a cryptid hunter in Oregon during the 1800s , hunting the illusive Hide-Behind through the treacherous forests .

March 9th, 1859. 
 
 It's wet, that's all I have to say about the weather. It's raining, it's going to rain some more, and after that it's going to rain again. The forest pine trees do n't give much cover either, but Papa says it'll be all worth it. 
 
 Papa says he's figured it out, that he's finally going to be able to make some money after years of being stuck on the local cotton farm as a supervisor. All he's asked me was to come with him and do as he says, not much different from every other day. The Oregon territory just became a state of the America as well. Papa says we'll have to start paying taxes and this is a good of a way as any to start paying the new government. Papa's smart, but I do n't think he knows everything he says though. 
 
 Anyway, it's raining. Papa says that we're hot on the trail of this monster, some creature that is supposed to hide in the trees. The way Papa puts it is the monster almost becomes the trees. It's probably some overgrown raccoon for all I know or a badger. It's getting dark soon though. Papa has set up some place for us to sleep in the trees, says it's too dangerous to sleep on the ground. Does n't make no sense to me. There are n't any bears or mountain lions for at least twenty miles, but what the hell do I know. 
 
 -- - 
 
 March 11th, 1859. 
 
 I never would have believed it if I did n't see it, but I think Papa might be on to something. We found some tracks, big tracks. This was n't like any prints that I had ever seen before, neither had Papa. These were slim and smooth, like two rifle barrels side by side making a V shape. Another thing was that the prints were deep, at least a couple of inches into the mud. 
 
 Papa's eyes lit up like a fire when he saw them. He kept grabbing my shoulder and telling me how happy he was. He was sketching the print while his hands were shaking, as if he had one too many drinks. The tracks were at least a day old, but they could still show us the way. They point westward, towards the three mountains. 
 
 It's still raining, it has n't and wo n't let up for another few days Papa says. I've forgotten what dry feels like. I'm soaked to the soul and it'll probably be months before I feel fine again. 
 
 -- - 
 
 March 14th, 1859. 
 
 Something is wrong, very wrong. Papa's gone. I've searched everywhere and yelled his name and he has n't responded. I climbed the tallest tree that I could find and looked all across the mountain side, but he is n't anywhere. I woke up this morning and saw the fire with breakfast cooking in his pot, but he was n't there. At first I thought he was just out looking at the land, but it's sundown and he still is n't here. 
 
 What's scaring me is the fact that every now and then I think I hear him. I hear footsteps crunching leaves underfoot and when I look, he is n't there. I ca n't be going crazy. We've followed the tracks up the mountain and we're on the right path. This thing is slow, but I ca n't help notice something. The tracks that we have found have a pattern, they zig zag through the thickest parts of the mountain. It's almost if this thing knows it's being followed. 
 
 Hopefully Papa returns by nightfall. He and I both know how hard it is to navigate at night. It's not like him at all to go out on his own like that. He's learned that lesson the hard way, to never travel alone no matter what. I've got to get some sleep though. If he's not here in the morning, I'll have to head down the mountain to find him. The fire's been put out by the rain. I'll be sleeping in the trees again tonight. 
 
 -- - 
 
 READ THIS 
 
 Whoever finds this, please, God, tell me someone finds this. I've found the creature, the thing that Papa was telling me about. I've seen it! It was the most devilish thing I had ever seen. It stands tall, twice the size of me, but it's thin. The things looks like a stump with branches for legs and arms. And it's black, it's skin is black as tar and twice as thick. I tried to shoot it, but I might as well have shot the tree next to it. It threw up it's arms and groaned, no, it screeched or it yelled. In all honesty, there has never been a noise like this before. 
 
 I shot everything I had at it, but the lead did n't even hurt it. The monster did n't even flinch. It looked at me with its eyes. Oh my God, its eyes! They were worse than any swarm of fireflies you could imagine. Looking at them made my sight go blurry, so I ran. I ran so fast that I fell halfway down the mountain and limped the rest of the way. 
 
 And now I sit here, my leg broken. I tripped over a fallen tree broke it over a rock in the ground. I still have n't seen Papa. I'm scared. I'm more scared than I have ever been before. I need help, I need Papa, I need to get out of here! I've made myself a cast, something to keep my leg straight, but I still ca n't walk. The rain is coming down in all its force now. 
 
 Oh no, no. 
 
 It's here and it's looking right at me. It's standing above me like a devil. It almost has horns on its head. Whoever finds this, read this and stay away! Stay away! STAY A
