The Paranormal Streamer Chapter 4

Finding Frank took serious effort. I finally located him in a dilapidated shack in the mountains. The place was surrounded by mountains—quite peaceful, though eerily desolate.

I reached his door and knocked gently. No sound inside. I knocked harder, thinking maybe the old guy went out to tell stories. Pretty energetic.

I circled the house and discovered it had no windows—completely sealed. Something wasn't right. How could anyone live in a sealed house? Had I found the wrong place?

I felt I should leave, but suddenly a cold hand gripped my shoulder tightly. My hair stood on end instantly.

I didn't blindly turn around. I'd never believed in ghosts—maybe it was some escaped convict hiding here. A voice came from behind: "Young man, what are you wandering around here for? Careful or you'll die without a body."

Hearing an old man's voice, I turned to look. What I saw nearly scared me to death. The person before me didn't look like a normal old man at all—he looked like a monster, body covered in tumors, densely packed. His face was worst—probably full of pus. I could imagine what would happen if those tumors burst. Made me nauseous.

I guessed the old man was about five-foot-seven, white hair, barely any left, hunched over, wearing a tattered green military jacket that had lost its original color, full of holes, never repaired.

I thought: how did this old man end up like this? I believed this was the Frank Wilson I was looking for.

I asked quietly, "Sir, do you live here alone?"

Frank looked me over and said slowly, "Young man, I'd advise you to leave. This place doesn't have what you're looking for."

I thought, how do you know what I want? He continued, "Some places aren't for you to go. Even if you do, it won't help. Some things are better left unknown."

This annoyed me. All these years exploring, what hadn't I seen? I'd even helped police solve major cases. I still had my Outstanding Citizen award hanging at home. I told Frank straight: "Don't worry, sir. These difficulties are minor. I believe I can handle them."

Frank said nothing more, lowered his head, and walked toward his door: "I've said what I needed to say. If you want to end up like me, keep going."

Seeing I couldn't continue talking with the old man, I turned to leave. The mountain signal was terrible. Couldn't livestream this time. I'd have to record and edit it into a video later.

Night fell, thick clouds blocking the moon. Looking at the dark sky and the unusually oppressive, humid atmosphere—definitely going to rain heavily. By now I was starving. I'd only brought light equipment, not much food. Looking at my dwindling supplies and water, I shook my head helplessly. Checking my map, Hollow Creek was still quite far. Damn, really far.

I'd considered driving, but it was all mountain roads, getting narrower until there was no road at all. I had to hack my way through with a machete. Now it was dark and I was still trudging through the forest. Suddenly, a strange cry rang out, startling me. In this pitch darkness where I couldn't see anything, I wasn't afraid of ghosts—I was afraid of wild beasts. If some predator ate me, where would I even cry?

I shined my flashlight around. Either the beast ran off or something else—no more sounds. Now the forest was eerily quiet. That was worse than the noise. Earlier I was thinking about Hollow Creek's secrets—got to a crucial point—now my thoughts were interrupted and I couldn't remember anything. Now I couldn't find north, south, east, or west.

A raindrop hit my face. Before I could react, torrential rain poured down instantly. Combined with thunder and lightning—terrible. I could only hide near a large tree. Worried about getting struck by lightning, but hopefully I wasn't that unlucky. Bored, I examined the tree. I discovered something odd—though the tree had lush foliage, the roots were rotting, bark nearly gone, covered in moss, full of holes, probably from insect damage.

Suddenly lightning struck the tree directly. The tree fell, and the force and heat knocked me unconscious.

In my daze, I felt someone lifting me up, carrying me out step by step. I tried to see his face clearly—it was Frank! I jolted awake. When I woke, I was sitting on a cold stone slab, everything pitch black. I thought my eyes were blinded. My heart sank—exploring for nothing. Should have just stayed home farming. If not for my dream of exploration, I wouldn't be here.

Frank's voice came: "Young man, you need rest now. Don't be impulsive."

Listening to Frank speak, something felt off. I was in the forest—Frank was at his house. I'd walked quite a distance. How were we together now? I asked, "Sir, is that you? How are we together?"

I waited a long time for his reply: "So you were in the forest. You're lucky, young man."

Hearing this annoyed me: "What do you mean lucky? That lightning almost killed me!"

The old man gave me a medicine packet to apply to my eyes to ease the damage, telling me to rest here a few days and my eyes would recover. I thought, this time I really lost big—even injured my eyes.

So I quietly recuperated in this unknown place. Every day Frank brought me food. I didn't know if my follower group had exploded—several days with no replies.

Gradually I grew closer to Frank, learning his secrets and helplessness.

Maybe it was fate—me, a paranormal streamer, becoming close friends with an old man. This connection without seeing faces had its own unique charm.