My POV is through a handheld camera, complete with battery life and a recording timer in the corner.
I’ve no idea if the timer will behave across multiple recordings (because I’m doing this over several),
but we’ll find out together.

The first thing I see is a huge sign advertising land for sale, telling me to contact Kate.
I’m supposedly driving somewhere important. I’m just not told where or why.

The road is blocked by a fallen tree.
We don’t know who did it, but I’m running the theory that Kate did.
Easier to drop a tree across the road than take down a massive sign with your name on it.
Either way, I don’t take it as a no.
Instead of getting back in the car and leaving, I go for a hike.

The light drops fast.
Oakside might be a mountain town, but surely physics still applies.
Either the sun is speedrunning the sky, or my character timed this trip perfectly for sunset.
By the time I reach a house—likely part of the land Kate was selling—it’s fully night.

Both the front door and garage door are open.
I let myself in.
Because that’s always a strong opening move.

The House: Half Powered, Fully Suspicious

The house is confusing.
I check one phone: no power.
I check another: there’s a message on the answering machine.
So either one half of the house has electricity and the other doesn’t,
or the wiring here follows horror rules instead of logic.

I find scattered notes and a flashlight.
The flashlight becomes essential immediately.
The camera throws out a brief burst of static during my tour,
which is the kind of detail you pretend you didn’t notice.

The location is good, though.
Remote. Quiet. Surrounded by forest.
If you ignore the notes, the power issues, and the open doors,
it’s practically ideal.

There’s a locked door.
The key is in the bathroom.
Exactly where I’d hide something important.

The Locked Room: Paper Walls and Beacon Talk

The unlocked room is covered in paper.
Every wall layered with writing.
Panic used as wallpaper.

One note mentions someone being scared of a beacon.
That’s not a phrase you want to read at night with limited battery.
Add it to the list of things to ask Kate.

I notice the back gate is open.
Instead of leaving in my car like a sensible person,
I decide to go through it.
Survival instincts of a potato.

Before that, a quick go on the slide.
No reason.
Just committing to the bit.

Generator Detour and a Burned House

A short walk down the path leads to a generator.
It turns on easily.
Too easily.

Nearby is a burned down house and another note.
I read it.
A small child appears in front of me, back turned.

I move around to see their face.
Quick jump scare.
I leave.
For once, a decent decision.

I circle the house briefly.
Not lost.
Just getting steps in.

Eventually I reach a sign: Oakside Park.

Oakside Park: “FIND ME LAUREN”

I’ve already entered two buildings uninvited.
One more won’t hurt.

Inside, graffiti covers more paper in the same style as the locked room.
Large, direct, personal:
FIND ME LAUREN.

I’m guessing I’m Lauren.
Because Oakside doesn’t seem interested in subtlety.

Log 1 Takeaways

• The camera HUD keeps me informed and mildly stressed.
• Kate’s land sale feels more like a trap than an advert.
• Sunset in Oakside runs on horror time.
• If a key is easy to find, it was meant to be.
• “FIND ME LAUREN” suggests this is personal.

Log 1 (You are here) |
Log 2