Hopefully everyone has enjoyed the little snippet of "The Gift" I provided yesterday, which was one of four different introductions to four different stories that comprise the whole of the project. "The Gift" will be a reader directed story, not unlike, say, a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure book, or a visual novel, or perhaps one of dozens of 'dating sims'. That is to say readers, rather than I will direct how the story unfolds.

As I continue to present more of these introductions you will see that there are several similarities as well as many differences between the stories being told, but all will involve one human, the protagonist of the story, and their initial and continued interaction with spirits that inhabit our world. Keep an eye out for more journal posts throughout the week and I will provide you with four introductions, and then you can look for opportunities for these to be further fleshed out by you, the readers.

Please be advised that any, or perhaps all of the "The Gift" stories may include adult material of a m/f, m/m, or f/f nature-- of course, that entirely depends on the paths the audience chooses.


The Gift
Intro C
copyright comidacomida 2018

I've only ever been out of the United States once, and that was during summer break right after I finished my senior year of high school. Since my group of friends decided to vacation down in Mexico I had to use a good part of my graduation money to get my passport. Fortunately, my friend Dina's parents owned a ranch not far from Prineville and they offered to cover the cost of our trip. It was a great way to end high school and, even though we were heading off to separate colleges, it was our final week to bond.

Dina was Chuck's girlfriend, then there was Aaron and June, Allie and Travis, and of course, me, flying solo. I guess you might think it was embarrassing to be the only one going along without a 'special someone' but, truth be told, I never managed to find a connection, and I figured there'd be plenty of time in college... or after college... or, whenever, I guess. On the plane Dina kept joking that I'd probably run into the love of my life while we were in Mexico, and then after we got there Travis kept trying to point out possible hook-ups.

By day four I was spending more of my time alone than with my friends, which I guess you could say was really how high school was anyway. Sure, it was fun to hang out every now and again but really I never felt like I was myself when I was surrounded by everyone. When they were out partying I stayed in my room; they'd head to check out the local clubs and I'd just sit on the beach. The only thing we really did as a group was on the last day of our stay, and that was a guided tour of the jungle.

We were staying at a resort in Oaxaca, which I guess is pretty famous for its Mayan ruins and Travis, who wanted to study anthropology at PSU took a real interest in it. Allie, who wanted to do anything to keep in touch with Travis after high school was planning on moving up to Portland with him and do the PSU pre-nursing program. Out of all of us they had their lives after high school figured out, and that caused some stress during our day trip since Aaron and June were arguing over whether they'd go to OSU or U of O. That discussion ended when Chuck just suggested they go to different schools, which started a whole new argument. I guess that was just one more reason why I was glad I didn't have a relationship.

Our guide didn't really seem to take an interest of any of the arguments, but did occasionally ask everyone to politely keep it down. Apparently, according to the tribes that used to live in the jungles of Oaxaca the area we were in was considered sacred, and we needed to respect that. Since I hadn't said a word I didn't find that very hard, but Dana and June just going on and on about I-don't-remember-what. Eventually our guide came to a stop and refused to continue until everyone was willing to be quieter. Travis laughed about it and made some stupid joke about the man being darker inside than outside.

It was racist, yeah, and that pretty much sums up Travis, but he did bring up a pretty good point. It's not like there are a ton of Mexicans in Oregon, but there isn't a huge shortage either, and our guide was darker skinned than a lot of them. He was one of the 'pueblos indigenas', which I took to mean he was Native American based on how it was explained by the interpreter who helped us hire him. It really did explain why he was so upset about everyone not observing the customs and being respectful. Well... except me, I guess. I didn't really have any reason to talk. It turned out that those introverted ways saved my life.

Toward the end of our hike into the jungle there was a section of rocky cliffs we had to walk around. The trail wasn't particularly wide but it wasn't like we had to scoot along it with our backs against a cliff. I'm not a huge fan of heights, so I was walking carefully at the back, moving between various roots, stones, and bushes that jutted out of the rocky wall to our right. Every now and again I'd glance out to the left where a long, steep slope disappeared into the jungle that stretched out below us; a long ways off past that I could see the area where the guide parked our jeep. It was during one of those horizon-gazing moments that the rock I'd been holding onto for balance came loose.

I had just enough time to shout out a cry of alarm before I tumbled over the ledge. The world went upside down then right side up, then sideways, flying past me as I went rolling down the slope. I'm lucky it wasn't steeper, I guess, and doubly lucky that when my fall was stopped by a tree I impacted backpack first, which took up most of the shock. It was still enough to knock the wind out of me, and it was while before I could answer any of the calls from above. When I finally did, it was pretty basic. "I'm here!"

I'd fallen a good distance, and it wasn't incredibly easy to make out what they were shouting, but eventually I pieced it together: they couldn't get down to me, but if I kept walking beside the hill eventually we would meet up. I confirmed as loudly as I could with an "OKAY!" and started walking.

If you've never been in a jungle before I can't possibly explain the feeling, especially since I grew up in the high desert and I was in a pretty low rainforest. All around me living things made noise... or didn't make noise, and that made it all the worse. Every little drop of water coming down from the canopy gave me a shiver, and every time one landed on my head or my back I couldn't help but wonder if it was a spider falling on me and, if it was, how poisonous was it? I lost track of time, but I kept telling myself I would meet up with everyone soon. Just one more turn. Past one more tree. Over one more fallen log.

It wasn't all that long past that when my mind started playing tricks on me. I thought I was seeing shadows. I thought I was being watched and followed. I couldn't escape the feeling that there was someone, or some THING after me. It caused me to quicken my pace until I was almost jogging, which, thanks to constantly slipping on wet stones and tripping over fallen limbs did little to actually speed up my travel. Just as I was finally starting to realize that what I was seeing wasn't in my head, I also came to another conclusion: the dark shape in the shadowy undergrowth wasn't following me or hunting me; whatever was out there was guiding me.

It wasn't any overt, obvious guidance like pointing or shouting "Hey! Stupid! Go THAT way!". It was much more subtle, as if whatever it was had been watching me move and responding to the way I tried to avoid it. I was being shepherded-- and there became no doubt in my mind that it meant no harm. I know it sounds a little crazy to be stuck in a jungle in the middle of nowhere, and suddenly come to the conclusion that there was some strange 'forest guide' there helping me out, but... well... yeah-- that's pretty much the case. And the crazy thing? It really did help me find my way out of there.

All of my friends were happy to see me when I showed up scraped, battered, and exhausted. They asked tons of questions, and I told them everything... except for the shadowy figure who helped me. We had our afternoon looking around the ruins, which was okay, I guess, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that I was still being followed. Even as we went back to the jeep I hadn't been able to escape that paranoia, and it only got worse when I swore I saw something move among the bushes in the reflection off of the side view mirror.

Everyone left me alone for the last night of our stay in Mexico; maybe they thought I needed time to recover from the fall in the jungle, or maybe they just thought I was in a brooding mood because I spent more time looking around and listening to the word around me rather than taking part in their conversations. Even the following morning after we got to the airport or during the flight back that same feeling of being followed and watched stayed with me. When we got back to PDX we all piled into Allie's mom's minivan, which she let Allie use, and we started the long trip back to Prineville. It had been a long day, and Allie fell asleep at the wheel, so we never did make it home.

I awoke in the hospital a day and a half later. In the scheme of things I was none-the-worse for wear: some cracked ribs, a dislocated arm and some lacerations. The doctors had been able to explain everything except the location and angle of the scratches, which continued to stump them even during the next several days before they released me. I, however, had no trouble realizing that the cuts had been from the claws of a humanoid jaguar who had wrapped himself around me to take the worst of the impact. I know, it might seem like a strange conclusion to come to, and I would have thought the same thing if not for the fact that he was there with me in the hospital room, staring at me with rich, amethyst-colored eyes.

For the first time since falling into the jungle, I no longer felt as though I was being observed from secret; my watcher had made himself known. My parents, who were in the room with me showed absolutely no indication that they knew the jaguar man was there and, even as I continued to stare (with him staring right back), their talking went in one ear and out the other. Eventually they decided that I needed some rest, and they promised they'd be right outside. They stepped out, intent on leaving me alone with the otherworldly predator.

At that point, injured, and alone in the room, there was only one possible thing for me to do, so I--