Resident of the Evergreen woods and wanderer of realms beyond. Some have taken to calling this entity Moon Eyes. On the surface it is seen as one of the more mundane oddities that reside in Olympia. Said to be some accursed fey or alien visitor, it’s always on the move, except when the skies clear and the moon shines through. Only on such nights does it stand still, its eyes fixated on the moon like magnets as it stands atop the tree of convergence.
Name: Moon Eyes
Monikers: Moonlit Specter, The Other Man, Night Herald
Diet: Moonlight?
Activity: Nocturnal
Size: Varies
Weight: Unknown
It likes to take the form of a young adult man, but exceptions to this have been recorded. While the body’s description fluctuates between various accounts, it has remained consistent that it seems to only wear fine clothes with a bleached hue. One consistently observed trait that helps identify it is its inability to get wet or dirty, with most substances rolling off it without leaving a trance.
Originally it was thought to be multiple organisms but this was debunked not only by itself but by onlookers who have reported seeing it walk out of view and re-emerge with a different body. Unlike past entities we have covered, Moon Eyes is not only capable of speech but very talkative during the day. Prolonged conversations have proven hazardous and its proclivity for lying and joking means there is little to gain from engaging with it.
A clear night seems to always bring it to what some have dubbed “the fey tree” for reasons beyond moon eyes entanglement. Once the moon breaches the horizon its lips shut tight, its eyes glow a fantastical grey and it begins to drag its body up the tree. Engaging it during its trance is ill-advised, as all recorded cases have resulted in gouged eyes. Breaking its trance is no easy feat. Those who manage to completely distract it have unfortunately found even worse fates: being stripped of their flesh and subjugated to unspeakable pain before inevitably perishing.
If one should wish to seek it out they will have better luck at dusk after a clear night or on a late afternoon preceding clear skies. It only comes to the Evergreen woods to continue its strange cycle and is quick to leave afterwards to places unknown. Because of this it is believed the Evergreen woods may serve as a nexus or prison for it, a fixed point in space it is bound to.
What has been discussed thus far is our more concrete understanding of this entity. Beyond this are varied stories and speculations that push the limits of belief. Accounts that vary so wildly, one might suspect some to be fictitious. We have attached one such account, so you may join us in pondering the nature of our pale-eyed visitor.
—
[Written account turned in to the Evergreen Mystery Society]
I am not sure if you are the right people to turn to, but I can’t really go to the cops. No crime has been committed but I know I have been entangled in something vile. I am no longer home, and this place does not like my foreign flesh. If you can fix me, if you can get me back home, please seek me out, I will be waiting for him by the fey tree. I wish I could think of something more practical, but my mind is collapsing under some foreign weight and I have committed that this letter be my last rational stroke before I lose all else.
I went to the woods in the early morning, the sun only beginning to peek over the horizon. I had set a camera in the woods to create a time lapse for a class project and needed to collect the footage to move on to the next step. I’ve always liked nature, but I prefer it captured in a canvas, it always seems to lack the elegance our fantasies attribute to it. The ground and green smearing its colors on my clothes like an angry child makes my skin crawl.
As I made my way I was captivated by a familiar tree. It was a striking thing whose oddly symmetrical branches had made students dub it the fey tree. Its believed it grew upon the intersection of three ley lines. My eyes would have been captured for but a moment had I not noticed a white shape slinking down as naturally as some sort of beast. My focus drawn, it slowly became evident it was a long man dressed in a fine white suit. Touching the ground with his feet he stood to his full height and began to stretch. I was still a distance away but was taken away by his unblemished attire- it wasn’t just white, it was vibrant like a star. I must have made some noise because his head swiveled in a quick motion and his eyes locked with mine. He stood still for a moment, as if surprised, before unfurling a long smile. I was too far away but something seemed off about his eyes. It was not till he drew closer that I saw their silver sheen; I guess at that point it was too late for me.
His steps had a strange sway to them like a waddling duck, uncomfortable with the ground he stepped on, almost repelled. The shoes that adorned his feet were the same unearthly white and I quickly took note that no step through the mucky woods left a trace of filth of them. The man seemed surreal, like a vision within a dream. As he stood a few feet away I almost tried to touch him, to see if he was real. That motion was halted as his jaw softened and he began to speak faster than I could understand him. I think he was saying hello in a very long and indirect way, something about not having seen anyone in a long while. Still stunned by his quick tongue I stood frozen, unsure what to do until he said “walk with me”, in a calmer manner I could comprehend. Without questioning it I did so, driven by some primal curiosity, some unspoken promise of fantasy.
He walked at a brisk pace I was not accustomed to and showed no intent of slowing. My breath quickly began to give way and my lungs begged my legs to stop. He talked incessantly, only briefly pausing as if to give time for a response and upon seeing my disorientation continued. He spoke of many things, few I understood and fewer I am able to remember. I think he spoke a good deal about the weather and inquired about whether I knew what the skies would be like in the coming days, but I was too busy catching my breath to ever answer. He seemed to have an awful lot to say about birds, at first I thought he spoke of people but I remember clearly that he stopped at one point and pointed at a crow, exclaiming “That is the bastard I told you about!” before continuing. I think that was the only time he stopped walking. That brief moment of stillness allowed me to take in my surroundings and I grew alarmed as I realized the sky was a deep purple and that the trees were replaced by a black tangle. I don’t know where I was, but I don’t think I was on earth.
That moment that seemed so brief was enough to let him vanish. There was no clear trail and I could hear no steps, just chatter from crows somewhere in the distance. I don’t know how long I stood there lost in confusion. A single cry for help felt like hours and a whimper a year. Eventually I heard soft steps behind me and saw the man, his smile decayed. He said quite sourly that I was lucky he came back for me and that he would not walk with me again, for I was much too slow. His pace was faster now- almost a sprint. My feet hurt and I realized my shoe’s soles had crumbled away, exposing my feet to the strange multicolored ground. The pseudo-soil seemed to tug at my feet like magnets but the pull only gave me more adrenaline to drive me. He was getting further away. In my panic I tumbled and once my hands touched the ground I knew standing would not be an option. I crawled like a sickened creature at the brink of death, scraping my knees and digging my nails into the rainbow I called soil. As I was about to collapse and accept a strange demise I thrust myself landing on a muddy puddle. Engulfed in true earth my pores burned and my head split open with the mother of all headaches. I wanted to bash my body into a tree to make it stop. I screamed for the man to come help me, but he was long gone. Thinking the mud is what afflicted me, I tried to get it off while wrestling the temptation to bash my head in. It’s only now I am realizing that I am what is wrong. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out, I barely had the reserves to write this, please help me.
-Jenny Welks, August 6th 1986
—
We were unable to discover the fate of this traveler and it remains unknown what the response of the Evergreen Mystery Society was. As far as we are concerned, this letter could very well be a prank but the accurate description of Nevermore also brings that into question.
Should our allotted word count be higher we might dive into the associated massacre and what the crows and ravens had to say about our so-called Moonlit Specter, but paper is finite and others have much to say. We hope you will stay tuned for the next issue and continue to help us unravel Evergreens horrors. If you want to learn more about the Moonlit Specter stay tuned in to our podcast, new episodes coming soon!
—- CONDENSE FOR PRINT:
[Written account turned in to the Evergreen Mystery Society]
I am not sure if you are the right people to turn to, but I can’t really go to the cops. No crime has been committed but I know I have been entangled in something vile. I am no longer home, and this place does not like my foreign flesh. If you can fix me, if you can get me back home, please seek me out, I will be waiting for him by the fey tree. I wish I could think of something more practical, but my mind is collapsing under some foreign weight and I have committed that this letter be my last rational stroke before I lose all else.
I went to the woods in the early morning, the sun only beginning to peek over the horizon. I had set a camera in the woods to create a time lapse for a class project and needed to collect the footage to move on to the next step.
As I made my way I was captivated by a familiar tree. It was a striking thing whose oddly symmetrical branches had made students dub it the fey tree. It is believed it grew upon the intersection of three ley lines. My eyes would have been captured for but a moment had I not noticed a white shape slinking down as naturally as some sort of beast. It slowly became evident it was a long man dressed in a fine white suit. Touching the ground with his feet he stood to his full height and began to stretch. I was still a distance away but was taken away by his unblemished attire- it wasn’t just white, it was vibrant like a star. I must have made some noise because his head swiveled in a quick motion and his eyes locked with mine. He stood still for a moment, as if surprised, before unfurling a long smile. I was too far away but something seemed off about his eyes. It was not till he drew closer that I saw their silver sheen; I guess at that point it was too late for me.
His steps had a strange sway to them like a waddling duck, uncomfortable with the ground he stepped on, almost repelled. The man seemed surreal, like a vision within a dream. As he stood a few feet away I almost tried to touch him, to see if he was real. That motion was halted as his jaw softened and he began to speak faster than I could understand him. I think he was saying hello in a very long and indirect way, something about not having seen anyone in a long while. Still stunned by his quick tongue I stood frozen, unsure what to do until he said “walk with me”, in a calmer manner I could comprehend. Without questioning it I did so, driven by some primal curiosity, some unspoken promise of fantasy.
He walked at a brisk pace I was not accustomed to and showed no intent of slowing. My breath quickly began to give way and my lungs begged my legs to stop. He talked incessantly, only briefly pausing as if to give time for a response and upon seeing my disorientation continued. He spoke of many things, few I understood and fewer I am able to remember. At first I thought he spoke of people but I remember clearly that he stopped at one point and pointed at a crow, exclaiming “That is the bastard I told you about!” before continuing. I think that was the only time he stopped walking. That brief moment of stillness allowed me to take in my surroundings and I grew alarmed as I realized the sky was a deep purple and that the trees were replaced by a black tangle. I don’t know where I was, but I don’t think I was on earth.
That moment that seemed so brief was enough to let him vanish. I could hear no steps, just chatter from crows somewhere in the distance. I don’t know how long I stood there lost in confusion. A single cry for help felt like hours and a whimper a year. Eventually I heard soft steps behind me and saw the man, his smile decayed. He said quite sourly that I was lucky he came back for me and that he would not walk with me again, for I was much too slow. His pace was faster now- almost a sprint. My feet hurt and I realized my shoe’s soles had crumbled away, exposing my feet to the strange multicolored ground. The pseudo-soil seemed to tug at my feet like magnets but the pull only gave me more adrenaline to drive me. In my panic I tumbled and once my hands touched the ground I knew standing would not be an option. I crawled like a sickened creature at the brink of death, scraping my knees and digging my nails into the rainbow I called soil. As I was about to collapse and accept a strange demise I thrust myself landing on a muddy puddle. Engulfed in true earth my pores burned and my head split open with the mother of all headaches. I wanted to bash my body into a tree to make it stop. I screamed for the man to come help me, but he was long gone. Thinking the mud is what afflicted me, I tried to get it off while wrestling the temptation to bash my head in. It’s only now I am realizing that I am what is wrong. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out, I barely had the reserves to write this, please help me.-Jenny Welks, August 6th 1986
