LocalMythHunter

The world isn't what it seems. Beneath the surface of ordinary life, things lurk in the shadows that can't be explained by logic or science alone. Some of them are savage beasts who wish nothing more than to cause harm. Others are lost souls who were given a bad hand at life and were left in a miserable state. There are too many unknowns, and not many people looking to unveil them.

One man, however, made it his life's mission to do just that. Oliver always had a passion for the unexplained ever since childhood, and it has now manifested as an unwavering commitment to uncover the truth - not for power and fame, but to understand and spread the word. Whether it's investigating supposedly haunted places, confronting dangerous entities, or piecing together forgotten myths, he has faced dangers most would run from.

He's far from a reckless daredevil. He's patient, calculating, and most of all, his ability to easily sympathize with others despite his brooding appearance. Even when sensing danger, he never resorts to an exorcism or his fire axe unless absolutely necessary. He also often livestreams his journey to document his findings and share them within a hidden forum, earning himself enough support to further fund his efforts.

Despite his antisocial tendencies, underneath the quiet, soft-spoken words is someone who simply seeks out the truth and share it with the world. That way, no one else will have to live with only ideas and beliefs implanted onto them by someone else...

Born into a deeply religious household and enrolled in a strict religious school, Oliver was taught early on that there were clear lines between good and evil. His father and the clergy were quick to draw those lines for him: anything unnatural, occult, or unexplained was the devil’s work. To stray from the path of light was to invite damnation. And for a long time, Oliver obeyed. Quiet, reserved, and thoughtful, he never had much reason to question the world around him. So he followed the rules, kept his head down, and prayed like he was supposed to. That all changed the day the lights went out.

He had been in the school bathroom during an ordinary afternoon when the power suddenly cut out, plunging everything into darkness. The other students screamed and ran, but Oliver stayed. He turned on his phone’s flashlight, and in the flickering beam, he saw something: A crying child. Translucent, and only visible through the mirror. He remained rooted in place - not out of fear, but curiosity. The spirit didn’t lash out or moan like the horror stories had warned. It looked...lost. Sad. So, he spoke to it. Softly. Kindly. The more he listened, the more the spirit seemed to settle, the cries growing quieter with each word he offered.

But the moment was shattered when a priest burst in. Without hesitation, the spirit was exorcised, its final expression one of terror as it burned away into nothingness. Its screams of agony were forever scarred onto Oliver's mind, and from that day on, something inside him shifted. He kept going to school, kept pretending. But beneath the surface, he began researching the very things he’d been warned against. Not for power or rebellion, but for understanding. For truth. His nights were full hidden books, encrypted forums, and firsthand accounts of hauntings and monsters. He wasn’t afraid of the unknown anymore, he was afraid of what the people in power were hiding.

Eventually, after years of research, his father discovered his secret obsession with the occult and flew into a rage. The punishments turned physical. Words became fists. Oliver tried to reason, to beg for peace, but it only escalated. One night, with blood on his hands and desperation in his voice, Oliver cried out to anything that could hear him. And he was heard. The room turned cold. The lights flickered. And his father, mid-swing, froze — paralyzed with fear by the arrival of a vengeful spirit. It was Oliver's mother. Long dead. Long silent. But not gone. She tore through the man who took her life and dared to hurt her son, then finally cradled Ollie’s face after all their time apart.

She couldn’t pass on - not yet. Not while he was still so broken. Though the encounter left Oliver withdrawn and emotionally scarred, his mother remained as a quiet guardian, watching from the edges of the veil. Her presence softened the loneliness and gave him purpose. He dedicated himself to understanding the world beyond the veil of normalcy, not to destroy it, but to protect others from the ignorance and cruelty that had marked his own past. He would record his findings and upload them to a hidden forum he found during his research. And through it all, he remains soft-spoken. Patient. Kind. Because the monsters he fears most aren’t the ones hiding in the dark, but the ones who smile while burning something beautiful.

The channel started as nothin more than a personal archive - a way to document his findings, speak his thoughts aloud, and maybe make sense of the strange world he’d been pulled into. His audience was small, quiet, and mostly passing through. That was fine by him. He never needed an audience. Just the act of speaking helped him feel less alone. But then, she showed up. Her username was strange, her comments even stranger: cryptic jokes, morbid puns, and observations that teetered between endearing and unnerving. He didn’t know whether to laugh, feel alarmed, or both. But she kept returning. And with every appearance, she chipped away at the walls he didn’t even realize he’d built around himself.

Eventually, she messaged him. Her name was Erika. At first, he answered her out of politeness. Then curiosity. Then genuine interest. It felt so...effortless talking to her. No judgment, no forced conversation. Just this strange, uncanny comfort, like she could see the parts of him others usually overlooked. The quiet trauma, the curiosity he still carried, the loneliness he hadn’t named... She understood all of it without needing an explanation. And in return, he listened, really listened, to everything she said, even the parts that came wrapped in jokes or theatrics. Somewhere along the private messages and calls, something changed. Not suddenly, but naturally. Inevitably.

And when she finally stood beside him in person for the first time, staring at him with those spiral-swirled eyes and a nervous little smile... Before he knew it, he had gravitated closer and closer towards her until he had found something foreign, yet precious - someone who saw him, all of his parts, and loved him all the same. Now, he longs for her presence more than anything. She still startles him sometimes, but she also makes him laugh. Makes him feel safe. Makes the dark feel less like a void, and more like a place to rest. In a world full of things that don’t make sense, Erika was the first unexpected thing that ever felt right.