I Am The One

April 24, 2014 at 12:00 AM
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I’ve thought about telling this story for quite a while now, and first and foremost I want to inform you from the very beginning that everything I am about to write is true. I will not be adding anything for the sake of the story, nor will I be using stupid stereotypical buzz words to make this seem more terrifying. All I’ll be doing is telling the truth, that’s all I want to do.

So, I’ll start from the beginning and give a little background. When I was a kid, I began realizing I had a little insight on what was going to happen before it did. Now, by that I mean I sometimes knew what some kid in the class would say next whilst bothering the teacher, or I knew when the phone was going to ring. That sort of thing. I didn’t think much of it as a sweet ten or eleven year old, I just saw it as pretty cool I guess. Then came on the feelings of “I’ve been here before” whenever I went new places, I could never remember when though. I began getting deja vu regularly, which would last maybe ten or fifteen minutes. I’d usually sit back in awe and quietly mouth everything everyone was saying. As I got older, I began referring to it as a ‘sensitivity’ I had. It wasn’t until I was about fourteen I realized I also had this ‘sensitivity’ to spirits.

I live in Ireland, so during the famous Celtic Tiger my parents went all out on a beautiful 250 year old house. I mean knocking down sections, rebuilding, re-roofing, repainting, everything! We got to pick our own rooms. I chose the attic. It was terrifying at first, but once we rebuilt it a bit, painted it, re-floored it and all that good stuff it looked pretty fantastic. The only part of the room that still bothered me was the small hatch in the ceiling up into a small boiler room. Just looking at gave me a bad feeling from the beginning, so I had placed my wardrobe under it and put stuffed animals on top to cover it up so I wouldn’t have to see it. The first night in that room was quite intense, all through the night I heard scratches and banging coming from the boiler room. I put it down to being ‘new house noises’. Until I heard footsteps run across the ceiling. Over and over again. This happened every night. I remember mentioning it to my father, he laughed and said ‘unless there’s a 4ft tall person living up there you’re not hearing anything’ followed by the famous ‘you’re probably just dreaming’. I knew I wasn’t. This did freak me out a lot, but surprisingly I just got used to it and ignored it.

I began noticing strange things happening in my room, little things. My wardrobe doors would be open, i’d close them and go downstairs, come back up and they’d be open again. ‘Probably just a slant in the floor’ my father concluded. Ornaments around my room would be in different positions, that sort of thing. Then came the feeling of being watched, watched very carefully. For every second I spent in that room I could feel someone or somethings eyes burning into me. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but I tried to get on with things. It wasn’t long until I began getting night terrors. I saw horrible things, things i would not like to ever see again. However the fact they were dreams made it less traumatizing, albeit slightly disturbing. My mother told me she would hear wails in the middle of the night, she’d get out of bed to find me standing outside my door, screeching and crying, she’d ask me what’s wrong but i’d simply shake my head and lower my chin to my chest. I don’t remember any of the crying. When I was told I was doing this I was pretty freaked out, something like that had never ever happened to me before. I began feeling a bit down being in that house, specifically my bedroom. Each night I’d find myself thinking about how sad I was, which again, was odd for me because I had never had any problems, I was always a happy kid. However it was to get worse. I’ll never forget the night it all went downhill.

It was just a regular night I guess, and I had gone to bed and fallen asleep. I woke suddenly in the middle of the night, within a second of waking up I was overcome with terror and dread. I felt something watching me again, only this time, I saw it. I slowly turned my head to the left of me and there I saw it, a dark black figure staring at me. It’s head was cocked forward from it’s body looking down at me. I thought I was dreaming so I sat up, blinked and rubbed my eyes. No such luck. It was still there, only it looked as shocked as I was. It jolted back (perhaps when it realized I could see it?) and slithered down the side of my bed, across the bottom of my bed, as disappeared into the darkness. I couldn’t do anything, only sit there in terror and weep quietly. I had never been so scared. I stayed on the couch for a few days after that, and avoided my bedroom completely. I changed after that night, I couldn’t eat and I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t do anything, I was just a terrified mess. It wasn’t long before I decided enough was enough and braved the room once again. Due to sheer exhaustion, I managed to fall asleep on my bed for what felt like five minutes before waking abruptly. It was there again, only this time it’s ‘face’ was directly opposite mine. This time though it was in broad daylight, as I had only managed sleep at about six am. I think it’s fair to say I shat my pants.

Some time passed, and I’m not sure how thinking back on it, but I did manage to brush all this off, and I did continue to stay in that room. It was quiet for a while, but before long I began waking with cuts on my body, slices in my skin, mostly on my back and shoulder blades. Each night as I tried to sleep I felt some invisible force clasp my neck, it got harder to breathe each night. I became very depressed, finding myself sitting awake at all hours, knowing I was being watched and contemplating just ending my life. That bedroom became a pit of despair.

My father was and still is to this day very skeptical of me and my stories, my mother not so much. She got frightened by what had been happening, and insisted we call the parish priest [typically Irish I know.] Although I’m not religious in any way, I sort reached the stage of ‘Fuck it, I’ll try anything’ so I went ahead with it. The priest called over, he read whatever it is they read in situations like these, splashed holy water everywhere and stuck a cross he got from the Vatican in Rome up in the room. That wasn’t enough for me, since I wasn’t religious I felt it was hypocritical of me to believe that would work, so I just moved rooms. I’m still terrified of that attic, and have only been in there for brief moments when I’ve had to be since. I just assumed the attic was haunted, and left it at that.

The new room was fine, I was more or less fine for about a year (still slightly traumatized might I add)and I thought that was it, until I moved into a new house for college, and it all started again..

I moved towns for college, and found a perfect house with some of my very good friends. I had hoped to put everything that happened in my home town to rest, I was very optimistic about my fresh start. I moved to a really historic city, and the house I live in now is about 150 years old. The first night myself and my house mates stayed there we were unsettled by scratching noises coming from the walls. We put it down to ‘new house noises’ (I should have known better right?) and brushed it off. We ignored the nightly banging and scratching. One day I decided to bring it up due to something that I thought was a bit strange. I explained that I was in bed one night, trying to sleep when I felt my body jerking slightly, as if something was pulling on my quilt. I expected them to laugh, but one of my housemates sat up and explained the strange experience he had only nights before. He said he was in his room, trying to go asleep and he had had his feet hanging over the end of the bed. He said he was just asleep when something grabbed onto his foot. He said he pulled his legs up to his chest and lay there for a while, pretty shaken. We all went a bit quiet then, and just gazed around the house, getting more and more creeped out.

It wasn’t long before shit hit the fan in the house. At six am every morning I heard a light wailing coming from one corner in my bedroom and every morning I put my head to the wall to listen. Every time I called my housemates to hear it, it stopped. Typically. I think they started to think I was going crazy. It took a long time before they heard it as well. I was pretty relived when they said the words ‘yeah I hear it too’ because I was beginning to question my sanity. There was then daily banging from the kitchen, switches flicking on and off and the likes. We kind of just laughed it off all the time. I knew something was up though when I saw a black figure again. I had been sitting on the couch and could see into the kitchen from the corner of my eye. I happened to catch a glimpse of it, staring in at me. I looked over quickly, it was gone. I ignored it and decided not to say anything. I didn’t get too freaked out [since I was kind of used to it at that point I guess] but I lost it slightly when one of my housemates let something slip. We were all at a party and one of my housemates turned to me and said something along the lines of can you believe what our other housemate saw the other night. I had no idea what he was talking about, so I confronted the other guy. He sighed and explained how he didn’t want me to be scared and wasn’t going to say anything, but went on to tell me how he saw a black figure in the bathroom. I wondered if it was the same black figure I saw. We were all very wary in the house from then on.

Then came the night it all went downhill (again). It was only me and my housemate who had seen the black figure, the other had returned home for the weekend. We were both in the living room working on college stuff when we heard a bang. We both stopped and looked at each other with that ‘aw shit’ look. We knew it was starting again. Only this time it was much more intense. There was banging coming from all sides of the house. It was like someone was quickly moving around the entire house banging the walls and stomping on the floor. This went on for a few minutes as we sat there in terror. Then it stopped and the banging continued from just one area of the house, my room. We were kind of in that stage of nervously laughing and looking around. I had been sitting on the couch, and my housemate was sitting opposite me on a bean bag. He was saying something to me when his face dropped, he went completely white and just stared beyond my shoulder. I asked him what was wrong. All he said was we needed to get out of that room now, and that I wasn’t to sleep in my room tonight since the banging was still coming from there. I calmly asked him what did he see. He ignored me, just gathered our stuff and began going into the other room. I stopped him and calmly asked again, what did you see. He was looking past me again, and explained how he saw a black figure, sliding across the wall directly behind me. We both left that room and locked ourselves into his. We just sat there for a while in silence.

I began thinking about all the freaky shit that has gone on in my short life span, I began thinking about the significance of these black figures, and began wondering if there was multiple black figures or if it was all the same one. The same black figure I woke up to that night years ago.

That was when it dawned on me for the first time, maybe I am the one who is haunted.

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April 21, 2014 at 12:00 AM
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By: Ben Meadows

First of all, I want to clarify that I cared about the people in this account that were taken from me very deeply. Their screams and spirits haunt me to this day. To their families, I promise you, when I find the thing responsible for the atrocities in this story; it will pay for the lives it has destroyed.

The blazing sun beat down on my neck as we walked. It had to be at least a hundred degrees and the Kentucky humidity didn’t help the situation. My National Guard unit was drilling out at Fort Knox in the summer and we were on our last day of training for the month in the woods near one of the shooting ranges. The other medics and I had already qualified with weapons and were winding down with some conversation. The same usual bullshit, talking about late nights getting hammered drunk and every aspect of the sexual encounters we had experienced during the month prior; there was also the occasional spousal joke thrown in between. My friends, Specialist Jeremy North and Private Austin Rivers had been by my side the entire time. We were relatively new at our unit and always got picked on accordingly, so we stuck together most of the time. It was about high noon and we were trying to think of ways to pass the time. The card games were getting old and the batteries were dead on our smart phones, so there wasn’t really much else we could think of to do other than walk around and shoot the shit.
“So how’s your woman doing, Red? Tell her she needs to give me her new number.” North said to me slyly with that ear to ear grin he had. “I’ll tell her she needs to renew her restraining order.” I retorted as I punched him in the arm. Rivers just snorted that goofy laugh he had and followed it up with something incoherent as expected. We walked over to the concrete building that housed the weapons to see if we could find someone to talk to or possibly charge our cell phones. Inside was Staff Sergeant Wake, a former Active Duty soldier who had made the switch to the Guard after eight years of service. “How’s it going, Sergeant?” asked Rivers, as he closed the door behind us. “Hot as hell, boring as hell, and tired as hell” he replied. I hadn’t seen Sergeant Wake all day and that was a good thing. He probably would have given us some kind of bullshit work to do so we would look somewhat productive in front of the officers from the other companies there.

We exited the building from there, realizing that we were dangerously close to receiving some kind of task and began walking back to our tent. The tents were large and green with big flaps on all sides, as if they would have looked any different being Army tents. From there we met about twenty-five other medics and started to pack all of the equipment up: the tents, M16’s, sleeping bags, and anything else that would have taken a while to put away, as we were hoping to leave before daylight in the morning to drive back down to southern Kentucky where our headquarters was. After this long and tedious process, I started to pack all of my personal things into my ruck. My other uniform that had been buried under my sleeping bag was still soaked with sweat from the day before. The name tag read “Winters” although my friends and everyone else at my unit affectionately referred to me as “Red” due to my unusually bright red hair. Rivers looked to me and asked if I would start separating my stuff from his because he had to take a leak, and I obliged. The temperature was getting to everyone. A chorus of frustrated grunts of the other medics trying to reform objects down to their smallest possible size before shoving them into their bags surrounded me.
I looked up into the tree line and smiled, though. I loved the woods and nature for the most part. I was raised in the woods and was always taught to respect the Earth. It’s hard to describe the feeling I get when I’m alone with nothing but the green canopies of leaves above.
Later on, as the sun started to advertise its departure from the sky, an orange glow slowly became more visible and the air started to cool down as well as become dryer.
My friends and I settled on the cots we had placed earlier and waited for the inevitable brief we were going to get from Sergeant Wake about what we needed to do to get out of there as quickly as possible without getting “hung up in more brass bullshit” or something of that nature.
One of the other medics, named Robinson and I were talking about recent news about video games, movies, and TV shows when a sudden realization hit me. I looked over at North who was sitting on his cot with his forehead in his hands rubbing it like he had a headache. “Hey North, have you seen Rivers?” I asked in an unconcerned but curious tone. “Nope, he must have gone to the latrine or something.” This answer didn’t satisfy me. He had been gone for at least two hours and it was getting too dark to be doing anything productive. I looked over at his ruck and saw that it was half empty with some of his things lying around it in a sloppy configuration the way I had left it. I ended my conversation with Robinson and started looking around the camp. I asked ten other people if they had seen him and at this point a concerned North was accompanying me. “He can’t be too far from here.” I said, this time in a concerned manner. “We’ll give it another hour and if he’s not back by then, we’ll tell someone” said North who shared the same apathetic tone as me. We weren’t the over reactive types and just assumed he had found an outlet for his phone or something.
About forty-five minutes later, Sergeant Wake called us all over for a head count. North and I were genuinely concerned for Rivers at this point, not for his safety, but we feared that he might get in trouble if he missed the head count. We told Sergeant Wake about the situation and he sighed, pinching the skin between his eyes at the bridge of his nose. “Had to be one of you fucking new guys” he groaned in an irritated tone. He called all of the medics over and gave us specific instructions not to tell anyone outside of our detachment because if we could find Rivers before tomorrow, no one would have to get punished; he was a nice guy in that way. I was starting to get really worried at this point. Rivers was a sensible guy and this wasn’t like him to just run off like this. We spread out amongst the woods in different directions in 3 man teams. It was getting really dark now and the chances of finding him were getting slimmer as the chances of us getting lost were growing. It had to be around 23:00 and each hour that passed made me grow more concerned for my friend. North and I exchanged glances of doubt and it seemed like we both knew that this wasn’t going to end well. We ducked under tree limbs and crunched the dirt under our feet as we made our way through the unfamiliar woods. We were walking at a pretty fast pace until we reached the mouth of a wide cave adjacent to a creek that seemed really out of place for the terrain. The other man that accompanied us was PFC Terrence Hale and he wasn’t afraid to vent his frustration of the whole situation towards us. “He’s your buddy; why the fuck did you let him run off? I mean, seriously, haven’t you ever heard of Murphy’s fucking Law.” Hale whined in a nasally voice. I just shook my head and proceeded into the cave with a flashlight. The air in the cave was cool and moist, a relief from the summer heat outside. The three of us made our way further inside and continued our search, hoping Rivers would show his face sooner rather than later. Behind me were North and Hale looking in opposite directions of the cave as I looked straight ahead. Hale was still extremely agitated. “I can’t believe this shit, this has never happened before. I swear, if we find him and he’s just fucking with us I will be so fucking..” He trailed off. I saw him stop and hold his breath as he backed away from what had just seen. A feeling of dread crept up on me as possibilities roared through my head. I didn’t want to look; I really, really didn’t want to look. I pointed my flashlight hesitantly over to what had Hale so shocked and vomited. There lying on the ground in a pile was Rivers, or what was left of him. His torso was ripped wide open exposing his lungs and heart and his stomach and other organs looked like they had been eaten away. What once was the face of one of my best friends was now a pit of flesh dug into the semicircle that was his head. And that was all I had the stomach to look at. While we were American soldiers and had been trained to deal with shocking sights.. This.. This was nothing like I had ever experienced. I was sure that this was certainly a very large bear or.. Or a mountain lion or something that had done this, but I was very wrong, so very, very wrong.
Hale let out a scream and North just stood there in shock as we tried to gain our wits. We had to get the fuck back to camp and tell everyone what had happened. We were starting out of the cave when we heard it; the low, bellowing moan of the thing that inhabited the cave. I froze; I had never been so disturbed in my entire life to hear a sound. It was accompanied by footsteps that mushed the clay and mud underneath it. As it approached, I began to smell the odor of decay, the pungent stench of something reminiscent of a dead animal. North and Hale began shining their flashlights in the direction the sound was coming from and Hale dropped his when we all saw it. An enormous, disgusting, humanoid creature took up the entire entrance to another chamber of the cave. It glanced over at us and began taking several awkward steps towards us. The more I saw of it, the more I wanted to vomit the rest of my dinner. Its stomach was swollen with the remains of Rivers it and walked on two long, hairy legs. The entire thing was covered in thick, matted hair from head to toe and its long, wide arms ended in two skinny hands with sickeningly long fingers that were reminiscent of a spider’s legs. The creature had to be at least eight feet tall standing upright and weigh at least a ton. It appeared neither male nor female and had a head that resembled something close to an emaciated deer or a goat with huge, gaping maw that housed several dull, bloody teeth several inches apart and pitch black eyes. Slimy saliva dripped from its mouth and I could smell the disgusting odor of my friend’s remains on its breath. Hale fainted when he realized what he had seen. I wanted to as well but I fought it as hard as I could. And then the room started to spin..

I can remember the blurry scene of North and I trying to drag Hale out of the cave as that thing.. That monster grabbed his legs and easily won the tug of war between us. As it got a hold of him, it lifted his body up by one leg towards its enormous mouth and in one crunching display bit his entire head off before proceeding to rip his limbs off individually. North and I started to fire at it with our M16’s but to no effect. It merely flinched at the rounds and looked as if it wasn’t even bleeding. We pounded through the woods towards our camp using pure adrenaline to push us. We had made it pretty far away from the cave, but something suddenly slammed into North hard and he fell. I heard the sickening crunch of his ankle breaking accompanied by his scream of pain. I tried to pick him up and carry him but I was still reeling from what had just happened and fell down myself. I eventually managed to lift him onto my back before I was struck with a large rock to my back. I lay there in agony, my back felt like it was broken and I could barely breathe. I barely had time to process what had happened before I turned over to witness another horrific sight. I watched as North was dragged away from me by his legs at incredible speed by the abomination. I picked up my weapon and fired every shot I had left in my clip above him at the thing that was dragging him away but still the creature seemed apathetic to my rounds. As it all happened, North’s gaze met mine; what can only be described as a look of sheer hell filled his dark eyes as he was pulled faster and faster away, screaming.

Now I’m not proud of what I did, but I turned around and I ran. I ran as fast as I could with my weapon in my hand, sweating profusely, and breathing so hard I thought my lungs would collapse. When I finally reached the camp, I broke down and balled uncontrollably. All of the other medics had already returned and could barely gather my story through the tears of agony. “In the cave..” I said and simply pointed in the direction I came from and fifteen of the others ran off into the woods. I begged them not to go, to wait until daylight but they wouldn’t. They grabbed everything we had at our camp and bolted into the tree line.

The next morning was a hazy blur. The men that had gone into the woods returned with three M16’s and a single, blood-stained combat boot. “We went to that cave he talked about” said McKenzie, a Sergeant who had accompanied them. “We found their weapons and a ton of blood, but none of the bodies or the thing that attacked them.” I was asked to submit a report of what happened, and I tried my best to explain the events but no one would believe what I truly saw. We eventually left two days later and as I got into the back of one of the HMMWVs, I took one last look at the tree line. A blackish brown dot stood in between two large trees. I squinted hard at it and it became clearer. The monster that had taken my friends faced me for a moment before turning around and vanishing into the woods moving with incredible speed for its size.

After that, I wasn’t able to sleep more than a few hours at a time. I was constantly bombarded by visions and nightmares of the abomination coming after me to finish its work. I did a ton of research on the thing and the closest thing I could find was something called the Wendigo, which is a Native American legend about a creature that has an insatiable appetite for human flesh. I had no idea what the fuck this thing was or how to kill it. The entire experience had turned my world upside down and I was making it a point to move away from Kentucky and as far away as possible once my military contract was finished.

The following night, I looked out my window and saw something that sent a violent chill down my spine. I live in the woods with only a couple neighbors who were out of town, and my girlfriend was out visiting her parents, so I was the only one in the neighborhood. As I stared into the darkness, I saw the disgusting deer head of the creature with its mouth gaping wide open. I instantly jumped up and grabbed my Remington 12 gauge along with a box of shells. I said a prayer, clutched the cross I always wore around my neck and ran out to meet the creature. It had moved from its original spot. I grabbed my flashlight and headed towards its direction but stopped myself. “That’s exactly what it wants.” I said to myself. I went back up into my living room, picked up my phone and called the police. I made up some bullshit story about a home invasion so they would actually come. I was not going to let this thing kill me or my girlfriend. I started back onto the porch to keep an eye one the thing but it had moved again. This time I panicked. It’s somewhere close and I had no idea where. I ran all around my property looking for it and eventually gave up. I returned inside and resigned to waiting for the police. At this point, my head was pulsating and my eyes started to become blurry again. I collapsed on the floor and looked up to see the creature standing about five feet away from me on all four legs, it reached out to me with its mutant hands but I managed to gain the strength to get up and run. I sprinted outside and collapsed in the driveway which ran parallel to a steep decline that led into the woods. The monster, now walking bipedal became more visible in the light of my porch. It was a greyish color with wrinkled skin as if it had been soaking in water for days. Its matted hair contained bits of blood and flesh from its past victims and its face was what terrified me the most. Its disgusting Baphomet face housed black eyes that revealed to be pits of where eyes should have been, which led me to believe that the creature relied off of its senses of hearing and smell to hunt. It crouched over my body and wrapped one long, bony hand around my face. Its skin felt like that of a squid’s, and the smell made me want to vomit.

“This is it.” I thought. “My life is over.” My survival from weeks earlier was just prolonging my death at the hands of this monster. It lifted me up with its second hand now wrapped around my torso as it moved to take a bite out of my neck when it suddenly stopped.

The sound of police sirens was now very close. The thing apparently didn’t like large groups of people and didn’t want to get caught. It dropped me to the concrete and started slinking its way back into the woods, but I wasn’t going to let it get away that easy. I ran as hard as I could and jumped down the decline after the creature. I barreled into the thing with all 200 pounds of my body weight and sent it careening down the hill. It was pissed now, and starting running back up the hill towards me with shocking speed, I barely had enough time to let out a buck shot right into its mouth as a slimy substance similar to pus shot out of the creature. I had hurt it! The creature wasn’t pleased and grabbed me with both disgusting hands. It immobilized me as it began slowly lowering its gaping wide mouth towards my head. I fought it as hard as I could but to no avail.

Seconds away from certain death, I started praying. I prayed harder than I ever had before and the creature stopped and threw me down. It backed away writhing in pain like I had seriously damaged it. I began praying again “My father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.” and starting walking towards it, blasting at it with the shotgun, each shot putting pus-oozing holes into its stomach and neck. As I advanced, the creature turned around and ran faster than it had in our previous encounter into the woods. I screamed at it with tears rolling down my eyes as it limped away through the trees with its impossibly big body.

The past few weeks have hard. I’ve been to three funerals, gone through several police investigations, and I’ve barely been able to sleep. I rented a cabin far away from my girlfriend until this is all over; I’m convinced that the abomination has marked me, and I refuse to be the cause of her death as well. As far as she knows, I’m visiting some friends down in Tennessee. Now the thing not only threatens me physically but also in my dreams. I wake up some nights, screaming about the things I see. I know as well as it does that this is not over and that it will come back for me. I can only speculate on how much time I have left. I want this to be a written record for anyone who may find it if I don’t make it out alive this time. If I’m never seen or heard from again, tell the Winters family that I love them very much, and tell Jessyca Small that I never had the courage to ask her, but I was planning to make her my wife someday. There’s a thunderstorm outside, and I can see the shape of a figure between the lightning strikes. I would have been able to dismiss it as a trick of the mind, but there’s one inescapable thing I noticed about what I just saw- the glint of service tags wrapped around its wrist…

Credit To – Ben Meadows

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The Shadow Beneath Whelford

April 18, 2014 at 12:00 AM
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December 25th, 1976. 11:00 PM. Christmas was winding down for most residents of Whelford. For its burgeoning police department however, the night was just beginning. A call had been received reporting flashing lights and loud noises coming from the abandoned coal mine, which lay just inside the border separating Whelford from the neighboring hamlets. The captain at the time, John Ford, had driven out to investigate along with another officer, anticipating nothing more than a group of teenagers out on a dare. Christopher Raymond was not included amongst the original dispatch, though he wished he had been. Most of his coworkers would’ve relished a day off on Christmas, but for the newly recruited officer, what should have been a day of merriment and celebration had, as per usual, turned into an excuse for his family to rag him out for his life choices. “Why would you ever leave Boston for this cow town? Why did you marry that Mexican whore? Why haven’t you and the whore given me a grandchild?” They never came to visit of course. It was a matter of principle for the elder statesmen of the Raymond family to avoid the perceived filth of Whelford. The lack of a physical presence from the parents didn’t make the obligatory Christmas phone call any less insufferable. The worst part of it was that his family was correct in at least one of their assumptions. Why had he up and left a promising position in a big city organization for a tiny no-name town out west? His wife’s status as a Mexican citizen didn’t bother him as much, and he was in no hurry to produce an heir to the now “corrupted” Raymond line, but the initial question still gave him pause. So when Christopher’s phone rang at 11:20 PM, with a frantic sounding sergeant practically begging him to drive down to the office for briefing, it was less of an unpleasant interruption and more of a godsend.

30 minutes later, Acting Captain Christopher Raymond was on the scene at Cunningham Mine. Everything was shaping up very conveniently for him to play hero. Both members of the original investigative team sent to the mine had completely lost contact with the outside world. The new recruits from Worcester and Boston were not arriving for another few days. And out of all available field agents, he had been summoned to follow up on this case. As he approached the mine, Christopher knew he had to force the uncomfortable sense that this was all too good to be true out of his brain. He was finally getting a chance to prove himself! An opportunity to get his foot in the door in this still foreign environment! Still, “that feeling” remained. The feeling that despite everything falling into alignment, something was off. It was a sort of paranoia that was a key tool in any effective policeman’s belt, yet it was especially pronounced for this occasion. “No time to worry now.” The officer’s thoughts dug their way through his brain and out his mouth for the first time in a very long while. He was quite correct in his assumption. The gaping maw of the mineshaft awaited him.

The scene that lay before the new captain as he entered the mine would not have been out of place in a geological freak show. The mineshaft was constantly shifting, wide to narrow, tall to compact. Every now and again a faint rumbling could be heard from somewhere deep below his current position, but this was the only thing he had noticed thus far that was even close to a clue. The more he wandered, the further he threw himself into the guts of the Earth, the more Christopher wanted to return to the surface. He was normally unfazed by the darker places of the world, but Cunningham Mine had a certain bleakness about it which chilled him to the core. Still, there was a job to be done, and he was not going to leave until his compatriots had been found. Taking a left at a rotting support pillar, Christopher called out, “Officer Ford! Officer Shepard!” His request for the missing officers’ presence yielded no reply. Right turn. The once-blinding cone of vision provided by the flashlight was now beginning to dim. Onwards, onwards, onwards, down into the endless, twisting halls of the mine. Faster now. “Officer Ford!” A rumble from below. “Officer Shepard!” A scraping noise from behind. Another right. And another scrape. Something was here. Down a slope. Faster. He could hear a squelching sound, closer than before. It was closing in. Christopher whipped around, gun in hand and…nothing. He turned forwards and began to run, then stopped himself. Had to stay calm. He began to explore once again, more prudently this time. Diligence and patience were key in these situations. Left. “Officer Ford!” Still nothing. Christopher rounded a bend and found himself facing a long hallway, a faint light at the end. Finally, a breakthrough. Once again, he began to run. As the light closed in, it became clear that this was the entrance to a room. A safe haven. And if luck was on his side, some answers. The light drew closer and closer, until finally – “Jesus Christ!” Officer Raymond skidded to a stop at the entrance of the room. Something was not quite right.

It was a bizarre sight indeed. Before him lay an abyss, the likes of which he had never seen before. It couldn’t have been a dynamite blast from long ago, gone badly wrong – the gap in the ground was almost ethereal in nature. The stone which made up these walls was different than the pale granite that comprised the rest of the mine. This made the smears of bright red strewn across them all the more striking. Pentagrams, pentacles, and far more ancient insignias from a dark, lost age adorned the sides of the artificial cavern. A doorway across the pit led deeper into the mine, but this chasm was clearly an impassable obstacle; a detour would need to be found. As Christopher cautiously wheeled around, taking care not to lose his footing, a muffled cry came from above. He shifted his gaze to the ceiling, and suddenly, the mission was complete. The missing officers had been found. Dangling from the top of the room was a sea of sickly-green pods, each containing the body of an individual who had found himself unlucky enough to venture into this primordial chamber. Hundreds of the pods, mashed together, swayed back and forth in the nonexistent breeze. Christopher could do nothing but stare, paralyzed by consternation, as the abominable container closest to him was ripped open slowly, the material comprising it stretching and straining against itself like a revolting sheet of plastic film. From inside of the shell emerged former Whelford Police Captain John Ford. Initially bewildered by his surroundings, Ford quickly remembered the purpose of his escape.
“Raymond! Get the hell out of here! They’re-” The ex-captain was cut off by a droning, guttural groan stemming from the hole which he swung perilously over. “Just go! It’s too late for us!” As if to prove Ford wrong, dozens of other pods began to open. Unbelievably, the bodies of the miners who had initially stumbled upon this unfortunate room had been perfectly preserved. Their wails echoed through the room and down the hallway – “Help! Help!” “For the love of God, get me out!” “Save us!” Their rapid movements only worsened their situation- one by one the pods dropped like icicles into the abyss. With each falling pod, the hideous noises from the pit became louder, and began to shake the room with increasing measures of violence. Yet still, Christopher was rooted to his spot. An unnatural gust blew in from the hallway behind him, and he was momentarily engulfed in a blinding cloud of smoke. Just as suddenly, the smoke cleared, the cavern was still and silent once more, and from the apex of the room, a booming voice both angelic and demonic, divine and unholy, rang out to address Christopher with three simple words – “Don’t look down.” This was enough to snap him out of his reverie. The pods were falling at a faster rate; the whole mine seemed to be collapsing. Ford was right. It was time to leave. Christopher bolted back down the hallway, feverishly working up an escape plan. Left turn. Right turn. Another left. The violence of the quaking seemed to increase tenfold with each passing second. Everything was slowing down. The hallways were spinning. Well aware that he was losing consciousness, Christopher attempted to stumble just a bit further, but to no avail. He fell to his knees, desperately grasping for a last moment of life. His vision blurred. His mind emptied. A shadowy figure skulked forward from the end of the hall. The blackness seeped in. And the mine was no more.

How Christopher had managed to end up in his bed by 7 the next morning was a mystery only to him. According to his fellow officers, he had never left it. There was no “John Ford” or “Haley Shepard”, nor had there ever been at the Whelford Police Department. The mine had been caved in for decades now, and Christopher had never gone there to investigate anything. He hadn’t come into work in the past few days in fact, and it was a relief to find out that he was okay.

This, at least, was the story he got. The town had a certain stillness to it that it had lacked before. The rowdy were docile, the children had calmed, and by the time he returned from grocery shopping that afternoon, Christopher knew that something was wrong. He had to have been to the mine. All of the memories were so vivid. This merited further investigation. Upon arriving at the mine for (supposedly) the first time however, the story perpetuated by those down at the station seemed true. A heap of rubble and wood blocked the entrance to the mine completely. He strolled up to the ruined doorway. Maybe he was just going crazy. But he had to be certain. His ear pressed up against the cool stone. And in a flash, his suspicions were confirmed. In that instant, Christopher Raymond ran from Cunningham Mine and never looked back. It may have been a trick of the mind, or perhaps just the wind. But from that point on, he would never deny that he heard something when he placed his ear up to the entrance of that accursed mine – the piercing screams of those still trapped in the recesses of a place that something beyond time, or space, or human comprehension called home.

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Out of Body Experience

April 17, 2014 at 12:00 AM
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My life ended in mid-December, the 17th to be exact. I survived a little after that, but that was the last day I lived freely.

I was goofing off on the internet that day, kind of flicking through my newsfeed, reading interesting news stories, that sort of thing. Sometime after one thirty, I found an article on lucid dreaming and out of body experiences.

I skimmed through the article. The author mentioned astral projections and plane walking a couple of times, and other similar terms. I’m not a hardcore naturalist who believes that everything has a natural explanation, but telepathically visiting alternate planes seems far-fetched, especially when it comes from someone trying to sell you something. Still, I was interested. It sounded similar to lucid dreaming, which I’d had fun with once or twice. I thought of them as just a biological glitch.

It’s not like it’d be a challenge to find how-to guides for out of body experiences on the internet, so I won’t bother being super-secretive about it. The goal of out of body experiences is to get your body to go to sleep while retaining consciousness. When you go to sleep, your brain shuts off movement signals to the physical body so that you don’t hurt yourself while you dream. Out of body experiences utilize this feature of the brain to make mind think it’s moving while keeping the body stationary.

The concept arrested my mind. I couldn’t let it go, and I found myself looking forward to the night. I waited for the day to pass, and when night came, I set up safety measures; if something did go wrong, I didn’t want to be stuck in dreamland for an eternity. I set my alarm for an hour after I planned to have my out of body experience, so I wouldn’t be stuck for too long. Hopefully the sound would bring me back to my body in case I couldn’t get back.

So at eleven o’clock, I went to bed and slept. I had trouble falling asleep, but eventually I dropped off. I slept for a few hours, then woke up and went through the process of getting an out-of-body experience. Once I was ready, I took a few seconds to collect my thoughts, then tried pulling myself out of my body.

Once I started forcing myself to move, my perspective altered, and I could see myself from the side as though through a different set of eyes. I could still see with my eyes, but I had a second view from an outside perspective, watching myself. I could still feel my body, but it was distant. I forced myself to sit up and to my delight, I felt myself moving but my body remained still. Through my outside view, I could see a ghost detaching itself from my body. I was elated.

My pleased surprise only lasted a few seconds before I felt my body freeze. Just as I realized that my trick had really worked and that I had no control over my body, an amorphous red cloud filled my vision. It hovered over me for a second, then disappeared as I inhaled.

My body reacted instantly and began seizing up. The spasms made all of my muscles clench, relax, and clench again. In my trance I think I counted four convulsions every second, but I’m not sure how long they really lasted. It was terrifying; I knew I’d set my alarm clock for ninety minutes after I’d begun my lucid dream, but I couldn’t last that long. At the rate I was convulsing, it would only be a few minutes before my heart gave out.

The red cloud obscured my vision, both from the outside perspective and through my eyes, and even worse, I was paralyzed. I tried to force myself back into my body to stop my seizure, but I couldn’t get in. Then I heard the voice.

It was like a grating rumble rasping deep in its chest, but it also had an animal quality, burning with anger. Not a shrieking fury, but slow, deliberate menace.


The voice filled me with terror. I wanted to run as far from it as I could get, but I was frozen. Names had power. I didn’t want to hear it, I didn’t want to know it. Just as it spoke its name, I shouted my own name through my convulsions, drowning its voice out. It stopped speaking, as though surprised it had been interrupted. It growled softly as the red smoke began to dissipate, and I fell into my body again. My seizure stopped and I woke up.

I don’t know how long this experience lasted. I’m guessing about twelve or fifteen seconds, and probably no more than a minute. My chest hurt and my muscles trembled, but I was alive. I was rattled, but I managed to convince myself that something went wrong and I created a nightmare. Maybe my fears of what could happen surfaced subconsciously, I reasoned. Whatever the case, I decided not to exploit any more “glitches” in my nervous system and went back to bed.

I slept through the night, though I was uneasy. The next morning, I awoke and convinced myself that my experience had just been a fluke. And I had more pressing matters on my mind. It was exactly one week before Christmas and I had no idea what I was getting for my family, so I showered, dressed, and headed out the door. The events of the previous night quickly fell to the back of my mind as my car entered the rumbling traffic.

At least that part of my day was a success. I bought most of the presents for my family and girlfriend, and I just needed a few for my other friends. As I was browsing the aisles of Wal-Mart for a good pair of headphones, my arms suddenly felt like they’d been encased in ice. I jerked in surprise and the feeling vanished. As it went away, I heard a deep, indistinct whisper. There was no one nearby, unless you counted the seventy-something woman a few feet to my left. I shook my head, thinking I’d felt a draft of icy wind, and continued shopping.

I went to bed that night and found myself unintentionally entering that half-awake state, but I felt vulnerable. I didn’t want to push myself out of my body, but I felt myself slowly rising out of my body. Terror shot through me as I sensed the red smoke hovering over my body. It felt like it was trying to pull me out. As soon as I realized that, my eyes shot open and I came back to my body, shaking from fear.

I didn’t sleep that night. I knew that my oppressor was still there, and I got more tired as time wore on. I would begin to fall asleep, then jerk awake as soon as I felt myself being pulled out of my body. At first I tried to ignore it. I knew it was coming for me, but I started eating real food and drinking caffeinated drinks, which helped. Morning was an immense improvement; I didn’t feel so tired with the sun up already. As soon as it was light out, I went outside to get some winter sunshine, enjoy some Christmas movies, and finish Christmas shopping. I couldn’t hear anything through the day, but I had a feeling that I was being followed. I tried to blot the fear from my mind as I returned to my home.

I felt jittery. I knew I had to go to sleep eventually, but I didn’t want to think about it. six or seven, I began to microwave something when I began hearing the voice in my mind. I dropped the plate in my hand and it shattered.

“My… Name… Is…”

Its voice now held contempt as well as that bitter anger. I yelled my name out loud when it was about to announce its own, hoping that it would drive the demon away like last time. For a moment I thought it had gone away. I relaxed but then heard its laugh, deep and slow. It was unsettling, like hearing loud, harsh music. Its laugh rolled on for several seconds, then it spoke again.

“Your… name… is… worthless…”

“My… name… is…”

I said my name again, this time more forcefully. Its chuckle lasted longer this time, but then faded to nothing. I listened intently. I couldn’t hear anything, but I knew it was still there.

I finally moved from my frozen position. Leaving the broken plate and splattered food, I rushed to my computer. I began searching the internet for the thing, but there were too many possibilities. It could be a demon, an asura, a ghost, or any one of hundreds of other of spirits described by the cultures throughout the world.

As I clicked on another link, I heard its laugh again. A chill invaded my body and I heard its voice.

“Hear…My… Name…”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” I screamed.

It laughed again.

“Your… Name… Is… Worthless…

“Your… Commands… Are… Void…”

“My… Name… Is…”

I tried to ignore the terror inside me, but I shouted my name again. I had a sense it was shaking its head as its laughter faded.

What sort of demon places such importance on names? Names were supposed to give you power over the demon, not give the demon power over you. What kind of mythology was this from?

I returned to my computer and began a new search.

* * *

It came to me several times in the following hours and whispered its name. Finally, I stopped trying to drown it out and listened. When the demon spoke its name, it was so soft I couldn’t hear it. It sounded like softly hissing static, a name composed of indiscernible sounds. As soon as I stopped blocking out the demon’s name, it began whispering mine.

Nothing happened as far as I knew, but I grew even more nervous. My searches weren’t helpful, and I couldn’t hear the demon’s name well enough to get a clue what it was.

My body felt weighed down. If my eyes were closed any longer than a blink, sleep washed over me. I couldn’t sleep, though, because every time I began to drift off I felt the terrible presence hovering over me. I’d jerk awake and begin another string of searches. It spoke probably four or five times an hour, and whenever it whispered its name, I strained to hear it. It was still an indistinct hiss.

Sometime in around three in the morning I realized I could hear its voice in the real world. I heard it when the wind blew past my window, when the furnace kicked on, when water ran in the bathroom. And it grew louder as the night wore on. I began blasting my music, but I could hear its rough voice in the static between songs. The demon’s voice grew louder and louder until I could hear its muttering in the background of my favorite songs. I stopped listening to music at five in the morning, but I could still hear the voice in the computer’s fan and in the creaking of the house.

The morning was worse. I rushed to the library as soon as it opened and began researching out of body experiences, religious beliefs on demons, ancient religions, and the like. Nothing helped. The things I found helped me understand the science of the thing, but there was nothing to explain hallucinations after waking up, unless I was taking hallucinogens in my coffee. As I burned through the pages, I could see the dark red smoke in the edges of my vision. When I glanced at it, the smoke would vanish. I would go back to reading, and it would rematerialize. By the afternoon I saw the smoke hang in the air for a few seconds before fading to nothing. Evening came and went without relief, then I decided to go home. I was rattled after my day in the library, and not much better off. As I drove back to my house, I could hear the demon’s voice grumbling in the engine, saying my name, muttering threats, and grumbling its own. When I turned off the car, it didn’t even bother masking its voice anymore. I could almost hear its name now, but it was still distorted. Worse, I could feel its frozen breath tickling my ear and smell its dusty, rotten breath.

I scoured the internet all night, going to several forums for supernatural and paranormal. Few people had heard of demons like this, and they couldn’t advise a defense other than a crucifix, holy water, or salt, but I doubted they’d work. I stayed up all night hoping for someone knowledgeable to show up on the forums. I was disappointed.

About two hours ago, the kitchen lights started flickering. The pencils in the jar have started rattling softly, and I swear I can see the cans of tipped-over energy drink slowly rolling toward me. Not only can I hear its voice, but I can also hear a faint, high-pitched keening, like a distant boiling kettle. And footsteps. Heavy, inexorable footsteps, coming closer, and when I turn to confront my enemy, I only see indents in my wooden floor.

It’s six in the morning now, still dark, and I’ve reached the limit of my endurance. I have to fight it. I’ve chosen my best defenses in an attempt to ward it off, but somehow I doubt they’ll work. I’m alone, I’m exhausted, and I’m done fighting. I’m sorry everyone, but I just can’t…



Credit To – Crow

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The Watchtower

April 13, 2014 at 12:00 AM
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____________________ by Doctor Slim
Part 1

People always have pondered what another intelligent being would be like. They’ve always theorized that these beings would be light years away and that us, humans, would be dead a very long time before we ever made contact with them. Other people say that they have already met them after being abducted and experimented on. Then some will say that we are the only intelligent being there are or ever will be. Well, I can say say one thing for sure and that’s no one was right. We were all so very wrong…

Back when I was a teenager, I’ll admit I was a smoker and an avid drug user. I’d done most drugs that were deemed “safe” from my friends such as LSD, MDMA, DMT, many prescription drugs, and I even had a phase where I did some over-the-counter drugs. As a teen, I like to think I played it smart by only doing those every so often and stick with my main fix. Weed.

I used weed almost as a social tool to some extent. What I mean by that is it got me to meet people who all were similar to me in at least the one aspect; we just wanted to get high. Around the end of my Sophomore year I met this kid named Ralph at a party and we quickly found out that we had a lot in common so we became friends.

When summer came, I’d hang out at his house, which was out in the middle of a forest, at least 4 or 5 times a week. While I was at his house, we’d barely ever go inside because his parents never liked anyone in there. Instead, we’d go to his barn which was filled with cats that were most likely illegally being held. You’re probably thinking why the fuck someone would hold cats in a barn. His mom actually bread some very expensive cats ranging from around $500-$3,000. She never had a permit for it either, and most of them were very maltreated by barely being fed or given water. Anyways we would hang out in that barn for hours every time I came over and all we would really do is smoke weed and cigarettes. We grew bored of that after a couple weeks since there wasn’t much to do so he started to show me some cool spots throughout his neighborhood.

Some of the places were just a great view like this place we called the ledge which was on a small mountain. From the ledge, we could see the entire forest stretch out so far that we couldn’t even come close to seeing the end of it. Then there were spots that were just cool like the cliffs which is pretty self explanatory from its name. My favorite place was what we called the old house.

The old house was an abandon house down a long driveway with many “No Trespassing” signs, but we had thought whatever the owner didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. The house was a three story building that looked as if no one had lived there for probably around 50+ years. As you could imagine, the house was obviously decently decayed, and very neglected by wildlife and everyone that had been there. All the windows were busted out, parts of trees grew inside the house, the floor was broken in, parts of walls were missing showing the inside of the wall which most likely was filled with asbestos. The walls that weren’t broken in had graffiti covering almost every inch possible. The house’s obvious property was pretty big probably being a couple acres. Decently thick brush surrounded the yard and a side building that was presumably an out house. The house and it’s property also had an eerie feel to it, but what abandon house doesn’t?

Most of the time we would visit there during the day, but I personally thought the best time to go was at night. The rush I would get from this place past dark was unreal. Only people who have been in an abandon house in the middle of the forest over night would know what I mean. I had only done this a few times as I would go alone because Ralph would refuse to go there during the night.

One night, we were at the barn around 20:00 and I was trying really hard to convince him to come with me to the old house. Like always, he constantly said no. This ended up making me mad so I demanded him to tell why he wouldn’t come with me. He sighed and said “Well, this going to seem a little ridiculous, but I saw… something… in the forest by there.”

“Well what the hell does that have to do with anything?” I replied.

“I’m just worried that it would come to the house during the night.”

“That what would?”

He sighed and began to tell me what he saw.

Back when he was 9 or 10, him and his friend Carl wanted to find a spot where they could go to get away from both of their families. After a few weeks of exploring through the woods, they came across the old house, but in a slightly different state. Apparently, there were around 9 or 10 paths all around the house where the brush grew now.

Him and Carl would try to always explore one path every time they would go to the house until they ran out. This would allow them to have something new to do every time they visited. Some paths took a couple days as they would walk pretty slow at first absorbing the scenery of the forest and its inhabitants. When they would turn back, they would leave a marking in the ground or put a pile of sticks together and leave it at the furthest point they reached. The next time they would visit the old house they would quickly walk past everything they have already seen until they go to their “checkpoint”.

They never found anything interesting enough on these paths to actually keep, but a few weird things began happening. Oddly enough, it was only on the final three paths. Mostly the mysterious happenings effected the checkpoints.

The checkpoint at the first of the three was just a stack of sticks tied together by some long pieces of grass. Ralph and him came back the next day excited as they always were when they explored one of the paths. Eventually the checkpoint came to view, but it wasn’t how they left. The sticks were ripped in to pieces in a pile. This didn’t bother either of them though since they thought it was maybe a fox or another animal in the woods. Ralph said looking back now, it wasn’t possible for any animal to make those sticks look like that.

The second of the three checkpoints was four sticks jabbed into the ground in a square pattern. Carl was going to be out of the town for the next couple days so it was there for a few days. The day he came back, they both were happily went down the path. When they finally arrived to the checkpoint, there were 3 more squares of sticks in the ground next time the first one making a giants square of sticks. This made both of them a little uneasy, but they kept going down the path a little more hesitant. Nothing else out of the ordinary happened on the path.

They ended up exploring the last path all the way on the same day. Half of it was explored during the day in which they made a star in the ground with a stick. Both of them were very eager to finish this one therefore they made a plan. At exactly midnight, they would both sneak out of their houses and meet up at the old house. Carl was suppose to bring two flashlights while Ralph was going to bring two of his father’s pocket knives. Everything went exactly as planned. They met up and started going down the path.

Ralph and Carl quickly realized that the paths at night weren’t as appealing to the eye. In fact, most of it was straight up terrifying. Neither of them would end up saying anything about it because they both wanted to to be brave. When they finally reached the checkpoint, they shone their flashlights on it and what they saw would leave them breathless. Right next to the original star was another star that sloppily drawn. Ralph told that it resembled what you would think a two year old would draw for a star. The worst part was it was at least an inch deep and a half an inch in diameter.

At first, Carl wanted to turn around and go home, but Ralph convinced him not to. Ralph said that someone probably saw them leave the property of the old house after the sixth trail. That person then began to mess with their checkpoints in order to scare them off so they would stay off the property. Carl thought about Ralph’s theory and came to the conclusion he was probably right so they continued down to finish the path. Apparently this path was very long compared to the rest. The further and further they went down the path, the weirder things got. On some of the trees there were deep gashes almost splitting some of the trees in half and some of them were even knocked over. These sites became more and more common the deeper they went.

Then they reached a clearing in the shape of circle probably being about 100 yards across. There was no grass and no trees except one. It was in the middle of the glade and had a tower built into it. Eventually, they would name it the watch tower due to the structure of the building. The watch tower was very crudely built out of wood and being around 4 stories tall. On the bottom floor, there was a doorway which looked abnormally big. The second had a balcony above the door with no railing and it’s supports sticking in the ground. Next was the third floor which was pretty plain only having what appeared to be a window. Finally was the fourth floor. It was almost like a roof, but not quite. Presumably, there was either a ladder or stairs leading up there. It had almost a railing around the perimeter.

They didn’t notice the fourth floor at first because when they looked at it from an upward angle, it would appear as a flat roof. But that’s when they noticed it. There was a very tall humanoid creature standing on the top. This thing was looking in the opposite direction of Ralph and Carl and most of it features were impossible to see in the darkness. Both of them stood absolutely still staring at the creature for what felt like hours. Neither of them noticed how quiet the forest was until this point. In fact, it was so quiet that they both heard the ringing noise your brain makes up when there is no noise to hear.

After a few minutes, it began to move about the top of the watch tower. The creature reached it’s hand up into the air making a motion that looked as if it was stretching. What they saw would scar them forever. This thing had claws for fingers, but probably not the way you’re thinking of. The sharp part of the claws were where the back of your finger would be leaving the other side dull. They were also opposable and probably around 10 inches long. Ralph managed to hold back his scream, but Carl wasn’t so lucky.

The second Ralph heard a noise come from Carl’s mouth, he dived on him tackling him to the ground covering his mouth as they fell. Ralph looked Carl straight in the eyes and brought one finger up to his lips letting him know to not make a noise. When they finally looked back over at the creature he was looking directly at them. Both of their hearts stopped and they held their breath trying not to move a muscle. Fortunately for them, the darkness was the perfect camouflage leaving them invisible to the creature. It began looking around them frantically almost as if it was scanning the area to find where the noise had come from. That’s when they noticed a silhouette of the same thing standing in the third story window looking in their direction also.

Suddenly, the creature jumped from the roof making a loud bang and a cloud of dust rising from the ground. Ralph and Carl both looked at each other and knew exactly what they had to do, run. They both ran as fast as they ever have the way they came from hoping the creature didn’t see or hear them. After about 10 minutes, they finally came to a stop. Ralph almost collapsed, but thankfully Carl managed to catch him and softly lower him to the ground.

Both of them sat there in utter silence listening while trying to catch their breath. Neither of them heard a sound except for forest wildlife which had seem to return to the forest. After a few minutes, both of them just walked home not saying a word to each other.

I was speechless. Like who really would know what to say after hearing all that? Honestly, I thought it was all bullshit at first and responded with a really sarcastic comment about it being a nice story. But the look in his eyes after I said that convinced me other wise.

I asked him what happened to Carl and unfortunately, he moved across the country soon afterwards. Apparently they managed to stay friends for a couple years, but as time went on they lost contact.

We went to sleep after that, but I don’t really think either of us got much sleep. Neither of us talked to each other for a couple days, but then it went back to how it used to be. After a couple weeks I brought up the idea of going to the watchtower just so we can clear things up. Initially, he said no, but with a bit of convincing I got him up to a maybe. I said we would do it smart this time and bring a gun or two and maybe some knives. This made him feel better and agreed, but we have to bring a few more people. We both called some friends and planned it for the next weekend.
Sleep didn’t come easy over the next week. I had nightmares about the watch tower and those creatures. Most of the dreams have either been forgotten or my brain subconsciously blocked them. Though that was not the case for one of the horrid dreams.

I was one of them. I stood at the top of the watchtower looking out at the surrounding forest, hungry looking for anything that I could eat. Something moved in the woods and I quickly looked where it came from. Darkness plagued the forest making it very hard for my non human eyes to see. Maybe it moved I thought and began looking around the general area I heard it from. Nothing. I descended the ladder that was behind me.

I saw the silhouette of one of them standing staring out the window. This started to make me uneasy in my dream as I began to realize that what I was couldn’t be right. I kept going down the ladder and went past the second floor and then I reached the first floor. The weird part was, the ladder kept going down underground. Hesitantly I went down it into the complete darkness. I kept going down and down until I noticed a light coming from below. The light got closer and closer until it was right below me. As I was about to see what it was, I woke up in a cold sweat. Not feeling good, I walked to the bathroom and threw up.

A week had finally passed and we all met up at Ralphs house. I brought two of my friends, one was John who was a bodybuilder, and Austin who was just a very good friend of mine. Ralph only managed to get one of his friends to come. His name was Mark and he was a wrestler.

We each brought something that could possibly help us on the adventure into the unknown. John brought a backpack filled with water and food just incase we managed to get lost or if one of us was hungry/thirsty. Austin managed to take his dad’s .44 magnum with enough bullets to go through 5 magazines (not sure what they are really called on a magnum) Mark found an old machete in his garage a few months ago and with a little convincing, his parents agreed to let him have it, so of course he brought that. Ralph took his dad’s shotgun and had around 40 bullets for it minus what was already loaded into it. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to bring anything that could be of much use, but I brought a few pocket knives and for myself, a butterfly knife.

We left for the old house at about 8 in the morning. The only reason we left so early was we’d rather face these things during the day. As we got there we all immediately figured out our one flaw with this plan, the path didn’t exist anymore.

Fortunately, Mark had the machete so he began to cut his way through the brush. We were all worried the whole path would be covered in this brush, but it was only for about the first hundred or hundred and fifty feet. The strange part was that after it ended, there was none for the rest of the path. All there was grass nothing more, nothing less.

We had been walking for an hour when Austin started complaining. “This is pointless guys; we’re never gonna find anything!” he said rudely.

“Yes we will,” said Ralph.

“You sure this the right path, Ralph?” I asked, “I mean we haven’t really seen anything out of the ordinary yet.”

“I think it is.”

“You think!?” said John.

“Almost positive. The only way it wouldn’t be is if there was another path I didn’t see before”

While rolling his eyes, John said, “Well I think it’s about time we eat something.”

“I agree, I’m starving!” Replied Mark.

So we sat there and ate. While we were eating, I sat there absorbing the scenery. It was about noon so the sun was high up in the sky lighting up everything that wasn’t directly below the trees which wasn’t much. The light or should I say the lack of light allowed me to notice something odd.

On the side of a tree, a part was slightly bulging out. I walked closer towards it when it hit me:

“What the hell are you doing?” Asked Mark.

“Just come here guys.” I said back with a grim look on my face.

As they walked next to me, they noticed it too. On the tree was one of the claw marks Ralph had told me about. There were 4 total claws that caused it. Each mark was about an inch and a half or two inches deep while being about an inch across.

There was a long silence between all of us for a couple minutes as we all took in what we saw.

Austin finally broke the silence by saying, “Well I guess this is the right path.”

“Told ya,” said Ralph.

“I’m worried now,” John said.

“Don’t be. If we come across one of these fuckers I’ll blow it’s head.”

“But what if our guns and knives aren’t enough?”

“Well I highly doubt that, but I guess we would just run for our life.” replied Mark.

We continued down the path, but this time we had our weapons ready for anything. There was more and more scratch marks on the trees.

We all definitely felt the tension rising the further we walked through the path as all of us began to talk less. Occasionally I’d look over at my friends just to make sure they were okay and all of them minus Ralph had a look fear in their eyes. The look Ralph had was that of regret and terror.

After what felt like hours of walking, we noticed an opening far ahead. Although blurry, we could make out the watchtower.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ralph said with a hushed voice.

“What?” I asked him nervously.

“We gotta get out here NOW!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” asked Austin.

“The watchtower has at least doubled in size since I was last here.”

I started to step back towards Ralph when I heard a loud snap and suddenly I was stuck in a net. It began swinging violently and I hit my head on a tree and got knocked out.


Slowly I started to become conscious. I opened my eyes and was blinded by light so I quickly closed them tightly shut. The light made me notice my horrific head ache. At this point I was still very disorientated so I wasn’t really worried. All the memories of what just happened began flooding back into my head. This made me not want to open my eyes. I was hoping maybe somehow my friends got me out of the trap and were just resting for a second so they lied me down, but the noises I began hearing made me realize that was not what happened at all.

It sounded almost like a voice but, it was very deep and malicious. Whatever it was, it wasn’t human and there was definitely at least three of them. They were having a conversation about who knows what. I could only assume it was about me which caused me to worry for my life and my friends life. At first I thought I should just keep my eyes closed and not move, but why stop the inevitable?

Once I opened my eyes, I noticed that the light shining on my face was coming from a very strange light. The light source was surrounded by some type of glass in the shape of a cube with little metal rods sticking out from each corner emitting a what I presumed was electricity into a glowing orb in the middle. Several of these hung from the unusually high ceiling throughout the room. About halfway across the room, a row of bars and a door came all the way across the room blocking me off from the other side of the room.

On my side, there wasn’t really much at all. In the corner of the room laid a blanket and what I assumed was suppose to be some sort of pillow made purely from cloth or something. The corner across from that one had a hole about a foot in diameter. It had to have been pretty deep too because you couldn’t see the bottom even with the light placed directly above it. At the center of my side was a huge pillar with some crazy type of writing wrapping around it from top to bottom.

The other side was very… weird. One of the corners was completely blocked off like it was an abnormally large cubicle. The other side had a couple of very big containers almost like an 8 foot filing cabinet except they only had a single drawer taking up where all the drawers would be. Along the back wall was a door except, it didn’t have a door knob. On the floor directly in front of the door was markings of what I assumed was another creatures footprints. Tubes hung from the ceiling in a very strange pattern.

I kept hearing the voices I had been hearing earlier from the general direction the cubicle was at. Slowly the voices were growing in volume, almost like there was some type of tension in that cubicle. The louder the voices grew, the more malign they sounded. Eventually it was almost like the creatures were having a full out argument; they were what seemed to be yelling, occasionally stomping on the ground.

The stomping was nerve wrecking at the least. Every time they’d stomp it would shake the entire room meaning the creature itself had to have been large. Very large.

They kept arguing, getting louder and louder for what felt like hours until one of them finally left the cubicle. I wanted to vomit the second we met eyes.

The creature was horrific; it was about 8 feet tall, very muscular and looked like a humanoid. This things skin looked thick, almost like leather minus the brown color. Instead it was a sort of a darker pink, but not quite red. One of the creatures leg would be as thick as a car tire and about four to four and a half feet long. The feet looked almost human, but very large and instead of toes, it had small versions of the claws described in Ralph’s story. It’s torso was abnormally small compared to the rest of it body, but it still remained one of the most muscular parts of its body. His arms were long, hanging down to about its knees, but the worse part was the dreaded claws it had instead of fingers. They were just like Ralph described except I could clearly see that they were a whitish yellow, almost like teeth meaning they were most likely bone instead of whatever nails are made from.

The face was the thing that stood out the most. Honestly, it still gives me nightmares today.. Anyways, it’s head was very proportionate to the rest of its body, just like a humans. hung out of the edge of its mouth being significantly longer than the rest of its fangs which might I add it had several rows of fangs. The tongue was like a humans except completely flat. There wasn’t a nose, instead holes for nostrils much like a snake. No ears existed either; just holes like the nose except it had some type of filter covering the ear most likely blocking things from crawling in there. The hair was possibly the strangest part, it looked almost like rope hanging from its head except you could tell each “rope” was a single piece of hair. Before I noticed any of those features though, I noticed it’s dreaded eyes.

Where the white is in our eyes was black in this things eyes. The black took up a majority of its eyes with a white iris that took up a space as thin as pencil lead. Red pupils were in the center of the eye. Anyways I ended up calling these things wolverines because of their claws.

After I threw up, I looked up at the wolverine as he looked back at me. A smile grew across his face which sent a shiver down my spine. It stopped in its path and we just stared at each other for probably about five minutes when he turned around. The wolverine quickly ran back into the cubicle. I heard the voices again until three wolverines walked from behind the cubicle.

All of them stared at me with the same disturbing smile. Eventually one said something while staring at me. At first, I wasn’t too sure who it was talking to, but it became obvious he was talking to me as he began saying the same phrase three or four times. Not sure what to do, I replied with the simple phrase of I don’t understand what your saying.

It quickly frowned and began walking towards the door. The wolverine stood where the foot prints were when they slightly moved down. The door flew open and then all three wolverines walked out.

For the next few hours, I was in there alone. At first I quickly began looking around for an exit but, came to no avail. I gave up and just began thinking about Ralph, Austin, John, and Mark. What happened to them? Were they okay? Did all of them get stuck in the trap? Who got away? Are they even still alive?

All these thoughts started becoming too much and I honestly started to cry. Hard. I probably cried for about thirty minutes when I started thinking again. At the time I thought what’s the point in crying? I mean it’s not gonna get me anywhere and all it’s gonna do is dehydrate me. And what if they don’t give me water? It will only make the inevitable come so much quicker then I wanted.

After a few hours had passed, a couple wolverines came back except it brought a table with straps where my feet and hands would be. They opened the door in the middle of the room as I groaned waiting for my fate. It picked me up with what felt like actual care, almost like a mom picking up its baby. This made me very confused at first until I figured out they were treating me like a piece of evidence; with care to try and not alter me.

I was lied down on the table and was strapped in. One of them opened the door while the other pushed me. We went through a very weird hallway that looked like something like a hallway in an asylum and ended up in a room I could only call an operating room.

For a couple minutes, the two wolverines talked. After they finished, they began making marks all over my body where I presumed they were going to cut open. The wolverine grabbed a knife and made an insertion in my forehead and my right arm. I guess the other wolverine called him as he put the knife down next to my right hand. This was my chance, my chance to escape, to get away. I quickly began looking around for an exit. At first, I couldn’t find anyway out as I knew the door wouldn’t work for me but, thats when I noticed another hole in the corner of the room except it was slightly bigger than the one in my cell.

I grabbed the knife and quickly began cutting the restraint on my right hand. While I was cutting it I kept looking up to make sure they weren’t paying attention and fortunately they weren’t. The first restraint took the longest to cut, but the rest only took a second. I was free, well from the restraints at least. As quietly as I could, I got up and was crawling towards the hole when I heard it scream.

For a second, I thought I went deaf. How incredibly loud that scream was. This disorientated me to the point of me not being able to move. I quickly managed to compose myself together while one was beginning to run towards me. I couldn’t make a run for the hole because before I’d reach it, the wolverine would get me. At this point I still had the knife so I did the only thing I could think of. I threw it straight at the wolverine hitting it in the head. The knife itself was very sharp, but due to the creatures thick skin it only went in about an eighth of an inch. Fortunately, this was enough to stun the beast for a split second. I quickly turned around, got to the hole and jumped down.

I could barely fit in the hole so as I fell I constantly hit the walls. I only fell about 50 feet or so until I hit water or some type of liquid. For some reason, it had a very strong current though so it dragged me right along with it. The water was only a few feet deep which most likely saved me from drowning. After about 15 minutes or so I saw light from the way I was going.

Happiness overwhelmed me the closer and closer I got. Finally I got out of the cave or whatever I was in and was in sunlight. I quickly got out of the water on the side of the river and lied down absorbing all the sunlight I could. I actually ended up falling in a deep sleep right there on the shore.

I was in my bed, nice and warm. Feeling pretty content, I got up and went to shower. Hot water poured all over my body, cleansing every pore in my body. The kitchen was right above the bathroom so I could always smell what was being made. My mom this morning was making eggs and bacon so you know what my bathroom smelt like. I got out of the shower, dried myself off, got dressed, and went up stairs for an amazing breakfast.

That morning we had a family breakfast, something we never usually do. My dad told elaborate stories about his childhood memories which would bring joy and light to each person in my family. My mom would talk about her job and getting a raise which would mean things were going to change around here, for the better. My sister talked about how she met this amazing guy and how she thought he might actually be “the one”. I rolled my eyes at this and laughed as I washed my plate clean.

All of the sudden, I heard glass breaking coming from the basement. My dad said as quietly and frantically as he could, “Go upstairs, lock yourselves in your room and don’t make a noise.” All of us did exactly as he said except I went a little further and hid inside my closet. I sat there for what like hours and listened as closely as I could to try and here what was happening downstairs. All I could hear was banging which filled me with fear.

Something was starting to come up stairs and it sounded bigger than my dad. I held my breath and got in the fetal position as it started to walk towards my room. Whatever it was, it sounded like it had taken my door clean off the hinges. It walked towards my closet and opened the door. Looking right at me was a wolverine with a huge smile on its face. The monster picked me up and threw me towards the wall. Thats when I woke up.

When you first wake up, you’re usually really dazed and disoriented especially after a dream. Well that’s what I was like as I was flying through the air. I didn’t really understand what was going on until I hit the tree. The second I hit the tree was the second collapsed. I spit up a shit ton of blood and looked up. Staring straight at me was a wolverine about 30 feet away with the same grin on his face as the one in the dream.

At this point my adrenaline began rushing, but it wasn’t too much help as I couldn’t even really stand. The creature slowly began walking towards me making the noise that I could only describe as laughter. I began looking around frantically trying to find someway to get out of there when I noticed the river about 5 feet away from me. I quickly rolled in to it as the current took me with it.

As I began going down the river I saw the creature quickly jump into it trying to chase after me. I tried to swim with the current to make me a little bit faster, but it never helped much. The further and further down the river I went the closer the beast got to me. At one point, it swung its claw towards me but missed. While it’s claw was right by my leg, I quickly used all the strength in my body to force myself further away. Let’s just say it didn’t really work. Somehow, he countered it grabbing my ankle and flinging me into the air further down the river which I noticed turned into a lake.

I crashed down in shallow water on the opposite side of where the river came out at. I knew this was the end of me, both my legs had to be broken at this point and same with my arms. The creature got dumped out into the lake, but something surprising happened.

The creature flailed its arms in every direction, filling the air with that dreaded scream. I was very confused about what was happening at first, but then it hit me like a ton of bricks. It can’t swim! It was drowning in the deep part of the water! I was filled with relief until I lost consciousness most likely due to blood loss.


I slowly opened my eyes and realized I was in a hospital bed. Looking down at my body, I noticed I was almost completely covered in bandages while both my legs and one of my arms were in casts. My mom was sleeping on a chair they had placed next to my bed. I smiled and said her name probably about five times until she woke up. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mom cry so hard or heard her scream so loud.

Police questioned me over the next few days about what had happened. I didn’t really know what to say so I made up a story about how me and a friend went exploring down the river when I fell in, hit my head, and passed out in the river. Next they asked which friend and I said Carl. Apparently, Carl had been missing for a couple days now, way before I “passed out” in the river. I became a main suspect in his disappearance, but there was a lack of evidence to actually convict me.

Recovery would take me years to become a fully operable human being again. In fact, they actually had to replace a few bones in my legs to get them to work like normal.

One thing to this day still makes me very curious. What happened to Austin, Mark and John? Did they go crazy? Maybe they just kept quiet about it? Or did they even get captured too? Honestly, who knows, but I can only assume they were probably captured too.

Whenever you’re in a forest and see a strange structure that doesn’t look quite so normal, PLEASE get out of there. The wolverines are probably there and they have no mercy. They are way more powerful than us humans. If for some reason you do come across one of them though, find some near by deep water and jump right in. Don’t worry, you can swim and they can’t. Well that is unless they’ve learned how to swim since then.

Credit To – Doctor Slim

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Missing Teeth

April 7, 2014 at 12:00 AM
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When I woke up in the morning, I knew something was off. It wasn’t until after my morning shower and shave that I figured it out. Not until my toothbrush slipped into a new gap in my smile. I froze, bristles bridging the gap, as I tried to understand what happened. Slowly, I removed the toothbrush from my mouth and stared in the mirror as I pulled my lips back, part smile, mostly grimace.

There it was, under my whitewashed paste smeared lips and set in the sudsy white teeth was a little black window.. Upper set, one of the front ones. I’m not a particularly vain person, but this was upsetting. Missing teeth were for yokels, the homeless, people who got into fistfights over sports. I wear a suit, I go to meetings, I have a secretary. Now, here I was, looking like I was dirt.

What made this deterioration worse was that just a few weeks ago, I had noticed my hair was thinning. Now this. My anxiety flared and my mind exploded with reasons why my tooth could have fallen out. Was it because I only brushed my teeth once a day on the weekends? Or was it something with my gums? I went through the day with my upper lip curled over my teeth and my mind filled with every possible reason why my tooth was gone. My secretary scheduled a dentist’s appointment for me later in the week. I didn’t tell her why.

The next morning, I was missing another one. Bottom, towards the back. No blood, no pain. There was a hole, I couldn’t keep my tongue out of it, but that was it. Physically, at least. On the inside, I felt a constant, claustrophobic panic. At home, every couple of minutes, I would tear off my sheets or get down on all fours, spreading out like a stretching dog, fingers splayed, praying that some part of me would touch these lost teeth. They had to be somewhere. Maybe the dentist could put them back in.

On the third day, my front three teeth on the top and bottom with gone. I almost cried. I was single and all I could think about was how no woman would want someone with such a fucked up mouth. Every few minutes I reached into my mouth to push and pull on my teeth to see if they were loose. That is until I began to the worry that I was making them loose with all the tugging. I didn’t go to work, I just called my dentist a half dozen times, trying to get him to see me as soon as possible.

The anxiety burned me out. So, after I carefully brushed my teeth, I went to bed early. I don’t know when I woke up, but when I did I saw him. I don’t know why I didn’t scream or jump back against the headboard. Somehow, I just stayed still and watched him through slivers of open eyes. In the dark I could just barely see the outline of his hunched back. His face was pale and waxy, his thin, round glasses caught the little bit of streetlight that came through my window. When he put his hand in my mouth, I tasted leather. Short, fat fingers pinched one of my teeth. I felt a quick, sharp slice into my gum and then just a gap where my tooth was. He took four more, then creeped out of my room. The floorboards didn’t squeak and my door hinge didn’t whine as he closed it. I didn’t even hear the front door open and close. All I heard was a car starting and pulling out of my driveway.

I didn’t go anywhere the next day. My dentist’s office called, but I didn’t answer my phone or listen to their voicemail. I didn’t move out of my bed. The hunger didn’t bother me. I had fewer teeth than a Jack O’Lantern and I couldn’t imagine trying to chew with my asymmetrical maw. My mouth was dry, but when I thought about water I thought about floods and mudslides washing away hills and houses and gums and teeth sliding down the back of my throat on a wave.

I couldn’t call the police. “A man is stealing my teeth at night,” might as well be the password for a mental asylum. Instead, I tried to fight sleep. Every light was turned on, every TV on its loudest setting, my stereo cranked to its limit.

When I woke up, it was in the silent dark and he was there.

He took three more that night. When he left, I followed. Where I walked, floorboards squeaked and hinges whined, but he didn’t look back. I saw his car, some old steel boat with fins and white walls. After he pulled out, I ran to my car and went after him. He had to know I was behind him. I kept my distance, because that’s what spies and detectives do in movies, but at this time of night we were the only two cars on the road. And, I realized, he’s seen my car before.

We headed for the boondocks, rural roads I’d never been on. They were dark and narrow, turning back and forth, rising up into fog, then dipping down again. Trees flanked us. No moon or stars, just headlights that shined on the reflective markers on the guardrail. I didn’t know what time we started, but it felt like we’d been driving for hours. Maybe he was trying to lose me, but… I hadn’t seen any other roads.

Finally, after a long, curving ride up and then down a mountain, I started to see familiar roads. This guy was fucking with me. All we did was go in a big circle. These were the streets that took us out into the backwoods. The exact streets.

We were going back to my house.

But it wasn’t my house. It looked like my house, but at my house the mailbox is to the right of the driveway. Here, it’s to the left. And in the yard was the birch tree I had cut down two years ago.

He parked his car and walked inside. I followed right behind. I knew where he was going and how to get there. The layout was the same as my house. Only the furniture was in different places. I walked back to my bedroom and pushed the door open with my fingertips. He had turned on a small lamp on the nightstand (mine had three drawers, this had two) and he was already at work.

In my bed, under the covers, was a lump of flesh. Someone, maybe the man, had sculpted crude arms and a neck and a soft, dented jawline. On the top of its head was an uneven, sparse tuft of hair. Brown. Same shade as mine. Two small holes for a nose, angular divots where the eyes should be. The sheets rose and fell with shallow breath. I watched him open up the lump’s lipless ovoid mouth and with crafter’s precision carefully set my teeth into its gums. After they were in, he grabbed them, wiggled them, tugged on them. They wouldn’t budge.

Slowly, he turned from his work and looked at me. His face was yellow in the dim lamplight. The eyes behind the glasses were little more than pinpricks of pupil. Over his shoulder, the lump stirred. It struggled to breathe, each exhale was a muffled internal scream. It tried to rise, tried to push itself up with boneless, flipper-like hands, but they just smashed useless against the mattress. The groaning breaths became more frustrated and angry as it struggled to prop itself up. When the lump finally shimmied itself against the head board, it joined the man in staring at me and I stared back. First into its empty sockets the same dull, slimy pink as a newborn baby.

The room was getting smaller. The bulb in the bedside lamp explodes and the only light comes from the man’s tiny eyes. Thin bolts of blazing yellow that cut right through the pitch dark of the room, illuminating little island of his sickly flesh. The pupils spread, the light widened, revealing more and more of his face. His mouth was opened. Wide. Unhinged. All I could see was teeth, sloppily spiraling around the inside of his mouth until they disappeared into the dark of his throat. All I heard was the struggling breaths of the lump, now lound as thunder, but still maintaining that muffled quality. My eyes traced the spiral of teeth, straining to follow them into the cavernous black esophagous. I fell in and rode the spiral down.

I woke up in my house. My real house. It was a few more nights before all my teeth were gone. Then I started to lose my fingernails and toenails. Last night, he took my lips. Now, there’s just a gaping black hole in my face.

I don’t know what he’ll take next, but I saw myself half-formed in that bed. I know there’s a lot of work to be done.

Credit To – ImGonnaBeThatGuy

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