Entry 4

Day 12 - Thursday

I found others like me. Terrified. Hunted. Just trying to survive. Some of them who discovered that they weren’t alone, like I’m discovering now, said that it makes them feel better just knowing there are others. What the hell is their problem? That just means this thing is even more powerful than I thought, that I’m definitely not imagining it, and that no one knows what to do. I feel worse than ever. I had hoped that th

Day 14 - Saturday

I saw him again, the other night. It was almost ten, while I was working on the last entry. I couldn't bring myself to sit down at my computer again until now. I heard a noise, and I went to investigate. You always think you’re gonna be smarter than that, but, damn. I don’t even remember what the sound I heard was now, but it drew me towards the spare bedroom. I could already tell the lights were out, because there was only blackness leaking out from under the closed door. I hoped the sound was only the lights burning out. All of them at once. So, with a light bulb in one hand and a flash light in the other I stood contemplating the doorknob, trying to work up the nerve to go in.

I couldn’t see anything. It wasn’t just that it was dark; it was completely black. Even the lights from the hallway didn’t penetrate. I turned on my flashlight and pointed it inside, but the beam stopped at the entrance, swallowed by the darkness. I felt my jaw begin to hurt, and I realized I had been clenching it for some time now. I wanted to close the door, board it up, and then burn the house down. I wanted to charge into the room, find that skinny bastard, and beat him to death with my bare hands. Before I knew what I was doing, I had taken a step forward, and by that time I was resolved.

It was almost sticky, the blackness. As I moved through it I could feel it cling to my hands, then up my arms, my legs, my chest, and last of all my face. It felt heavy and thick, like it would fill my lungs and drown me if I tried to breathe. I couldn’t see or hear anything, I didn’t even know if I was still standing or if I had somehow fallen through a hole in the world. I thought I could feel the blackness forcing its way up my nostrils, into my mouth and down my throat, slipping stickily through my esophagus to choke the life from my chest. Then, suddenly, I was through, and the room was just the normal dark of a dark room, dimly lit from the hall lights, and I could just make out the shape of its furnishings. I turned, and got an unobstructed view out- no more shadowy wall.

I checked my flashlight only to find it had died in the few moments I was walking through the congealed dark. I swore, then, malice momentarily forgotten, slowly felt my way toward the lamp against the side wall, since I didn’t want to bother with the ceiling light right then. I gingerly replaced the bulb, and light immediately filled the room once again, casting long dark tendrils wherever it met with an obstruction. I examined the old bulb in my hand and discovered the inside was coated in a grimy brown substance. I gave my flashlight another look and found its bulb in the same condition. I was considering breaking the bulb open to get a closer look when I noticed something behind the door out of the corner of my eye. It looked like there was something written on the wall. I made my way over and pushed to door out of the way.

There was a symbol. Or maybe it was a letter in another language. Anyway, whatever it was, it just looked like a circle with an ‘X’ in the middle. And it looked like it was drawn in

Well, anyway, it’s not there anymore, so it must have just been something he made me see. I tried to remember if I had ever seen that anywhere else, in a book or in a class or a movie or anything, but if I was supposed to know what it meant, I guess I disappointed him there.

There was another light now, though, and I realized it was coming from my flashlight. The brown gunk seemed to be fading, and as I watched the light grew stronger, until it was back at its former intensity. I let myself smile a little, thankful for my good fortune. I turned toward the ceiling light to see if it had cleared and was about to come back on as well, and my flashlight’s beam found its way to the window that looks out on the front yard.

I dropped it immediately. He was there. Watching. Just waiting for me to look. The lamp light popped and died, leaving the flashlight shining towards my foot from the floor the only light in the room. I was paralyzed for the briefest moment, and I heard the sound of the window being lifted. The plastic runners creaked loudly. It was like

God, it sounded like children screaming. I waited and waited and waited for it to be over, waited for the sudden, sharp pain as he impaled me. The snap of my body as he broke me in two. The long, drawn out agony of being pulled apart and eaten. But the slow, screeching sound of the window was all that ever came.

Until it was over. Silence. He was coming in. He was coming in. He was coming in. I listened in the silence for a noise, a sign, anything. I don’t know why I thought I would hear anything, why he couldn’t already be inside, silently walking towards me, standing in front of me, behind me, getting ready to

There was the slightest hint of a rustle on the carpet, and I bent over and picked up the flashlight as quickly as possible, pointing it towards the window.

He was already in. He was already in and he was standing just feet away and he was already in and he was reaching out for me and he was already in and he was going to grab me and I ran out the door as fast as I could and slammed it closed. And I was stuck. My eyes were glued to the door and I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I could see him, his shadow, from under the door. It wasn’t possible, but I could see the outline of his entire body on the floor. His head cocked, like he was considering the door. His body, with, oh God the tentacles, I had seen them in the room, coming from his back and there they were again, shifting, twisting, writhing around his torso. His arm moved. The shadow slid slowly across the floor, hand open, reaching, up, up, as if it was groping, searching for something. I tried to stay as silent and still as possible, like I was somehow hiding from a shadow, but my throat started to tighten up. I fought it back as long as I could, but I finally lost, and small coughing fit wracked my chest.

His head immediately ticked, and his shadow arm shot toward where I was standing. As soon as it did there was a thud at my front door. I jumped, and involuntarily turned to look. There was nothing there, and when I looked back the shadow was gone.

I could feel that he was no longer directly nearby, but I still couldn’t move for another hour. Even then, all I could do was fall back against the hallway wall and slump there all night. I spent the whole night alternating between staring at the guest bedroom door and down the hall towards the front door, but nothing else happened. Still, I didn’t dare move until I heard my alarm from my bedroom and knew I had to get up eventually.

I put off opening the front door for as long as I could, but when I had to leave for work I had no choice. There was a dead rabbit on my front step, disemboweled, with its organs tucked neatly into small plastic bags in a perfect ring around it.

A lot of those other people carry cameras around. They take pictures, record themselves all day long. They catch images of him in photos, in tapes- as if seeing him in person wasn’t enough, they want to know he’s there rather than be happily unaware. No. No, I will not chain myself to a camera, grasping at glimpses of him as he drives me mad. I already know that he’s always there. I don’t need anything else to remind me.

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