I’m not sure how much time I have left until he finds me, but I can assure you that it isn’t much. I know, I know, you want an explanation. Don’t worry, you’ll get one. But before I can give it to you, I must warn you: If you hear my story, he WILL get you.
(Note: Anything preceded and followed by an asterix (*) is a realization I had as I wrote down my story.)
It was the beginning of the Fall of 2012 when my son and I moved to a nice, cozy house by the woods in southeastern Pennsylvania. I was so excited to finally be away from the hustle-bustle of Philadelphia and go to a nice, quiet place so I could start writing a book. Writing a book was something I wished to do since I was a boy.
Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t move solely for myself. This was also very beneficial to my son, who was being bullied incessantly in school. The bullying was to such a degree that he would cry himself to sleep most nights. This was a new beginning for him too.
The day we moved, my son kept telling me he had a bad feeling about it. Looking back, I was feeling pretty jittery myself about it too. I guess I was anxious for a new beginning. Nonetheless, I convinced my son that he was nervous and there was nothing to worry about. As we got closer though, he kept telling me he wasn’t feeling too hot about the move. Again, I told him he was just nervous and told him to sleep a little and he would feel better.
An hour or so later my son woke up with a startled shriek in a cold sweat. He was freaking out in the passenger seat beside me, deep breathing and all. I stopped the car.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Th-There was this…thing…it…it…was chasing me,” my son replied all shaken up.
He continued, “It told me th-that i-it kidnaps people a-a-and takes them to the woods, and t-then I woke up…”
He was on the verge of tears as he finished up his brief explanation of the dream.
I was still trying to place the reason for my son having such a nightmare.
“I think you’re still nervous,” I said to him, “Just take a deep breath and relax. It’s ok. You’re ok. There’s nothing to worry about.”
After a few minutes, he calms down enough that we were able to continue our journey to our new home.
We finally made it to the house after navigating many winding roads. At last, we made it, I thought. My breath was taken away at the sight before me; acres upon acres of rolling hills in each direction, vast and open, with the forest behind, a nice backdrop to this perfect little picture.
The house was your average two story house plus an attic. It had plastic, beige siding, a garage door on the left and the house entrance on the right. There was a small porch by the front door with a coffee table between two lawn chairs. Inside, there was a living room to the left, a staircase on the right, and straight through the middle there was a hallway leading to kitchen straight ahead and a family room on the left, just past a dining room. Across the hall from the dining room was the double door hatch to the cellar. Upstairs there was a small hallway and my son’s room at the end. Closer to the stairs was my room, a quick left from the top landing. A bathroom was halfway down the hallway on the right with an ornamental table across from the door.
Nothing in the house was furnished to our personal preferences yet, so I figured I would unpack and set stuff up tonight and tomorrow so my son and I could feel at home as soon as possible.
Taking this all in, I noticed a slight movement through the glass doors by the back of the kitchen in forest behind my new home. Thinking back on my son’s seemingly insignificant nightmare I grew slightly worried, but reasoned that my eyes were just tired from the long drive and needed a nice nap. It was only noon so I figure I would unpack after I woke up in a few hours.
I was awakened in the middle of the night by a slight noise coming from the backyard. I was instantly on full alert. I quickly took in my surroundings, remembered that I was in my new house.
I hadn’t planned on sleeping so long since I wanted to unpack before I explored the land around the house, but I guess I was just that tired. Regardless of not being able to find anything to defend myself with, I went to investigate the origin of the noise.
I went down the stairs from my room and looked out the window to see if anyone was there. There wasn’t, as far as I could tell.
As I opened the door I called out, “Is anybody there? Hello?”
A little skeptical I slowly opened the door, taking baby steps. I made my way slowly and quietly across the wood porch and went down the steps. Still alert, I heard another noise. This time from under the porch. Growing ever more worried I called out again.
“Is anybody there? Hello?”
Again, there was no answer.
As I started to go back up the stairs of my porch and into my house, a raccoon scurried out from underneath the porch with its midnight snack in its mouth. Gross. But at least it wasn’t a burglar or anything, so I was able to calm down and slept through the rest of the night.
I woke up with the sun the next morning. It was about 6 AM and my son was still asleep. He left for school at about 7:30 AM and wouldn’t come home till 3 PM. So I figured I would wake him up in 30-40 minutes. Meanwhile, I went downstairs and started to unpack the kitchenware and get the house in order as quickly as possible.
After about 20 minutes I heard some footsteps from around my son’s room upstairs, more the shuffling of feet than footsteps really. I know my son set an alarm, but it wasn’t supposed to go off for another 20 minutes. This threw me off a little. I ignored this occurrence.
I continued working but I had this weird feeling lingering over me. It was as if someone, or something, was watching me, studying me. I was having trouble focusing and couldn’t remember my tasks at hand. I felt heavy, sodden, as if I had just eaten a large Thanksgiving meal. As hard as it was, I attempted to get as much work done as I could before my son woke up.
Soon enough, my son’s alarm went off and within 10 minutes he came downstairs. I was in the middle of cooking him breakfast.
I set his plate down in front of him. He told me he wasn’t hungry. I couldn’t remember the last time my son didn’t eat breakfast. Something is definitely up, I thought.
Casually, I asked him, “Hey buddy, how’d you sleep?”
“Fine…” he replied dully.
“Have any dreams?” I asked.
In a passive manner he said, “No. Not that I remember…”
Although brief, this “conversation” triggered something in me. What that was, I do not know. Maybe I was being naive; maybe I really wanted to believe that nothing was wrong.
My son sat there and played with his food until it was time to catch the bus.
Later that morning, at about 10 AM, I heard a sound coming from the upstairs. It sounded like it was coming from my son’s room again. I couldn’t seem to shake off the happening this time. I disregard it as best I could this time, but another noise followed not a minute after. It sounded like an animal struggling, similar to a bear’s grunt. I headed upstairs.
On my way up I heard a strange scratching sound, almost that of nails being dragged along chalkboard. This is starting to get a bit creepy, I thought. A bead of sweat trickled down my cheek as I tried, rather successfully, to climb the stairs quietly. Just as I reached the third step from the top, there was a loud crash. It scared the hell out of me and caused me to jump. As I landed back on the steps my back foot slipped. I tumbled down the stairs ever so ungracefully.
Having taken partial note of throbbing pains on my arms and legs, I rushed back up the stairs. On my way up, my heart began to race. I wondered, What is in my house? What does it want from me?
All my worst fears became ever present in my mind. Could it be a dangerous burglar? A ferocious animal? The alleged entity hiding in each person’s closet?
All this ran through my head at the speed of light, but stuck in my mind’s eye as pictures, fogging up all rationality. I broke out into a sweat and began to hyperventilate. I became very nervous and felt obscenely heavy, as if I was turned to lead.
Looking back on it now, this seemed to be its effect. Sudden nervousness and a sluggish feel of the body. Not the best feeling to have when you’re being stalked.
*At the time, obviously, I didn’t know about the thing. It was a mystery to me. Unknown. Invisible. Ambiguous.*
As I reached the top landing, another blood-curdling screech came from down the hall – my son’s room. It was so awful it made me cringe and made my stomach churn in nervousness.
*This feeling kind of explained my son’s strange behavior earlier that morning. Something caused him to act in a strange manner.* This realization bothered me. Whatever is in that room…it can control my emotions. Not a very comforting thought.
I grew more and more uneasy as I approached the room. My limbs felt heavier and heavier. My mind raced faster and faster.
Scratching noises emanated from my son’s room. Things were being moved around. Other things were being thrown about or knocked over. This thing in the room clearly wasn’t a small creature.
There were growls, grunts, and groans amongst the crashes of furniture. Deep, low sounds, throaty like that of a bear or wolf.
I mustered up all the nerves I had and crept down the hall. It took everything in me to not scream out of sheer terror. I got closer, closer, closer…
Something bolted out of the room and rushed towards me. Before I could process what it was, I was knocked on my ass, hard. The pain was unreal! I saw spots, stars, birds…I began to feel faint…What was that?…How did it get into my house?…Why did it attack me?…Where is it now?…as I heard it go down the stairs, I faded into darkness…
I regained consciousness and was very very confused, very groggy, and in a lot of pain. I checked my watch. I noticed a crack in the glass of the watch. It read 2:07 PM. I sat up, wincing from the pain in my lower back, and noticed the mess in my son’s room. How did this happen? He’s not even home…? Why am I sitting in the hallway?
Then, I heard clamoring from the kitchen. I remembered! There was some thing in my house! It had been over four hours and it was still there!
I collected myself and ignored all pain. I got up and went into my room, locked the door, and picked up the phone to call animal control. A woman picked up.
“You have reached Animal Control of Pennsylvania, how can we be of service?”
“Yeah I think I have a bear in my house.”
“Brown or black sir?”
“Not sure, it’s just a suspicion. Can someone come and check out the place?”
“We can have someone by you around 4 is that OK?”
“Yes ma’am. Thanks so much.”
“I just need your address, sir.?
I gave her my address.
After some hesitation she said, “Th-Thanks sir…Stay safe.”
Thinking about the ominous response from the woman, I put down the phone and listened. It was quiet. Like just before a storm – a moment of peace. I unlocked the door and left my room.
I crept down the stairs to the kitchen and looked out the window. I watched in horror as I saw it crawling, creeping, shuffling, hobbling, slinking, slithering, and writhing across the backyard grass. It was furry, sleek, tall, short, slimey, skinny, strong, beastly, and boney. Otherworldly, really.
Changing shape each step, moving slowly, changing size, color…What is it?
I stepped closer to the window. Forgetting that the thing knocked everything over, I kicked a pot across the kitchen, smashing it into the dishwasher. To my dismay, the CLANK reverberated throughout the kitchen and caught the thing’s ear…it turned back to the house.
It seemed to be frustrated that I had deceived it’s senses just moments ago when I locked myself in my room. In its blind rage, it morphed into a tall, black, bone-y, winged beast with talons the size of elephant tusks and piercing deep red eyes.
I turned and ran to the cellar and locked the hatch as I heard the glass kitchen doors get smashed to millions of pieces. My heart raced in my chest and thumped in my ears; my stomach in my throat.
Here I am now, sitting in the cellar. I heard my son come home a few hours ago. He went to take a nap I think. Animal Control never showed up either. I think they knew about what I’m dealing with. Didn’t want to risk personnel losses I guess. Haven’t heard much noise from upstairs anyway.
Since my son came home, though, the thing has been scratching a hole in the hatch as to not make too much noise and attract attention. This has been pushing my nerves to their limits. I hope this ends soon…
I am now sure I don’t have much time left. I just wanted to get my story out. I apologize to anyone who reads this and is put in danger. I feel that people should know about what has happened here. I suspect that this has happened before and it will happen again.
This journal was found by the police near remains of the father with the son’s school bag close by. It is speculated that the son called the cops when he heard his father’s screams from the cellar and was then taken away by the thing after checking on the body.
The journal was found in a home by the woods in Lakewood, Pennsylvania. There were no witnesses. There were no traces left by the thing. Only the remains of the father. The destruction dealt to the house was miraculously cleaned up except for the shattered glass.
It is unknown what the thing was or where it came from and what else it can do. There have been mysterious kidnappings since this journal was found. Strangely, the police and their families have been the only ones affected.
Do yourself a favor and share this with no one. Then, maybe, once it gets you, it will be gone forever.