I never believed in the supernatural. I prided myself on the fact that I have never once blamed my problems on a poltergeist or let any of my fears dictate how I lived. I looked down on those who used these seemingly made up entities as an excuse, I believed they were taking the easy solution. It's so simple to explain that feeling of dread when you walk in your house or to simply claim that weird neighbor across from your house is a vampire. I was proud that I could recognize the feeling of dread was simply your own discontent, and the creepy neighbor is just someone who is very different. When you blame your problems on the unknown it is far less scary than acknowledging the real problems in your life. You can't deal with zombies and demons, but you have to deal with mortgages and and existential crises. So when I moved into my new house nothing bothered me. People go missing all the time, and spirits aren't real so what trouble could this house be?
It was cloudy when I first moved in. The winds moaned and the trees danced in the yard celebrating the new tenant. Looking back, it was probably an omen, as if something was trying to tell me that things would not get better as I wished they would. My life was in shambles and I didn't know how to put it together. I used to be a reporter, a good one too. I exposed the corruption in my local government and gained the recognition and respect of those around me. I was the trusted source of the truth. But suddenly everything just stopped,there was nothing to report except useless stories about the rapidly approaching fall foliage or the new phones coming out that will "change the world". I quit and stayed in my apartment for a week trying to find something I could do with myself now that my true calling had been silenced. And then I found the small town of Stillwater and started to investigate its dirty secrets. People had started to go missing in this little innocent town. Children,adults, the elderly, it didn't matter who it was they would all slip through the cracks of society and never appear again. There was no pattern, no motive, and no starting point. I knew I couldn't solve this mystery more than one hundred miles away from the town, so I decided to do the only logical thing. Move into an abandoned house and uncover the truth hiding behind the false sense of security living in a small town brings.
When I first arrived I was surprised by how nice the house was. No evil aura or demons in the basement, just a generally nice house. The only things that bothered me were the questions that came with the house. Which room was the last room the inhabits visited their disappearance? Why did they disappear? These questions did bother me, not the whisperings around town that concerned cults and spirits, but the possibility of a serial killer. I'm much more afraid of a copycat of the Night Stalker, than some 3rd rate poltergeist.
Night came quickly in this town, it was as if the calming light of the sun was afraid to stay in this mysterious place for any longer. So as the sky turned crimson I decided to stop my process of moving in for the day and start to relax for the big day ahead of me. I had planned to start with a bang and interview the sheriff. I was never able to prepare my questions for him that night though. I went to take a quick nap on my bed for just a minute, I was tired and I knew that I also had a long night paired with my long day tomorrow.
When I woke up it was 3:30 a.m., I didn't wake up naturally either I heard a creak in the hallway just outside my door. It was followed by the sounds of running, as if the intruder wanted to be far away from the place I would likely investigate. Thankfully I left the lights on in my room, so I wasn't surrounded by the uncertainty of darkness. I quietly got up from my bed and leaned up against the door. I heard slow and deliberate footsteps, this intruder was trying not to make a sound. Its breathing was slow and heavy, anxious about the actions it was about to take. I knew I couldn't just stand there and let it attack, I needed a plan. But, I wasn't in the best state of mind for plan making so I locked the door and hid under my bed. I did the one cliche thing that would leave me trapped and vulnerable. I was shaking and so was the bed above me, I knew that I needed to find a way out of this room, and I needed to do it quickly. I started to form a new plan, but I stopped in my cold sweat when I heard the scratching. The thing was scratching against the door with one hand and turning the knob with the other. The unlike the knob turning, the scratching wasn't fast and angry, itwas slow and menacing. It didn't rush because it knew it had all the time in the world. By this point I was trying hard not to let out a whimper and give myself away to the beast that already knew my whereabouts. I thought every card had been played, until I heard its gravelly voice. It sounded as if a chain smoker had with a sore throat was talking.
It slowly demanded,"Aaron.....I know you're in there hiding. It's no use, I always catch my prey come out now and everything will be over soon. "
It then let out a screechy cackle which was accompanied by the door slamming open. All I could see was the feet of the intruder. It was barefoot and had hairless and pale feet. They weren't irish pale, they were whiter than an unused coffee filter and everytime they crept closer to the bed the veins pulsed with excitement. It bent down and placed its head underneath the bed about two inches away from mine. Its face was pale like its feet, the lips were jet black as if they had only been used to taunt victims, and red rings circle its eyes which were all white except for a black dot in the center that showed only huger. This is when my survival instinct took over. I pushed the face out of the way and bolted from under the bed, with a primal scream I ran down the stairs and out of the house. Once I head escaped the confines of the death house I kept running against the black pavement leading me to freedom. As my bare feet started to grow numb against the cold tar I heard another terrifyingly gleeful laugh, I turned around and saw the beast chasing after me. I tried to run faster, but my body couldn't take the stress I was putting it under. My only hope was the house with the light on at the end of the street.
By some miracle I was able to use my will in order to propel myself to the house, the light were on, but nobody seemed to be home.  I pounded on the door screaming and crying hoping that someone would come and help me. I need an angel to descend from the sky and give me salvation. No angel came only an old man who looked out his window in confusion. I rapidly explained to him my situation in a panicked state hoping he would help me, give me shelter, or kill the beast. As he was about to reply the monstrosity of a laugh returned, the creature was about ten feet away from me.I looked the man in his eyes and asked for compassion or some other human emotion that would save me.
He replied,"I'm sorry, if it feeds it will leave us alone."
With tears in his eyes the man turned off his lights and turned his back on me. Leaving me outdoors like the meat sacrifice I was. I had just enough time to screech an obscenity before I felt its coldclaws dig into my flesh.
When I woke up I was tied to a steel table what looks like a cave surronded by bones. Sometimes I see its red eyes in the darkness watching me and the yellow teeth form into a gleeful smile. I knowI have limited time and soon this freak will grow bored with its sadistic game and end me. All I have left is the hope that someone like me will investigate this and save me before it's too late. I now live my numbered days in fear, with the occasional cackle ringing in my ear.