CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - 7 SCARY r/nosleep Horror Stories to lay down and sleep to

Episode Date: June 8, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORIES-►0:00 "The Reason Why We Don't Go Camping Any More" Creepypasta►20:38 "I guess the forest demon can't swim" Creepypasta►56:11 "Everyone gets a mask" Creepypasta►1:14:14 "There's a place where the lines between worlds get blurred. You'd do best to avoid it" Creepypasta►1:38:-09 "A bird in the backyard is building a nest out of the strangest things" Creepypasta►2:04:28 "My friend's cat has very strange care instructions" CreepypastaCreepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO-SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd...iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast...CREEPY THUMBNAIL ART BY►Nakshatra Solanki: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/neK1oSUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS-►"Good Places to Start"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7YCb...►"Personal Favourites"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEa2R...►"Written by me"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gX6RA...►"Long Stories"- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...FOLLOW ME ON-►Twitter: https://twitter.com/Creeps_McPasta►Instagram: https://instagram.com/creepsmcpasta/►Twitch: http://www.twitch.tv/creepsmcpasta►Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CreepsMcPastaCREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪-This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only-

With the weather becoming warm again and our local parks opening, I now have to think of good reasons to turn down invitations to go camping from friends and family. While I was still a teenager, I went as often as I could. Any weekend I was free, I was in the woods relaxing. Sometimes I brought friends, sometimes I went by myself. After finishing school, my life had become fairly hectic. I still did my best to take a few camping trips during the year. I'm glad I was so stubborn on the idea of going out in the woods

when the chance arose because I had met my husband on a camping trip The story of how he met is a bit long and embarrassing on my part I got out for a quick washing break in the middle of the night An owl or some sort of other screeching night creature started me And I took off running back to where I thought my tent was In the darkness of the moonless night I caught a tree root and broke my ankle

I was unable to move until morning I was in so much pain and embarrassment I accepted my death ready to be a nice meal for the wildlife I was rescued by Nicholas Even back then He was a large intimidating looking man Full beard axe in hand He looked about ready to chop me into pieces

My husband to be was cursed With looking the complete opposite of his nature He carried me out of the woods and came to the hospital with me because none of my family members were available in such short notice. We had barely been apart since that day and married the first chance we got.

We met in the woods so camping held a special meaning for us. Every trip was almost like a honeymoon. Although we thought we clearly looked like a loving couple on our trips, most people we met didn't clue into that fact. They all assumed we were just two good friends drinking beer and fishing.

It was a game of ours to play a call and see how longer it would take people to start questioning things. Near the end of summer, we reserved one spot in the popular local area. The camping areas were spread out far enough for some sort of privacy, but a family we often camped close by and met at the lake for fishing still had no idea about us after four years of seeing each other. They saw our wedding rings and commended how nice it was for two good friends to be away from our wives for a long weekend.

Being in the woods holds such good memories for me. But it only takes one night to ruin everything. After what happened last summer, I refused to ever be in the forest again. The last time we went, it was a very normal experience.

Because we were veterans at that point, setting up a campsite took an hour at most. Before anyone else had really arrived and finished setting up, Nicholas was gathering firewood and I'd started to walk down to the lake. If I was lucky enough, I could catch something for our lunch.

But we always brought something for a backup, just in case nothing was biting. Sitting on the edge of the calm lake, I started to bait my hook and set up my fishing rod. It was still a little cool from the early morning. By the afternoon, I was certain it would warm up. I feared for summer storms rolling in because the radio on the way warned of thunderstorms. storms over the weekend, but that morning the weather was perfect. I got comfortable and threw out an almost perfect cast. I was waiting for Nicholas to come and join me,

when I saw a blur of white through the trees on the other side of the lake. I had to squint, but I could have sworn I saw a person walking through the trees, getting closer to the lake's edge. When the figure stopped to the edge of the water, I lifted my hand to give them a friendly one. wave. I thought it was a woman. I couldn't see any features besides a white dress and long hair flowing in the breeze. She must have seen me from across the lake because she raised her arm and waved back. Who were you waving at? I nearly jumped out of my skin. Nicholas was pretty silent for a man

his size. Without me hearing him, he'd come up behind me. A woman over there. She must be out for a walk because there aren't any campsites in the other side of the lake. I don't see her. I raised an eyebrow, confused at him. I had only turned away for a second. I didn't think she could go back into the wood so fast. But when I looked back, she was gone. The lake rippled slightly from the breeze.

I didn't even hear a normal bird song or see any of the friendly waterfowl that made the lake their home. I didn't think I imagined her or got caught. confused by reflection off the lake. But it wasn't really that big of a deal. I dropped the matter and helped set up a spot for Nicholas. While he'd been collecting firewood, he had run into one of the regulars we'd often saw at the park camping.

We often shared anything we fished up with them. Due to a medical emergency, they had to leave the campgrounds. Their son had gotten very sick and they weren't going to risk him sleeping it off. They had grabbed their important items in a hurry. They knew that myself and Nicholas would be close by and came over asking for a favour. They trusted us to break down their campsite and pleaded for us to watch over their bigger items.

If they didn't come back for them at the end of the weekend, we could leave their things at the Rangers' office. Nicholas agreed. I hope their son would be all right. He may have got away from his parents and eaten a berry he shouldn't have. we would gladly watch over their things. It would be the first year at this site without someone being close by. The rest of the day went by completely normal. We broke down our neighbour's camping site and cooked up the two fish I'd caught.

A bit on the small size, but they would do. The only strange thing I noticed during the day was how silent the woods were. I barely heard any birds and they sounded very far away when they did chirp. We both turned in shortly after the sun had set. We had plans to go on a long hike the next day. Being well rested would be a good idea. I was getting older and wondering how much longer I would sleep on the hard ground floor. Being wrapped in big, comfortable bear arms didn't help.

I don't know how it started, but we made a game for nights we couldn't fall asleep. One of us would start with an animal with a weapon. Then the next person was saying an animal with a different weapon that could beat the first in a fight. It would quickly get into ridiculous territory like a shark riding an army of crabs as his weapon. Whoever laughs first loses. We spent many nights snuggled close

and giggling like teen girls and a sleepover. A falcon with a fencing sword, Nicholas started off. I raise you a parrot with double daggers, those wavy ones. shoot, that's a good one. An ostrich. No weapon. It's just really mean. I've had the giggle start bubbling up and I forced it down.

I paused to think of something, not ready to back out of our game. But a noise outside a tent made me stop. I set up slightly trying to hear better. I could have sworn. I heard a scream. I'd been out in the woods often enough to know what the wildlife sounds like. This was for certain a human scream. It sounded off in the distance.

The trees muted sounds, so I wondered just how close the person was. I heard it again, a long wailing screech that made my stomach drop. Did you? I started to speak, but Nicholas grabbed me and forced me back down. He held me tightly, and it was somewhat out of character for him. The suddenness and his mood shift frightened me more than the the faint screaming outside. Nick, I said, but was quickly hushed by him.

I looked up at him in the darkness, trying to make out his expression. I could feel his hands shaking slightly against me, and I couldn't remember ever seeing him scared. He was the big, tough, brave husband, the one who answered phone calls and ushered spiders out of the house. He was scary and strong, and could chop firewood in one swing, and yet, Yet, he was holding onto my small frame, as if I was some sort of protective ward against whatever was outside. My heart was beating so fast, I nearly didn't hear what scared him so badly. I heard a crunching of footsteps outside.

Someone was wandering around our campsite. I suddenly knew when Nicholas shushed me. The only weapon we had was the axe for firewood. The axe that I was pretty sure had been left outside. our tent. We also had bear mace, but it was pretty old, and if the wind blew the wrong way, the bear mace would just be a setback. I held my husband, as I tried to listen for more footsteps, praying I was just hearing things. Our food had been put up. We knew how to keep animals away. The soft crunching of dirt didn't sound like a large creature walking around. But I heard breathing.

heavy breathing that did sound like it belonged to a bear. My mind started to race. I wondered how some crazy person who lived in the woods year round came across our campsite and just wanted to steal food. I didn't know what to do in that moment. I wanted them to just leave. My big, scary-looking husband may be able to frighten them away, but if they had a gun, we couldn't do anything about it.

And then there was a... screaming. I could still hear it between the soft footsteps and heavy breathing coming from outside. Go away, go away, go away. In that moment, I was so frozen in fear, I couldn't do much else but repeat that mantra, hoping my mental prayer would be enough to force the unwanted guest away. Nicholas had been doing much more thinking than myself. He'd wrapped his arms around me and buried me so close to him. If someone opened the tent, it would look like he was alone. If someone attacked, they would go for him first, unaware of the smaller second person in the tent. It would give me the first chance to attack back or by some miracle get away.

We couldn't go outside. It was clear by the footsteps. There was more than one person. The best plan we had was to be quiet and hope the people left. If they took our supplies, we didn't mind paying for new ones. I was still scared out of my mind. when I heard a new noise. My lungs felt like they would burst from fear.

When I heard the tent zipper start to move, so I slowly watched it out of the corner of my eye as it started to open from the top. I couldn't see outside, even when it was halfway open. I felt Nicholas tense up. He may jump up and defend us at any second. I didn't want that. I didn't want him to be hurt.

I just wanted whoever was out there to go away. the zipper stopped halfway. I hoped it would remain like that. I still heard the breathing of the person outside. To my horror, I saw something come into our tent. A clawed hand. The claws were curled and were the size of my fingers. Even in my fear, I thought it was a joke.

Some sort of costume prop. No animal I knew of had hands so human-like, and no humans had claws. I wondered if some other camper decided to pull a prank on us. A single claw reached down and started to force the zipper open more. This had to be a joke. It had to be. A smell came in with a small breeze.

It was a little musty and somewhat similar to wet fur. I didn't know what we would do once the zipper was fully open and we could see what was outside. But thank God we never needed to find. find out. I heard a scream. It was so loud, it sounded like it came directly behind our tent. I jumped and muffled my own scream into Nicholas's chest. The scream kept going. A long while of true and not to fear. Whoever was outside, either startled by the scream or decided to follow it.

The screaming sound started to move away from our tent, and the footsteps and heavy breathing followed. I don't know how long we stayed, just holding each other. listening. It felt like hours, but it was only a few minutes. I let out a small noise when my husband shot up and bolted outside. He came back a few seconds later holding our firewood axe. Both of us sat, facing the now closed tent flap, axe at the ready. And we sat like that the entire night. I was so wired, I was wide awake when the light became grey outside our tent. During the rest of the night, I heard no one back in our camp. But I still heard that horrible scream from time to time in the distance.

Our plan was the pack up as fast as we could and leave the equipment we had been guarding at the Ranger Station. Aside from our tracks all over our campsite, nothing had been disturbed and touched. They looked almost human, but with what looked like claw marks dragging in the dirt. Hey folks, early morning. We both jumped to the voice.

I led out a small scream I wasn't proud of, but when we spun around, we saw a forest ranger. I knew his face from years of coming here, but not his name. He noticed our fear and held out a hand trying to calm us. Are you too all right? Did you see a bearer something? he asked. Or something, Nicholas confirmed. The next few minutes was us telling the ranger what had happened last night.

I was still shaking, so Nicholas stuck over speaking. But what confused me was he didn't mention the screaming that scared off our unwanted guests. That sounds strange right. Maybe some kids playing a prank, the ranger said with a shrug. There was screaming, I stuttered, and both men looked at me. I heard screaming all night. Well, you always had better hearing than me. Maybe one was off in the woods trying to scare us.

Nicholas said slowly with a nod It worked I grumbled All right Well I'll look into this Brank or not This isn't acceptable Aside from that

I came down to tell you folks There's a storm blowing in soon It's up to you if you want to stay But I would advise against it It's going to be a really bad one And the last time we had a storm this bad People got blown away with their tents If you want to pack up

We'll refund you for the last two days he paid for We were going to leave either way The storm just gave us a good excuse. The Ranger was kind enough to help us carry the extra gear after we told him it belonged to the campers who left the other day. He would walk with us back to the Ranger Station. We didn't want a refund for our last two days we would be camping for. It would be a donation to help the park pay for whatever was needed.

Our campsite was empty. All three of us were ready to go. And it was a good thing we left when we did. If we stayed, we would have died or gotten very hurt. We'd only been a few feet away from the sight when a massive crack and horrible sound came behind us. I'd just calmed down a little,

but the thundering sound made me cry out again and jumped nearly ten feet in the air. All of us turned, trying to figure out what had made such a sound. Where I&T campsite had been was now covered with a dead tree that had just fallen over. It crashed right up.

on top where our tent would have been. I was certain if we stayed, that tree would have killed us. All three of us stood in shock, staring at the fallen tree. I started to walk up to it for a reason I didn't know. I just felt like I had to get a better look. Our campsite had been ruined, littered with fallen branches. Nicholas had come up and took my arm to gently take me back to the path. We didn't know if the tree had knocked against another,

making it more likely to fall as well. That area was dangerous. I let myself be guided back, but I saw the base of the fallen tree. From the freshly turned up roots, I thought I saw something tangled in the brown roots, something white and straight sticking out of the ground, something that looked like a human femur.

We got to the ranger station and made a more official report of our night, The sky had already darkened, the storm coming in faster than expected. Other Rangers had gone off to warn people, and the parking lot was slowly emptying out of cars and campers who wisely decided to leave. I called the Ranger office a week after, asking about if they ever found out who had tried scaring us away. The Ranger who picked up the phone was the one we dealt with, so he was glad to talk with me. They hadn't found out anything. The park emptying made it hard

And the storm washed away anything useful He also wanted to tell me something He didn't know if he was legally allowed to yet But he didn't want me to find out later and get freaked out The tree that had fallen over Did in fact have human remains tangled into the roots They found one intact femur And some broken bones looking like ribs

When they started looking they found more bones buried and scattered around. They assumed the body had been there for years and they hadn't found enough to determine who they were or how they died. Also tangled in the roots was some fabric that looked like it had been a white dress or skirt at one point.

For those past few years we had been camped right next to a human body without ever knowing. If that tree hadn't fallen over, I doubted they would ever have been found. I didn't tell Nicholas what I'd found. I think he doesn't want to upset me by talking about the trip. He didn't seem very bothered over what happened, but knows it stressed me out.

I'd nightmares for months. I try and keep an eye on seeing if there are any updates on the case, but except of the fact they most likely won't ever know who died or who'd been buried beneath that tree. For how many people go missing in the woods, I think Camper's. camping near a death site is pretty common, more common than what most people would think. I'm thankful we got out of those woods alive. I'm a bit of a city person now, and we would like to keep it that way. I was travelling in my mom's van.

The back trunk was packed with sports gear, banquet utensils and kitchenware. I was trailing 80 kilometres down an unfinished road, though the speed limit was set higher. I had always felt uneasy travelling in places I'd never been because I had a tendency to miss a turn and get lost. The drive from the small town to the condo is only supposed to be 30 minutes

but I've been driving for 45 already and still hadn't yet reached it nor had I seen any signs. It was a clear day on the road with a few clouds in the sky. The air was crazy hot and my face was sweltering. I was already blasting the AC

on the dash to its highest setting and set all the vents pointing to my face and my pits. I don't do well in the heat. It was not my decision to go out there at the time. My name is Weston. My family calls me Wes or Wesie, if they want to get on my nerves. And a family reunion was the very reason for my long drive. Eventually, me, my family, my grandparents on both sides,

a wide range of my cousins, aunt and uncles, would all congregate to a large and busy new condo being built out in the middle of the wilderness. One of my uncles had snatched it up right away as soon as it was being marked for sale. The turnover will be massive, was something along the lines of what he said. They were only building a few of these properties out here, as the place was previously a protected National Park. Due to budget cuts, the conserved property line of the land was cut back, and lying for the sale of new infrastructure to be built around it. deeper parts of the park, and who wouldn't want a beautiful, small, secluded mansion in the middle

of the forest? I'd been allowed to show up a few days earlier before the rest of the family arrived in order to prepare the house for them. I had most of the amenities while my cousin, Reese, had shown up the previous day with a truckload of food. So, together, we could just unpack everything, explore, and hang out by ourselves until the rest of the family arrived. This would have been the relaxing bit.

the vacation if it were not for the fact that I hated Reese. Reese was like the frat boy without a fraternity, the jock without a team, the gangster without a gang, the bully without a crew, a one-man band of off-key violins, kazoo's and broken bagpipes, just an all-round douchebag.

That Andy hit to my sister at the last family reunion. It was so awkward for everyone involved as my sister was ignorant to his advances. She was thinking that his motives couldn't possibly be anything but innocent because we're all cousins. The road swerved around a sharp bend and suddenly I saw the turn off. I slammed the brakes and dried dust from the tires flew into the air. I looked back at the driveway and did a six-point turn on the narrow road to maneuver the van back around. I rolled into the large dirt driveway, still partially under construction.

A lot was quite huge. I could see a large pile of bulldoze trees and rubble in the corner The driveway would have definitely been big enough for some of my uncles to come They own large motorhomes and campervans that were basically small houses on their own Unlike the road the house and the yard were essentially completed Though it was two stories high It didn't quite peek over the trees leaving it shaded And stay well hidden

But it was no quaint cabin in the woods and was built modern style I could hear a faint thumping of bass coming from the upper floor of the house Good to know Reese had settled in I parked and clam it out of my van grabbed a large duffel bag of gear and started lumbering up towards the house with it The music got louder as I entered through the door

and I started yelling for Reese Hello, it's Wes I shouted I received no answer And immediately started losing the energy To care enough for his attention I dropped off the bag in the corner of the room and went back to the van to continue to unpack things miraculously re-s appeared after bringing in the final lawn chair into the house

sub-cus he raised an open bottle of beer to me good to see you made it he offered a second unopened bottle to me I shook my head I don't drink I stated I was pretty sure he knew already come on there's no one else around

The fact that I'm underraged isn't the reason I don't drink, I push back. We'll get some liquor in you before the week is up. I groaned at the thought of him and some of my uncles, tidely pushing beer down my throat. I doubt that. But I didn't want to antagonize him more. Which one is your room? I asked. Top floor, the big suite, claimed him for myself.

First come first serve. Great, then I'll pick the one opposite. He flipped me the bird and smiled. He then chugged the rest of his first beer and belched as he started to open the other one. I believed he was being deliberately extra immature in my presence. I made my way to the basement, which had a billiard table and a couple more rooms. I thought of playing a game, but I didn't know where the balls were, and I would either play by myself or with Reese.

I'd prefer a nap. I put my back in the quiet room in the corner. It was almost soundproof, as I could. I could barely hear Reese's base thumping through the walls. I was tired, sweaty and hungry. I changed my shirt and cursed myself for not bringing more clothing as I didn't account for how many I would soak through. Back then, I was slightly bigger and didn't have a lot of muscle.

I just got out of high school, and without gym class, I was starting to let myself go. I went upstairs to the kitchen looking for food. The kitchen contained lots of snacks, a freezer full of meat. some cupboards full of junk food and a fridge full of beer too full of beer there wasn't a lot of room for other food of actual substance who gave Reese the shopping list I went to find him there was a living space on the third floor he'd already set up the game console to play some first-person shooter you know this gonna be kids at the reunion right what are they gonna eat I asked don't worry about that they got hot dogs and cheese he raised the controller at me. Want to play a few rounds? Nah, I'm starving. I guess I'll make some hot dogs then. Ah, me too, thanks, an extra cheese. I didn't say anything. I knew that if I made food just for myself, Reese would probably have claimed it from me. I retreated back down the stairs and started boiling some water

for the hot dogs. It was my preferred way of cooking them. I began toasting the buns and realized the oven element and the toaster were just adding to the already sweltering temperature. I looked for the thermostat while contemplating sweating on Reese's hot dog. I couldn't find it along the walls. However, as I was looking around, I noticed the kitchen had a large glass sliding door that faced a pool. I looked eagerly at the cover and top, wondering if it had been filled already and if the filters were set yet.

I walked over to the glass and stared longingly. Then I opened the door to notice the latch was broken. Was that my concern? I need to remember to tell my uncles about it, but it wasn't like we were worried about robbers in the area, just more concerned about an overly clever bear. The door slid open, and I meanded out to the edge of the cover and lifted it. Unfortunately, the pool was empty.

I thought we should fill it before the family got there, though I definitely wanted a dip for myself, thinking about how cool the water would be. I looked around for a hose and stuck it into the open pool cover flap. I turned the water on full blast and watch it pour into the cement pool, noticing it was going to take a while. I ran back inside to finish making the hot dogs and then went back up the stairs to feed Reese.

We actually played some video games together. Each of them a different variation of first-person shooter and each of them a different variation of ways to lose the Reese. The longer we played, the worse it got. He would annihilate me and refuse to just be on my team and play against the computer or the campaign. Eventually, I got tired of it and gave up.

Reese badgered me. Oh, really? You sure you don't want to try again? I think you got real close last night to take him one of my lives. I was starting to get scared. No, thanks. I think I'm going to go outside and explore. I said, knowing that he would not join me. Nature was on his thing. Ah, suit yourself, Boy Scout.

Reese turned back to his game Hey, I'm filling the pool by the way Could you check it every once in a while Make sure it doesn't overflow before I get back Hey, that's a good idea Swimsuit summer, nice He gave me a thumbs up Huh, totally

I forced a response Hoping he wasn't making any sort of reference to my sister As I headed outside I made the detour to check the pool before I left The water level had risen But not by much It felt safe to leave to go on the hike in case Reese decides to flood the place. I headed out into the wilderness, going slow and making note of the direction that I came.

Eventually found a hiking trail nearby. I knew there were some in the area. They probably used to be bigger and more populated before the construction started. As I followed it down, I noticed some deer tracks. They were very obviously imprinted in the mud, but I couldn't tell you how old. they were. Actually, they could have been goat tracks, but I wasn't sure. The sound was deafing, and by that, I mean it sounded like you were deaf. The trees were just so thick, it blocked out all the sounder echoes. There was no breeze rustling the branches and barely any birds tweeting.

If there was any wildlife, they had other places to be apparently. Even though I was outside, I couldn't help but feel claustrophobic. The woods were a mix of different types of leafy trees and tall pine trees with leaves that were alive at the top but seemed more dead at the bottom. The other trees were all thick and stumpy and there were not that many young trees. It made it feel like a very old forest. It also smelled amazing and the shade was keeping me cool. I trotted down the trail. I was still sweaty but managed to enjoy myself, not huffing and puffing but still getting my exercise. The trail must to be easy at one point, but when I was on it, the ground was covered in branches and dead

leaves or debris. Like a storm had passed, I guess this was a part of the park's trail they stopped caring for after the budget cuts. There were even large rocks I had to scramble over. I couldn't tell where they had broken off of and rolled from. I began falling around as I climbed over things. I imagined I was running through an obstacle course. I'd jump off a low rock onto another rock and limbo under a branch. I would swing around trees using branches to give myself momentum. I hopped from rock to log to dirt mound. I started huffing, but I felt like a little kid again.

The trail sloped down, and instead of carefully and waywardly walking, I flew as I descended, kicking my legs behind and forcing them forward fast enough to catch my next step, just enough to stop me from somersaulting head over heels. The ground started evening out again. But I still had some speed going. I saw another odd shape, and darkly coloured boulder up ahead, and mentally prepared to leap over it like a show horse. My large body thumped the earth as I bowed forward each foot hitting the ground hard,

counting my steps and preparing for which foot I would press off of. I picked up my already max speed as I galloped to the black rock and jumped high like a track and field star. Wait, what the hell? I shouted midair. When I landed, I almost roared my ankle, and I stumbled to do a double take on the object. The boulder, upon closer look, wasn't actually a boulder. And as I stared at it, I began to sweat harder than when I was running up the rocks. It had an odd bent shape to it, and was black leather.

I immediately thought it was a dealing body in a jacket, deformed, broken, then tossed into the woods to be decomposed and forgotten. But it wasn't that. I extended my foot and poked the corner with the end of my shoe. It tipped over. A seat? I asked the inanimate object. It was indeed, as I was examining it, a seat.

Looked like an uncomfortable car seat. I first thought dirt bike, since it was on the trail or a quad bike. But it just didn't seem to make sense. I thought maybe there's a secret treehouse or cabin, and this was a furniture item of that place. But that was reaching even further. Maybe something exploded and it landed here and there's all sorts of vehicle parts all over the place. My mind continued its mental gymnastics making up more and more impossible things to the backstory of the seat.

But then it instantly was recognisable. A seat to heavy machinery. Like a backhoe, bulldozer, excavator. It was becoming clearer the more I thought about it. Also, the more I looked at it, the more I convinced myself that I was right. There were these machines in the area, and there was some clearing and construction going on. It had to be, and one of the workers, seeing that it was broken, dumped it out here as garbage. Disgraceful, overpaid litterers, I thought out loud.

But that really didn't make sense either. There was a dump truck for all the forest debris, and they could have just put it in there. and if they were going to dump it, why all the way out here? I bent over to touch the leather armrest and rolled it over. It was shredded on the opposite side. The seat was cut deep into its interior by what looked like a large knife, like someone slashed it a few times as an anger relief practice. As I was holding the seat at an angle to get a better look at the damage,

my fingers slipped on the leather and it rolled back over. I became aware of how sweat you. was at the time. Though shaded in the trees, my body was worked up over the excitement of the dashing and parkour I did along the trail. I saw that the sun had dipped a little further behind the branches and realized how much time had passed. I decided to turn back. I thought about looking the seat back with me, but just thinking about it made me more tired and sweaty. Instead I kicked and booted it off the trail into some fans. Out of sight, out of mind, I said, at the turn and waltzed myself back up the trail.

When I reached the house, I stopped by the pool to see how much it had filled. It was almost full. Enough to swimming, but just below the deep end ladder, to be difficult to pull myself out of. A little bit longer, and I could dip my feet in the cool, blue liquid. I reached my hand out to feel the temperature. It was chilling as it was just out of the cold water tap. It seemed like ice water compared to the hot summer air. I shivered with delight.

I loved the cold, but I knew it was going to be a shock to my sweaty body. I figured I would wait just a little bit longer for the pump to heat it up. I went inside to change into my swimming shorts. Upstairs, I heard video game music, but it was looping. I climbed at the steps and peered into the room to find Reese had passed out in the beanbag chair, and the game menu was up. I thought it was a great opportunity for my own peace and quiet. I decided I was going to stay up and see the stars

I grabbed my phone and headphones then went to find the pool lounge chairs I set them up around the deck and got comfy in one of the fathers from the house in the shadow of the tree shame they couldn't leave a few more trees for shade I thought out loud I shifted the pool chair to add more of a decline

and got comfy in it it was one of those sort of hammock types where you feel like you're falling into it I turned on the tunes and started playing some dumb puzzle games on my phone. We hadn't got an internet connection out there yet, but I really thought it was a conspiracy by the parents to not install it out there before the reunion, forcing us to get closer. I took a big breath and sighed,

soaking in the precious quiet and private hours I would be able to have before the weekend started. The sun was going down behind the trees and shadows were growing. I was disappointed I wouldn't be able to be able to be able to. up to see a nice sunset, but figured the stars would be worth it anyway. It would be wonderful to see them without the city light pollution. Out here, the only lights were from my phone and the window on the third floor of the house. It was the perfect night.

A very fast hour went by. I noticed the changing animal sounds as I heard more crickets and other bugs. The day birds had gone to the nests, but I could swear I heard an owl. I expected to see more, but the park was so vast that you'd have to be really lucky and keen-eyed to see anything of notice or maybe some night vision goggles. It got darker and darker. Eventually I noticed one after the other, little stars started to appear.

I turned off my phone and set it down so I could let my eyes adjust to the smaller ones. Just minutes and a few sweaty blinks later, the Milky Way showed itself, and it was gorgeous and huge. huge. After a while, I started feeling very small and aware of myself. My mind slipped into retrospective thoughts and existentialism. Overthinking, I began to be mindful of my loud breath and started to breathe on command. Wait, that wasn't me. I looked towards the house. The light was still on, so Reese still should have been up there. I appeared across the still pool water, but didn't see anything towards the

dark trees. I looked away from the house and more towards the direction behind me, the direction of deeper in the woods. Just then, I thought I saw a quick flash of eyes reflect in the dark. My back muscles tightened up and my hair stood up. I instantly started sweating more than I had all day. I kept on staring into the nothingness, hoping that I didn't actually see anything or that it would go away. But then I heard a twig or branch snap and I instantly remembered the existence of bears and cougars. I gripped the sides of my chair.

My buddy and mind debated whether I should slowly peel away or make a mad crazy dash to the door. A blast of air hit the side of my face, and I freaked. I tried to jump off the lounger, but I fell. My leg slipped through the space in the slot to the chair, and my anger was caught in the folds. It felt ironic at the time, because it felt like I was caught in the latches of a bear trap

and was about to be eaten by a bear. But... It wasn't a bear. Nothing came out of the darkness. It towered over me. I'd say it was almost nine feet tall and embodied the word, darkness. Every inch of it was covered

in jet black, wispy hair. As it lumbered nearer, the hair swayed like water. Its face was covered in the hair as well, but I could see its eyes. Beardy, blackness and expressionless. where I assumed his mouth was supposed to be it dripped with saliva that landed by my feet

though it stood on two legs its arms were gangly and hung down to its ankles I screamed my arms pushed myself backwards in a clumsy manner I sometimes slipped and I would slam my elbow into the concrete but pain was not the first thing in my mind I gained a little bit of distance from the creature I could see breathing heavy and fast

It went. It pivoted towards me and its knees bent. Getting ready to pounce? I scrambled away faster, kicking my trapped leg, trying furiously to fling the heavy chair off. Instead, I managed to land my foot on the ground and gave a hard push. I propelled myself backwards enough to land on the edge of the pool. My tailbone hit in the corner before I splashed into the water.

I sank and looked up in fear. I waited for it to follow me in. But through the surface, I saw its black silhouette against the starry sky and pushed away from the wall, swimming towards the center of the pool. With my clothes heavy and the chair still wrapped around my ankle, I began to sink. I was running out of air. I needed air. I pushed my arms harder against the pressure of the water. My chest hurt.

It was cold. I felt my ears start ringing and my head wanted to explode. I kicked ferociously at the chair that entangled my leg. my shoe at that point had soaked with water and became heavy enough to easily slide off. After that, it was easy to just slip out of the plastic folds that had grasped me. With a chair gone, a dead weight was dropped from my body, and I finally was able to gain some momentum upward. A final, exasperated push from all four limbs let me breach the surface.

I sputtered and gagged from the droplets that lined my throat. Violently retching and treading water, my body ached with a desire for a steady ground to, to puke on. Gulping the fresh night air, I slowed my thrashing. With the white wash gone and my eyes clear, I turned back to where I fell. To my dreaded horror, the demonic figure was still there at the edge of the pool. Its paws, or hands, or whatever it had, clutched the corner of the water, leaning forward with freakish intent. Almost like a statue, it made no noise, but I could see its chest pulsate quickly in the dark, like a tired dog panting after

a run. I expected it to growl or bark as I stared at it, but I still couldn't make out a mouth amongst the black fur covered face. Not wanting to see its teeth, I turned and started paddling towards the opposite side of the pool. Very quickly, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted movements in the shadows. Was it trying to get me at the other side? terrified I turned my attention away from the edge to see legs

the creature moved so swiftly running on all fours and taking giant almost graceful strides it was about to reach the edge of the pool closest to me I immediately stopped paddling towards it I brace myself for it to pounce on me and imagine suffocating in fur water and possibly sharp teeth pierce my skin

the creature did not slow down as it neared me it charged and with one hand grouted the edge of the pool and with the other it reached out and swiped me. I screamed. It did not come close, but I couldn't help but shut my eyes in fear. When I opened them, I saw a clawed hand, almost human, except with longer fingers reaching for me. It was desperate to grab my shirt or my skin and pull me towards it. Yet it did not want to jump in the water. thought appeared. Can't swim, can you?

You stupid thing, I screamed. I don't know why I said that, but I wasn't thinking clearly. It didn't even react at all to me screaming at it. I thought it would try again, play it smarter this time. In the water, I took off my shirt and my other shoe. The clothes, except for my undershorts, were no longer weighing me down. I slowly paddled to the edge of the pool opposite to the sliding door of the house. It moved cautiously along the edge of the pool, its beauty eyes staring down at me.

I remembered my swimming lessons from elementary school. I forced myself to take big, long breaths, to try and slow my heartbeat down. I dove under the surface, down deeper in the pool's steps. My plan was to push off the wall and race the beast of the door. I remembered the latch was broken, but maybe I could delay it long enough to lock myself in the bathroom or one of the bedrooms, then I would scream Reese to call 911. Underwater, I raided both feet against the wall and shifted my weight. Right, as I was about to kick off, a long black hand appeared in front of my face. I couldn't help but scream underwater.

I snapped my mouth shut and ducked. With a quick hard force for my legs, I shot away from the wall, trying to gain as much distance as I could underwater. I had already lost so much air, and I was panicking again, and I needed to resell. surface. When I did look ahead, I saw no creature. I swam like a mad fish, wishing at the time I had fins. I didn't bother look behind me, but as my arms stroked the water ahead of my face, I peaked out the side. Through strokes, I caught a glimpse of the monstrous being lumbering on the deck side. One of its arms now wet and skinny looked thinner and scraggly.

I tried to swim faster, but my lungs could not keep up with the strenuous demand. and I was losing speed. But I reached the edge. I pulled myself up and got one foot on the ground. But then, it leaped. I thought it would lose speed at the sharp corner. I thought it might slip. Instead, his long black legs stamped down on the inner side of the pool's edge.

Its nails claw the cement and gain leverage. And in response, I used my other foot to send myself backwards, back into the water. I sank down once again, facing the creature. I saw no change in expression, no show of frustration, like it didn't have a hunting instinct, and it just wanted to kill me out of spite, territory dispute, or some other hidden purpose. I swam far away enough from the edge and resurfaced.

I was more than exhausted at that point. I just wanted to lie down, and that gave me the brilliant idea to play dead. Maybe if the creature just wanted me to be dead, dead and didn't want to weep me, it would be satisfied. I tried to slow my breathing down. It was hard enough after the mad dashed to the door and lactic acid started building up badly in my forearms,

and the sight of the horrific demon-like thing didn't help either. I thought about faking a drowning, but was too tired to pretend to thrash about in the water, so I just rolled over onto my back and relaxed. Looking at the sky helped me get my breathing back to a normal enough pace. where I was able to take deeper, bigger breaths. I bobbed and floated for about a minute. The water rolled over me, and I held my breath when my face was covered.

I was doing the best dead man's float I could. The break I gave my arms helped them feel better. They swayed lifelessly in the water. Out of the reflection, I saw a shadow fly through the air. For a moment, I thought it was a bird. Out of nowhere a rock hit the back of my head My teeth knocked and pain shot through my skull I turned myself upright and looked around to see a pool chair flying in my direction

I raised my arm and protected my face from the chair The object clashed into me with great force My head went under water unexpectedly And I flout about getting back up above the surface My chest hurt from the exhaustion The muscles stung in my arms and legs I was taking big breaths now. I thought if it could force enough air in my lungs, it would help me keep float better.

Once I inhaled, some more water droppers got caught in my throat and I had a coughing fit. The fit only made it worse for me to keep my head above water. I swallowed and yelled, exasperating my voice. I noticed movement in my peripheral vision. It wasn't from the creature. Through glazed eyes, I saw its shadow, just frozen down. at the water's edge. This other shadow came from the house's top window.

It was Reese. Reese, I screamed. My throat croaked out the sound like a pre-rebescent boy. Help! I continued to cry. I even attempted waving my arm for attention. But as a whirled away, I saw the shadow duck away and disappear.

I cried out his name a few more times till it was just turned to crying. I sobbed as my slight glimmer of hope faded, just as fast as it came. I continued to cry and swallow water. I could barely keep my mouth up. My body ached to swing to the edge, but my mind feared getting ripped apart

or eaten by the creature. Then my leg cramped. The pain shot through my thigh like a metal pole had been rammed through the bone. I held onto it and started sinking. I was so tired, I just wanted to haul my leg for a little bit. But then I needed air,

so my arms exerted. the extra effort to lift my body back up. Then my arms started cramping. Not as sudden as my newly dead weight of a leg, but a slow burn of the muscles. I started sinking again. Curling my body into the fetal position, I descended into the dark waters.

My ears rang until they popped. A new pain entered my head. I thought for a second time, maybe I could kick the bottom with my good leg and shoot back up to the top. Why was that pull so deep anyway? or maybe it wasn't and it just seemed like it at the time.

I really needed air. When I got to the bottom, I kicked to the ground lazily. It barely got me up. I sank back down and kicked again. I needed air. Everything was moving in slow motion. The pain was stronger, but I cared less about it.

I tried harder to push to the water, which was beginning to feel more like a sludge. I grabbed my throat and squeezed. My lungs demanded air immediately. I just wanted the release of holding my breath. I struggled harder against gravity, the weight of it pulling me down harder the longer I went on. My mind rang out and darkness invaded the sides of my vision. I think I'd breathed in some water.

The pain was going away. I started floating. I felt a little peaceful like I wasn't going to care if I was going to drown. I saw a light, it shimmered and wavered like liquid. Then a dark spot appeared in the centre until it grew. Then I saw nothing. It was actually two days later when I woke up in the hospital. I saw my sister and my cousin talking to each other while sitting in two chairs next to my bed.

My sister's back was to me and Reese was leaning in, speaking in a low-tone voice. I stared at him for a long time before I coughed. Reese looked up. Oh damn, he said. as he caught my eyes. My sister turned to see me and gasped. You're awake, thank God. She got up and awkwardly hugged me while I was in bed.

That's when I realized all my muscles hurt and I could barely move. I'm going to call Mom and Dad, she said as she grabbed his cell phone from a chair and left the hospital room. Reese just kept looking at me. I stared back. What happened? I asked. What do you mean?

said in a stern and cold voice. You went for a swim and you got cramps and then you drowned. I called out for you, the monster. What are you talking about? He cut me off and glared hard at me. I saw you whaling around in the pool and I called the cops.

I don't know, CPR, but I got you out of the water. I started stammering my words, baffled and wondering if I was crazy. I clearly remember the sound and sight of that creature. If you saw me struggling, why didn't you come out earlier? My voice squeaked.

I wanted to grab his shoulders and shake them, desperate for some confirmation that I hadn't hallucinated that fear. I could only lay, accusingly, on the hospital bed. Reese was silent. I could see anger grow on his face like he was holding something back. And I knew. You did see it, didn't you? And you were too scared to come down to help me.

that's why isn't it shut up I saved your ass Reese yelled you just got a cramp and yelled then drowned okay I knew at that point no one would believe me

if I said anything and Reese would have fought me the whole way because he needed me to shut up and he really needed it to not be real I shut up from that point on news of me getting better

to reach the rest of the family that arrived at the condo I missed the reunion as I recovered Nothing out of the ordinary happened While everyone else had stayed there Reese never talked to me again Except through our fathers My dad said in particular

That Reese had convinced my uncle to sell the house in the woods It was already worth more than what he had bought it for And I'm not sure what Reese said to his dad To make him sell it right away But we never went back to those woods again Our next family reunion was booked at a resort by a popular beach full of people. But I never talked to Reese

as he avoided me the entire time. So, it was never brought up again. But I've never forgotten the fear. Not the fear of water, but the fear of what makes you choose to drown yourself instead of facing whatever horrors those would to produce at the night. I don't post online often,

but I've been experiencing something weird, I wanted to hear if anyone else's experienced something similar, or if you have any advice, or maybe I just want someone to listen. I don't know anymore. This entire situation is just out of control. I've turned out all the lights and locked the door, so I don't think anyone knows I'm here.

Maybe the patrolman. It's just me and that mask for now. At the beginning of the 2020 pandemic, I was suddenly dumped by my girlfriend of four years, Sherry. She was going to study at a university abroad And instead of having a conversation with me about it She just decided to end it Hell, I would have moved to Stockholm right along with her

Even if I don't know a word of Swedish But here we are A few weeks prior I had been considering a job opportunity in a nearby town And this breakup was the final straw I took the offer Packed up my things and tried to look forward You know even when my heart was trying to

pull me back. My new apartment wasn't anything amazing, but way better than expected. A bedroom, a bedroom, a surprisingly spacious kitchen and a bathroom with a large tub. I couldn't complain, and the rent was dirt cheap. I got the place recommended through a work colleague who we just moved out of there, and they had nothing but good things to say. Normal neighbourhood, and if I ever needed it, there was also a daycare just across the street. Not that I have any kids yet.

Maybe someday, if I make it through the night. Not with Sherry, though. She had a chance. Sorry, I'm having a hard time concentrating. I keep hearing these noises in the stairwell. They're knocking on all the doors. So, anyway, I moved in the beginning of February 2020. Everything seemed fine.

As a warehouse and logistics manager, I'm constantly putting up fires, but compared to my last job this was a cake walk living alone the paycheck went straight to my pocket I gotta admit I splurged a bit

new TV new furniture fancy new bed this place shaped up real nice real fast maybe that's why I'm having a hard time letting go of it I met the neighbours in passing every now and then

nothing formal but they seem nice the apartment building has four floors with two apartments each, and I'm on the top one. There are a whole bunch of similar buildings around here, at least eight. There's a large elevator that can take me straight up to my door. The walls are modern and mostly soundproofed, so the only time I would hear my neighbours were during their Fourth of July celebration. They were nice enough to put up a notice about it on the board downstairs, though.

All kinds of people live here, but mostly young adults and middle-aged couples. There are two families on the bottom floor that seem to be best friends, having their kids play. Sometimes, even leaving the front doors open for them to run from one apartment to the other. I thought the kids were getting my nerves, but it's nice to see some happy faces when you get home from work. All right, so about the masks. Yeah, I'm getting there. It was the beginning of September 2020. The rain was getting bad, and people were going back down into lockdown after the summer. we were all bracing for a second wave of the virus

one day when I got back from work there was a package outside my door there was a similar package outside my neighbour's door I was curious and walked down a flight of stairs only to see the same kind of package outside every door there as well I figured it was a commercial stunt so I just picked up my package and opened it then and there and there it was

It wasn't just an ordinary, cheap, plastic mask. This thing had a built-in air filter and was made of some kind of rubbery plastic, almost half an inch thick. It could cover my face and half of my scalp. It was large enough that there was a little mechanism that you could hook behind your ears built in, but it was a bit loose.

The thing probably cost upwards of a hundred bucks to make. Probably weighs around two, maybe three pounds. The problem was the... The face. This mask was weird. It had the expression of someone just minusly gazing into nothingness. Mouth half open, slack-jawed, tired eyes.

A piece of white felt behind the eyes, so you can't see what the wearer is looking at. It had a sterile white colour, with a thin black lining around the inner edges of the eyes. Kind of like an eyeliner. There was no note, no explanation, no packing, no cinder, nothing. Someone hand-delivered them. I was about to go inside when my neighbours stepped out of the elevator.

We had a small chat and whisked each other well. Then they noticed the package outside the door. Some kind of gift, the husband asked. Do you know who? No idea, I shrugged, holding up my mask. But they don't look cheap. I wonder if we Yeah, we got two

The masks were slightly different sizes But had the same face and colour as mine We laughed it off Wist each other a good evening And locked our front doors while social distancing I don't know If I should have just tossed the damn thing then Or if I should have held onto it tighter

I didn't even think about that mask for at least a week Until I woke up late one night It was about 3 in the morning and something was going on at the daycare across the street Three police cars All with flashing lights pulled up at the same time They turned off the sirens But I was up and staring at the window in a heartbeat

Two officers entered the building with their guns drawn There was a lot of shouting But it died down fast About ten minutes later an ambulance arrived No sirens just flashing lights. Police tape was put up. The next day, there was a short article in the local paper. There had been a murder. A young man who had lived in the area was on his way home when he was reportedly followed. He called the emergency number and tried to take shelter in the local

daycare, but police didn't get there fast enough. He'd been stabbed to death while the emergency operator was still on the line. They couldn't save a sure if the assailant had been a manner of woman, only that they've been wearing an odd white mask with a peculiar expression. The police were all over the case. They checked with every single neighbor in the area. I was one of the last ones they interviewed, seeing as I lived in the top floor. I told them what little I could, and they seemed ready to let me go. That's when I showed them the mask.

I had hidden it away in a storage closet and hadn't thought about it in a while. Same as the others, they said. Did you see who delivered it? Not a clue, I said. Everyone got one. No weird phone calls, notes, friend requests. Of course, there was nothing. The masks had shown up out of nowhere.

The hunt for the mask murderer was on. It wasn't exactly nationwide news, but we got a fair share of reporters looking into it. Apparently, the victim had a mask of their own. but it was found broken. The police looked into everyone who owned one of those masks, but it was soon made to be clear that the murderer could have been just about anyone in town. There was no way to tell where the masks came from or where they'd been made.

Someone could be handing them out just to throw the police off their trail. In the months leading up to Christmas, I started seeing those masks around town. People started wearing them to protect themselves from the pandemic at first. they're surprisingly comfortable but after a while it became a social thing you could spot a neighbor across the street and wave at them all with a little

sense of anonymity when you wore that mask you were just a curious nobody from the neighbourhood you were one of the crew anonymous yet belonging hell I wore it one time when I went grocery shopping instead of my ordinary face mask I gotta say

the weird white mask was way more comfortable except for the faulty airstrap. That and people seem friendlier. Well, some people. The ones were the masks. Soon, I started seeing the masks at night. People would dress in bulky clothes and meet up with other masks outside,

completely silent. They'd leave each other notes on the board on the bottom floor. A lot of the messages were very open and inappropriate. Things like couples inviting people to their bedrooms or anonymous and hateful messages about people outside the neighbourhood. If the mask killer could get away with murder after all, they could all get away with calling out a loud neighbour, or asking for casual meetups.

But people can normalise everything. We adapted to the pandemic, so we figured we could adapt to this too. The police asked people to stop wearing the masks, and everyone agreed to do so. Then they wore it anyway. There was a much pushback. so I figured at least a few of the officers had masks themselves.

But not everything was sinister. I remember one time when a masked woman took to the streets to play a violin. It was just around the first snowfall and the entire neighbourhood were looking at the windows. Behind every pane of glass was a pale face staring at her. I had my own mask on. It felt weird not to have it. We couldn't call the police or turn anyone in just for the mask. I mean, were we turning in a murderer or a violinist?

Sherry would have hated it. She always hated mannequins, dolls, masks, all that stuff. There was something about faces frozen in time that freaked her out. But things were going downhill, fast. Over the course of a few weeks after Christmas, there were two muggings, one assault and one attempted murder. All assailants were described as wearing masks. I will stop noticing the flashing lights and sirens. I guess we really can adapt to anything.

In early January 2021, the masks stepped up. The messages were getting cryptic. Meetings at midnight. Sometimes there was gunfire or screams. One apartment building had a small fire started in the kitchen. Then they started going door by door in my apartment building. There were usually four of them. them, two couples, early 50s. They don't say anything. They just knock in your door and wait.

They're making sure everyone is still wearing their masks. If you don't open the door wearing your mask, I've got the feeling they'd do something bad. I'm pretty sure they've concealed holsters. They're pretty open about it. Yes, I answer the door every time they knocked. Yes, I wore the mask. No, the strap thing behind the ear still wasn't safe. sitting right. The nightly gatherings became more frequent. Sometimes they'd all go somewhere, and sometimes they'd just disperse. This one time the police came, and everyone just ran back into the buildings. The police went door to door to ask if we still had our masks. Of course, I lied and told them no. No one was arrested. All around town, petty crime was on the rise,

Reagan's, vandalism, car theft. But it was getting a bit more serious. Some masks were seen walking around with handguns and knives. One time there were three masks with Molotov cocktails. It was another attempted murder as well, with a young woman being shot at close range three times. She ended up in a coma. It was also singing, mostly at nights, but sometimes I hear it when I just walk around town. A cashier whistling a certain tune, a ringtone from a phone in the crowd. People all around town started embracing the idea of living double lives.

Hell, sometimes, they don't even try to hide it. No one saw a mask in uniform handing out parking tickets in broad daylight. Fast forward to three nights ago. I've been getting ready to leave town. I've talked my brother about crashing on his couch and I've been packing up the essentials. Then someone knocked on my door. The patrolman I figured, and put on my mask.

But it wasn't the patrolman. Outside my door in the unlit hallway was a skinny man towering above me, tall, elongated. He was wearing a hoodie, a pair of pale blue old jeans, and I can't remember his feet. I don't know if he even had any.

He was wearing one of the masks, but I was flawed by just how tall he was. He would have to crouch to even fit through the doorway. He densed up to move and I stepped back. Maybe he was about to leave, I don't know. I was too surprised. My damn mask came off. The strap behind my left ear finally snapped.

My mask fell off and the tall man stared at my naked face. Then he did something I've never seen before. His mask moved. It went from a mindless open-mouthed face To a joyful one A big grinning smile Cheeks that puffed up White lips revealing a white inner mouth

White tongue, white teeth White throat It wasn't a mask I ran to my bathroom Fumbling from my phone I was just about to slam the door shut When I noticed a long arm holding it open He was reaching over me

completely silent. That big grin came closer as he searched my face. I just held my breath, looking for an opportunity to run. He was so quiet, so quick. He was like watching a twitching bug. I didn't feel his breath. Then he gave me a new mask, held it up to me with two long fingers, like leather chopsticks.

It looked just like my old one, but it was brand new. The straps were reinforced. I took the mask and spat out reflexive. Thank you. And saw the tall man back out of the room, still wearing that big grin. I looked like a caricature of a person backing away from a frightened animal. I felt like a deer in headlights.

It was all so quiet. I slept in my bathtub that night with a locked door. I held the mask close all night. and dreamt of faces coming out of the bathroom tiles. White faces, grinning. Now, I'm not sure things can get worse. That's why I'm not sure if I should still run or not.

The patrolmen are coming tonight. I just know it. But I don't know if it is a good idea for me to answer the door. I don't want to put on the mask again. It feels irreversible. Maybe my old. mask was faulty. Maybe this all affects us in a greater way than just giving us a sense of anonymity. Maybe this tall man is something else. They call him the handsome man on the board downstairs.

Almost every note is about him. They thank him, they bless him. Handsome man, handsome man. Hell, I heard it sung in the stairwell. I have my bags packed, but I'm getting cold feet. I don't know what would happen if I stayed longer. Then again, with a mask like this, I could do amazing things. Right. Looking through the eyes of that mask, I see freedom, unyielding, unadulterated freedom. I don't hate it. Would you?

Just saying, maybe there's a good reason why people adore that thing. Sherry is returning home over the summer. It's just the next town over. Maybe she has something coming. It is a place rarely seen under the light of day. Even with the sun overhead, the world seems to stretch beyond its normal limits as if nothing were close,

as if all momentum's to mankind were distant. Even that gas station you passed a few miles back becomes distant. It is a place where the night sky seems to vibrate around you, And where the air is preternaturally cool and dry, and there is a perpetual hum in the air, barely present but undeniable. If you try to record it, your recording will come back corrupted. Only the unaided ear can hear it, and even then, only by ignoring it. The moment you focus your hearing, it'll scarper off into nothing.

The locals dare not visit. They know enough. There are those who take stock of missing persons report. They know not to put themselves in harm's way. Leave well enough alone is their motto, and they live longer for it. It's only the out-of-towners who seem to get into any trouble. And as a result, you're unlikely to find the place by word of mouth alone.

No one around these parts likes to talk much about that place. Ask around, and the only thing you're liable to hear is, stay away and of course not everyone heeds the words of locals I've seen far too many wander off into the wilderness

in search of that faithful place I've seen many of them come back too some burnt and sleep deprived and badly in need of a shower nothing out there but dirt shrubs and more dirt they say and shake the dusty heads there's always a faint disappointment in their faces

they'd hoped to have something confirmed, some belief in the paranormal corroborated by the sky itself. Finding nothing, they lose a little hope in the world. To them, life has gotten a little less strange, a little more stable, conforming more and more to the world their pastors and parents first mapped out. They lose faith in the weird, the strange, the ability for life to surprise them still. These are the lucky ones. For what they lose in imagination They gain in good solid years left upon the earth

The others Well now I suppose no one really knows what happens to the others They wander out just as far as their tired legs can take them Beneath the blazing sun The quiet moon into the distance Further and further and further And then

Thinking about it brings back the old hurts I've lost too much not to hate that place. Once I watched an entire team of young people drive their van out in hopes of finding the boundary. I happened to be sitting on my porch as they went, enjoying a smoke. My house is fairly isolated, but it's along the way

and I'm friendlier than most locals. It's not uncommon for visitors to stop and ask a few questions before heading back out. These travellers in particular didn't quite know how to tell me at first. just where it is they were headed. But I knew already. I always know.

A young gang of adventures like them. Well, I've seen their tight pastura a fair few times. Two young guys and three girls. Couldn't have been much more than 20 years old, any of them. Finally, it came out that they were hunting the boundary, the place beyond the hills. Only they might have had some misguided thoughts about what they'd find when they got there.

I hear it's a UFO hotspot, one of the young ladies said, crossing her tattooed arms. She looked to be their de facto leader. The others nodded vigorously in agreement. We're going to camp out all week, see what we can see. More if we have to, one of the others jumped in. We're not leaving until we get that footage. We've got supplies for a week, the first woman explained. She ran her hand through a close-cropped hair.

It was dyed bright red. the sort of thing I might have done once if I'd grown up in this day and age. She flicked loose sweat off her fingertips. We're hoping we won't have to wait that long though. You might not have to wait long at all, I thought. But all I said was, lots of young people like you have gone missing out there. That wouldn't be enough to deter them, it seemed.

I should have known better. It never works. I took a long, hard look at their van. It seems sturdy, and he was running well enough for a vehicle out this far. If it was as stocked as they said, I had no doubt they'd manage a week in the desert heat. But even the best vehicle in the world won't help out in the kind of situation these poor fools were getting themselves into. Yeah, well, we're hoping to find out exactly why so many people have gone missing. Someone's got to document it, right?

I hear there's a mother ship out there, one of the young guys called out, hiding in plain sight. I shook my head. If I didn't try one more time to stop them, and something happened, I'd have that on my conscience. This was way back, before I stopped trying to turn people away, back when I thought I could still make a difference.

I don't know about UFOs or motherships, I explained, but about ten miles down that way there's a gas station, sells hot dogs, charcoal, lighter fluid, beer too. Don't have much of a selection, but they keep it cold, which is what you'll want. Ice isn't a freezer too, if you've got a cooler to carry it.

Nothing like a dog and some ice-cold beers. Yeah, yeah, we've already got food, drinks too. Either they weren't listening, or I wasn't trying hard enough, but I wasn't finished. About five miles past the gas station, there's a stand of cactus. Big old things, can't miss them.

Hang a ride and drive till you reach the dry arroyo. No need to worry about flash floods. we haven't had a drop of rain in months is a great spot to camp undisturbed, quiet prettiest view of the stars you'll ever see and far as I know not a single soul's gone missing

who's pitched out there it was the truth I've camped out there myself it's a touch too close to the boundary for my comfort but I already live too close to that place to rest totally easy listen the woman said

we just want to make sure we're headed to the red direction can you tell us if this is the road we want? Nothing I could say would convince them. I'd seen it all before. Oh, it's the right road all right. Not paved all the way to the spot you're looking for, though. This old beast can handle it, she said, slapping the side of the van.

She flashed the wink and hopped back in along with her friends. See you on the way back? Do a credit. I did see her on the way back. Only her. She drove like a madman, sent plumes of dust, curling skyward behind her as she weaved off and on the main road. I had been sitting out front that night, as is my want, enjoying another smoke. When I saw her, small on the horizon at first, but ever larger as she sped down the road,

I watched that van come spinning towards me at an inadvisable speed, before bouncing in a shallow ditch and coming to an abrupt stop. good thing too another few feet and I'd have lost my mailbox or perhaps the porch altogether The band door flew open And she stumbled out

openly weeping Before crumpling into my arms A few minutes later I had her cleaned up on my couch A warm blanket drawn about her shoulders And a hot mug of coffee in her hands Take it from me A blanket and some hot coffee

Can Work miracles She still shivered and sniffled but physically she was all right. It was in her mind that she was all shook up, in a soul. I gave a space to decompress. Sometimes people just need to be near someone, especially after they've suffered a shock. In time, she'd open up, or not, that was really up to her.

My job was to make her comfortable and help her get the van started back up when she decided it was time to go. She sat there uncomfortably, not touching a mug, staring at nothing. A minute or two passed, the stars through the window whirling slowly. You were right,

she finally said. Of course I was right, I thought. Only she didn't need to hear that right now. I arched an eyebrow at her and took a sip of my coffee. As if I'd broken a spell, that seemed to give her permission to drink her own. She took a long pull before continuing.

We never should have gone out there, she admitted. People don't mean much encouragement to share what's on their mind. Sometimes it's better to say less. This time, I just said, Oh? Sure enough, that did the trick. It all came spilling out, maybe too fast. I couldn't slow it.

down after that. They just disappeared. All of them. I don't have a clue what happened. We didn't see any UFOs or anything either. That was all BS, I guess. Just one second they were there, and the next, gone. There was a flash of light, but...

What happened? It can't be possible, can it? I mean, people don't just vanish. They can't just vanish. Oh, God, oh, what have I gotten myself into? They have to be somewhere, don't they? I thought hard before I answered that one. Hard enough that I had time to shake a free smoke, light it, and offer one to a two.

She shook ahead. I don't smoke. Fair enough, I countered. Then took a deep drag while I considered how best to answer. Having this conversation would require a fair amount of delicacy on my part. Best to get to know her first. Hell, is there any place else to start? What's your name?

I asked. Amber. Well, it's actually Emily. She met my eyes once, then looked away. But my friends call me Amber. You can too. Amber, huh? It's an inside joke, she spoke very quietly.

I can only imagine. Thinking about her friends and the group dynamic at a time like this would have to be very difficult. Then she looked up and said, What's yours? I considered that a moment too. It's not too often people ask my name anymore, and even less often I give it out. Call me Ursa, I said.

Ussa, is that your real name? I ignored that. It's nice to meet you, too, Ember. Fair enough. Ember echoed my earlier sentiment, then hesitated. Um, I changed. my mind about the cigarette. A few months later she was taking a deep drawer of her own, leaning back in the chair. Immediately she seemed more at ease than before, but I could tell

that was just posturing. Behind her eyes, her mind was working a mile a minute, and I could guess her heart was just about there too. In the calm light of my home, we looked an odd pair of pals, I, far older than she, and tall and wide, and she was a slip of a young woman, short and willow thin. We were bound by a shared knowledge of the deep, distant place beyond the hills, our first-hand experience of its weird terror, and by the smouldering glow of our smokes. We shared her further communion. Please, Emma said finally, tell me that I'm... I'm going crazy or something. they can't just be gone

but you must know something that can help Ember I'm going to level with you your friends are gone it's tough but you'd be wise to accept it and to move on I took a drag of my cigarette and watched her

her expression was downcast for she already knew it was true fresh tears spilled down her cheeks and she choked a sob I pitted her she was a strong stupid girl to have gone up there in the first place, but then I'd been stupid once too.

I sighed and bent to take the mug from her hands. She was shaking now, and I'd rather not lose that mug. Someone close gave it to me long ago. There has to be something we can do. Please, you have to help me, I pressed on. There was only one thing for her to do, and I wasn't going to pretend otherwise, no matter how much I had to play the villain. I was firm and stuck to what I'd said.

Maybe think of a story to cover your ass while you're at it. I continued. Folks around here won't ask too many questions, but if you get back home with four of your friends missing, she broke down completely, sobbing helplessly into her hands. The cigarette between her fingers was burning unnoticed, and I took it from her, set it down in the ashtray.

Nothing you can do when someone's like that, but wait. Let him cry it out. And that's exactly what I did. I knelt beside her and laid a hand on her knee while she cried. When at last she composed herself, we had some more coffee and shared another smoke. Then she said to asking her new questions, I should have known she wasn't going to take the easy way out of this. Not everyone's smart enough to take advice, even if it'll save their life.

She pressed on with her inquiry. You warned us, she said. Simple enough statement. Not a question either. But I knew it was leading into one. You knew something would happen. You must have some clue what goes on out there. I might, I acceded at last.

This one wasn't going to rest until she had a few answers. And anyway, I thought answers might be the best way to convince her to stay away. not to go back. Frankly, she was dumbly lucky to have made it back the first time. Tell me, I need to know, tell me. Tell you what? What happened? What is that place?

That place? I didn't know how best to phrase it. I had a story of my own, and though I avoided telling it to others, it might be the only way I could save her. If only, I hadn't. seen so much of myself in her, I could have avoided getting attached, would have made what happened next hurtless. Well, no one really knows what that place is. Some say it is UFOs,

say that the aliens swoop in and take people away. Of course, I don't go in for that eating nonsense. Other people say it's a vanishing point, the end of the earth, too many steps in the wrong direction and... But you don't think that's true either? I shook my head. Then, what is it? It's a gateway, I replied and looked away. And you don't want to go through it, believe me. I remembered it all too well, more than I wanted to let on. But I didn't hold back.

Not this time, not if I could stop her. I told her how I had gone through once with a friend. Natalie was a name. She had been more than a friend, I suppose. but it didn't do any good to dwell on that. I'd learned to live with my loss years ago and those wounds still hurt. We were both too young and too stupid

to consider the consequences of meddling with things we didn't understand or to consider that any of it might be real. But when we got out there that night, we realized there could be truth to the rumours of odd old places in the world. We could both hear that faint humming, abysistent buzzed in our ears,

and the cold plucking sensation on our skin. The air around us might have been alive and the stars overhead might have been watching. We had a million chances to turn back. But we followed that cold air, that low whine until the sensations grew stronger and stronger. And we knew this was the place. And then we stepped through it.

The shift was instantaneous. a flash of light. We didn't even have time to blink. It was a dark place with a floor of stone visible only by a lowered green glow that had no source. Shadows loomed and flickered like beasts. Overhead, the roof had crumbled away and through the open ceiling I saw unrecognizable constellations.

A huge moon terribly close and a slew of smaller moons in the distance. I knew that we had made a terrible mistake, but only I was able to react. quickly enough. I turned and saw a shimmering light and knew without knowing that it must have been the gate through which we'd

stepped. I did not hesitate. I did not grab Natalie's hand and pull her through with me. I acted only to save myself, which I have since come to regret. Although I do not know if I could have saved her. I know how hard

it is to live with myself for never trying. I tumble back into the desert. it in the place beyond the hills. The humming had gone. The air was still. The stars overhead had lost that alien luster. Before I could climb to my feet,

I heard a terrible scream ring across the landscape. It bounced through the hills and echoed against the sky. And etched itself into my heart. Forever. When I'd finished my story, I saw that it had the opposite effect on her. Ember's eyes were twinkling and a jaw was set, resolute. So you're saying it's possible to come back.

This was not at all what I'd intended. I'm saying they're already gone, Ember, they're gone, don't play games with this. It wasn't going to be enough to stop her. I should have known. I hadn't been able to stop her from going once, and I wouldn't be able to stop her from going back. What she said next caught me by surprise, though. Come with me, she said. Help me through.

We can bring them back. Together. I'm sorry, Amber, but that's never going to happen. We can find Natalie too. She's still in there. We can save her, sir. I closed my eyes. Saying Natalie's name had been difficult enough,

but hearing someone else use that sacred word, it was too much. That scream was still ringing. in my ears all these years later. I'll tell you one more time, you'd do best to forget any of this ever happened. With luck, you might go on to live a good life. It won't be the same, never can,

not after seeing your friends vanish through that gate. But you can go back to something resembling normal, and the only way that'll ever happen is if you turn around now and drive back. Don't ever come back. She didn't answer that. But she did ask for some help getting the first. van back on the road and started up again. I was able to do that much for her before putting her in the driver's seat and sending her off. Then I tried again. I had to. You remember what I said?

Turn around, drive away and don't come back. She just shook my hand through the window, said, thanks for the hospitality, Ursa. And she drove off. I was feeling damn sorry for her that night Worse I was feeling damn sorry for myself I talked to Natalie for a long time under the stars Maybe Amber was right Maybe she was still out there somewhere But I couldn't shake that screaming in my ears

In the morning I took my own car down the road Past the gas station past the stand of cactus And off further to a distant place past Pacio de Lucas and Faraday's crossing to a place beyond the hills where the air was alive and the sky seemed to shimmer even under the hot hot sun there was a van parked alone baking in the heat I walked up to it but already feared the worst

sure enough it was empty since then I tried to avoid talking to strangers altogether. They don't know what they're getting into, but the kind word of a local is never enough to stop them, no matter how much first our knowledge is shared. I've seen plenty come and go, and most often they do come back, disappointed, as I said, but never knowing just how close they came to losing everything. There are places in the world that are gateways. I don't know where they lead, but it isn't any place fit for humanity.

One such place is in the desert, not too terribly far away from yourself, and if you go hunting, out there beneath the open sky, you might just find where reality begins to open. That opening, it's mighty thin. Even those looking for it rarely get there, but you do best to steer clear and hope that This reality holds you tight. We live a slippery existence, and other realms entire will swallow you whole without a second thought. Take it from me. I've seen it and lived to tell the tale.

But you might not get so lucky. Birds are smart. A lot of people don't give them credit for that. When we call someone bird-brained, for instance, it isn't usually a compliment. Some people are surprised when they see Aesop's classic fable The Crow and the Picture come to life They might see it in an everyday YouTube video When a rook and its beak places stones in a container of water

To raise the water level so that it can drink It was never taught this trick by any human Then there's the Eurasian magpie that can recognise itself in a mirror Passing the mirror test of intelligence To my knowledge only some mammals have been able to pass the mirror test only some mammals and the Eurasian magpie There are other examples And we could probably include mimicry of voice or sound

As with the parrot But he should suffice I first heard it about a week ago Only about three weeks after I'd moved in It was dusk I was out on the porch Thinking about my new job But really thinking about how I'd have to leave Audrey

And the boy so suddenly We had a house in Nashville, but I'd lost my job at a plant up there because of the pandemic. The bills didn't stop when the work stopped. So, first opportunity I had, I jumped on this opening at a chemical plant in this small town in northeast Alabama. I sat out on the porch with my workboots still on, heavy feet propped up on the little metal table.

I was renting this cabin for next to nothing out near the woods, a nicer cabin than I deserved, not far from the chemical plant. If things went well with a new chemical plant job, we'd sell the house and move down here. Get another house from an apartment or something. To be honest, I was tired of the big city anyway. The way this bird was singing, his voice all husky, but ending on high-trolling notes. It was like it couldn't decide whether it wanted to be a crow or a robin. It would start lower and sort of end on a higher register.

Then there were some other notes. I didn't know if they belonged to that same bird or something else. I guessed it was a mockingbird type. Just going through the list of notes he'd collected. Sort of got under my skin though, because it was singing to me. I could tell he was facing me from the sound. Had to be staring at me. And, as my eyes focused, I could in fact see it on the branch of an oak tree.

It was large, blank, more crowing appearance than Robin. This song's for you, it seemed to say. I'm not worth the trouble, I said in the general direction. Save it for your bird friends. I kicked the dirt off my boots and went inside. But I heard it all through the night. It would stop for a while. Then it would be back.

So I turned on the TV, put on the office, which is Audrey's favorite show, and cranked up the volume as I finally drifted off to sleep. It was that way for the first. next night, only the bird seemed more insistent. My body was as limp as the scarecrow's, knocked over with half its stuffing pulled out, but I was cognizant enough on the couch to know that at some point that bird had gotten on the back porch.

Then it had to be in the back window, serenading me with its harsh, multifaceted tune. Only the glass was keeping it from getting inside. I imagined it would pick right through the window screen. when the characters on the office or whatever else I tried watch and got quiet I swear that bird would be raising its volume and it had a new sound it could make it was like it wanted me to hear them all out some of them were like a rat or another rodent screech

maybe it was killing something out there I told Mick about it the next morning on my way to work Mick is the proprietor of the nearby corner store and gas station Seems like the spur has it out for you, Mick said. I don't know of anything you could buy off me, other than one of them sprays. If we got one lying around. But them sprays don't work. There's always a good old-fashioned gun, which we don't carry.

At least not above the counter. He left. You got a gun? I don't want to kill it, I said. You wouldn't need to kill it, Mick said. It probably won't be back anyway, I said. Mick grinned. His big cheek stimpling.

Told myself the same about a woodpecker of mine, until it turned into an everyday occurrence. It had come along and bang at the side of my house, like there weren't any trees with sweeter grub. Sounded like a construction crew going to work in my house. Sprays and aluminium foil wouldn't phase that woodpecker. So then I moved onto a gun. But I didn't have to kill it.

Just scared it. Maybe he clipped its wings a little. You could, uh, borrow one of my guns if you want. Nah, I said. It's okay. It was only a couple of nights after all. You gotta be careful out there at the chemical plant, Mick said as he rang with my beef jerky in sports drink. He sighed as if it was coming from personal experience. Can't afford to go on too little sleep. Might be a small town, but that plant is massive.

It's a big plant all right, I said. And it was. There's that joke expression. so big it has its own zip code but I honestly think that the chemical plant did it was laid out on the kind of land you measured in miles instead of acres roads went through building complex after building complex

probably had more parking lots than some amusement parks and universities most of the buildings were blocky rectangular resembling shipping containers on a massive scale gaudy orange bands over grey and black a culture of vending machines caution signs chemical diamonds and bulky suited heart-hatted PPE pulsing hoses, coils

that ended up god knows where and the throwing machinery that beat like the flow of blood through a body people constantly shouting to be heard over that and the earplugs behemoth doorways I'd worked for a while at a chemical plant in Nashville a much larger city

but this plant could eat the other and barely notice it And because it was surrounded by woods, you could never really get an idea of its limit. You just went down a wooded road for a while, and then you were there, like some giant had chewed up the heart of the forest and spit out concrete and metal in its place. Concrete and metal and the bile of chemical production. A large part of my day was spent navigating the place. The other part was spent working under the chemical operator,

going over safety protocols with videos and tests. monitoring gauges, evaluating the machinery that process chemicals for plastics, building materials, personal care products, and a slew of other things, helping to load and unload uncooked supplies and waste, and writing down reports and logbook-related stuff. Occasionally, I would climb a ladder and peer into a tank of some highly acidic or otherwise deadly substance and contemplate my own mortality. I was supposed to be taken down notes, but I'd be caught up in the awe of something that could painfully take the life of any living creature that happened to fall into it.

The PPE seemed like it would just prolong the dying part, stretch out the pain. Audrey had been telling me that working in a chemical plant day in and day out wasn't safe, wasn't good for my lungs or the rest of my body, but the pay was good. I never graduated from high school, spent some time in jail when I was 18 too, for petty theft. So for someone who has narrowed their options because of poor circumstances, and yes, poor choices in the past, I think I'm doing pretty darn well. I don't bring that up with Audrey when she tries to get me to change occupations though,

even though she knows all about it. She is a high school science teacher, by the way, dealing with crowds of teenagers day in and day out and doing all that extra stuff the administrators expect you to do for free comes with its own occupational hazards. They really don't pay teachers as much as they're doing. should. But between the two of us, we've had enough for our three boys, the oldest which is 11, to live pretty comfortably while we set aside a little for their college. We don't want

that to change because the world changed. So, when I thought about this bird getting in the way of my sleep, I started to get angry. I've got a love for all creatures of this planet. As a kid, I used to try to keep pets until my stepfather started to get a hold of them. Sometimes I I think I'd have worked with animals in another life, maybe gone to college to be a zoologist. If things are gone differently, you know. But this bird was messing with my sleep. Sleep was important for work at the chemical plant, like Mick had reminded me, and work was important for my family. Something had to be done.

I don't know why, but it wasn't until the third day of the bird's visitations that I told Audrey about it when I called her after work. I was out on the porch and dusk was on its way But the word was already getting warmed up It was going through a succession of notes tentatively Like a band tuning itself up I say banned Because it had so many sounds it could make Yeah, I can hear it

Audrey said over the phone I ran a caffeine in fatigue shaking hand through my hair I don't want to do anything drastic I said She laughed I don't think you'd be able to, she said. You're always sitting cockroaches and spiders outside. I don't have the heart to step on them, I said.

So, what do you think? Do I call animal control for this? Have you checked to see whether there's a nest? No, and why didn't I think of that? So what? This might be a motherbird protecting a nearby nest or something? Could be, and maybe it feels you're a threat to its young. Okay, I said.

so what do I do if there's a nest with eggs in it? I've heard that moving a nest is a bad idea. The mother might not come back to a young. You wait, she said. I hoft. Once they hatch, she said, and get big enough to leave the nest, it shouldn't be a problem anymore.

Well, how long's that going to take? I don't know. Depends on the species of bird. Could be days, could be weeks. I hoft again. While you're waiting, Mr. Impatient. she said. You should try to learn a little more about it.

Find out if there's a nest, where it is, or what species the bird is. Mr. Impatient, I said. You don't know what it's like with this bird drilling holes in your ear drums all through the night. Um, hello? Ear plugs? Noise cancelling headphones?

You use those at work, right? Fair enough, I said. But if I can't find a nest, I might have to start calling around for other options. Maybe there's some animal conservationist types that can help me relocate the bird safely or something. I didn't at the time know about wildlife removal. We talked about other things,

how the kids were doing, how our respective jobs were. You know, the kind of things married with children people talk about. And when we hung up, I stayed out on the porch. It was full night by this time. The bird was really getting into it. Now it would make the squealing and barking it sounded like it belonged to a squirrel. The only reason I knew it came from that bird and not a squirrel

was because the noises it was making would transition while keeping the same volume and direction. I've heard that mimicking birds can replicate everything from other birds to construction equipment, so its reproducing of squirrel sounds didn't seem too far-fetched. Come daylight, I said, I'm going to get a better idea of what kind of bird you are

and what you're doing here. I was feeling much better because I talked to my wife about it, and because tomorrow was Saturday and I had the weekends off. That meant I could sleep during the day if I had to. But then the frogs got going and the insects. The noises intermingled, sounding symphonic, orchestrated, controlled. The frogs began to sound like brass instruments. They continued up, increasing their tempo and pitch to match the bird song,

up and up to a frenzy. I felt light-headed. I sat down and tapped the desk table with my fingernails to try break the harmony. I wouldn't call it a harmony though. Not exactly. Because it seemed to be mocking the collections of noises we ordinary call harmonies. I wouldn't call it disharmony either, because there was simply too much order to it.

Has to be a coincidence, I thought. Just a human mind trying to impose order that isn't there. A few minutes passed, or half an hour, I'm not really sure, before the frogs and insects began to die down. But that bird was leading. It played me a dozen of our own notes, harsh, yet fading and doleful, that dwindled the way and made me somehow more concerned about the silence to come. It ended. A shiver ripped up through my inner spine to rest over the back of my neck. When I started to go inside, I saw something sticking against the frame of the door.

doorway, just above and to the left of the door handle. It was dark and glistening, a big fat cockroach. But when I moved to open the door, it sprang towards me with more rains than I expected. Its flesh, wet and yielding, touched the flesh of my forearm. It was a frog. Now, on the ground by my tennis shoes, it hopped on towards the woods beyond the deck. Had this been happening every night, I wondered, since that bird had come. Coincidence, I reminded myself.

I went inside, got some food cooking, put on the TV, and then the bird started up again. I heard some frogs too, but thankfully couldn't hear them nearly as well as the bird once inside. After dinner, it was earplugs and browsing the internet until I passed out in my chair and somehow ended up in bed. The next day, I breakfast and got out into the backyard about 7 a.m., intent on finding a nest. I began my search of the trees nearest the back porch. Didn't take long before spotting it, partly because of the flies buzzing around it.

About 15 foot in a tall oak tree was what looked like a nest. But it was upright, not horizontal, and it was wet and clogged up with some weird stuff. I knew there was a 10-foot ladder in the adjacent shed So I went over and got it I put the ladder under that tree And it was a wonder that what I found when I got closer Didn't make you lose my breakfast I couldn't tell if there were any leaves or twigs

The usual kinds of materials were making a nest But there were bones jutting out of meat There were patches of fur There was a frog's eye There were limbs and thoraxes of crickets and cicadas. Strings of ligament and intestine wrapped around and ran through the meat and bone. Blood and other fluids oozed and dripped down the leaves to the bottom of the tree. A nasty little detail I hadn't noticed before.

I almost fell off the ladder. It was woven together like a basket, like a nest. But it was wedged into the branches of the trees vertically instead of horizontally, facing me as if it might give birth into my open arms. There were no eggs, they would have fallen out. When the nest moved, I got down a few rungs on the ladder, sure I would fall. Just the wind, I thought. It was a windy day.

I stayed up there for a couple more minutes, waiting for a sign of the nest's creator. A couple more minutes was enough. I leapt down the ladder, put it up in the shed, went inside the cabin and locked the door. I searched for the number of the local animal control online and left a message on the machine. To my surprise, even though it was a Saturday, they called me back that afternoon.

What you want, the guy on the line said, is wildlife removal. We usually handle domestic animals, but I could give you a number for wildlife removal. Okay, sorry about that, I didn't know. But wildlife removal is going to be closed on Saturday. he said and what you said was in that nest I gotta see it for myself I've heard of some birds put in bottle caps and other stuff in their nests

but nothing like that yeah I said something must be wrong with this bird like I said in that message I left I'm worried about it getting a hold of the neighbours pets there were no nearby neighbours much less pets but I was worried about it attacking me

and didn't want to admit as much might be a hawk or something he said or an owl if he's active at night like you say. I don't think those birds can imitate the sounds of other animals. I was thinking more along the lines of a crow or a raven. Look, he said, I've got some time this evening, so I'll head out myself and take a look. Um, all right, if whatever made that,

that nest is the same as the bird that's been making all that racket, it should be most active then. But the animal control worker called back later and said it wouldn't be until Monday. I thought I should just go ahead and call wildlife removal, but decided I'd let him come out and take a look first and call wildlife removal later if I had to. He seemed adamant about seeing it for himself.

The next two days were hard. I didn't tell Audrey about the details of the nest, just that there was a nest, and I felt really bad about that. I'm not exactly sure why I left the details out. She doesn't get queasy. not usually. I guess I'd rather some random person from animal control think I'm crazy than my wife.

I planned on filling her in on all the details once the nest and the bird that had made it were removed from the property. I powered through Saturday and Sunday night with earplugs in. I didn't step foot outside. I never thought I'd be looking forward to Monday morning as I was. I got a call Monday during work, around 11 a.m. that the animal control worker was ready to head out to the cabin I was renting. I'd like to poke around in that nest, was one of the things he said. I didn't know if that was the best way to handle things,

but when I suggested over the phone, maybe I should just go ahead and call wildlife removal like I was supposed to. He cut me off and asked for the cabin's address. I got home a little earlier than usual at about 4.30. A white pickup truck was parked out in the driveway. It had animal control and the countess name on its side. Guess they couldn't get here until later, I grumbled. I called out as I went around the cabin to the back porch.

I saw that cabin maybe three or four times. Then I heard something high and looked up where I was reluctant to look. The nest had gotten much bigger. Larger bones had been added in for support, holding up larger pieces of meat, thicker in trails than before snaked around. I saw some patches of clothing in among the fur and the other stuff that wasn't as wet. There was a knocked-over ladder,

the same ladder I'd used yesterday that lay beneath the nest on the ground. It was covered in blood. I put my hands on my knees and threw up. Standing up, I wiped my mouth of the back of my hand, appeared at the nest again, and could see that yes, it was moving. Coils in the nest jiggled as if fluids were coursing through them.

Even though it was made of meat and bones, not metal and wire, I'd seen enough machines at work. I knew a machine when I saw one. I'd read somewhere that electrical currents on our bodies, as well as, I assumed, in those of other animals, are conducted across cells, and that such electrical currents are important for the functional parts of our bodies like the heart and the brain.

I wasn't sure how well the parts of living things could conduct electricity, especially once taken out. I didn't think it could be as well as inorganic machines could do, but this bird had clearly made some alterations. Maybe the machine had to use such parts, or maybe its creator wanted it that way. I don't know. What I do know is that meaty parts were moving and pumping,

and the surrounding air felt as if it was charged, even from below. The nest clicked and throbbed. Something was happening. Repurposed bones and tendons stretched. There was a ripping noise and a large wet ball slipped out, fell down and hit a few branches before cracking upon the ground. An egg.

A large thing inside was coming out fast. It squawked, clawing away pieces of shell with fingers that had talons on them. A substance that was somewhere between yolk and a mammal's after-birth fluid oozed out. By the time the creature had flung aside the other thick pieces of a shell, which seemed oddly skin-like. I could see that the lower half of his face was wide like a frogs, and its eyes were both frog-like and insectoid. Feathered, balding wings hung from his back. The bold spot suggested the chitinous wings of a cricket or a cicada. Feather and fur competed for spots along its live but powerful-looking body.

A hairy tail that was also balding revealed patches of heart, kite in as exoskeleton, whipped the air behind it. The creature stood about my height, looking straight into my eyes with its own that, in spite of their frog and insect-like position, it sniffed at me with a human nose that jiggled when the beak below opened to squawk at me again. After the squawk, it said in the same voice

that had been on the phone earlier, the animal control worker's voice, "'Good Lord, never seen anything like it. "'Let me put a catch-pole inside, "'usely for dogs and whatnot, "'but this is a good enough application.' "'By the time it's beat closed, "'I was screaming.

"'It darted towards me, "'its wings flickered on its back. "'I couldn't move out of his way quick enough, "'but it slipped. "'It's long, strangely segmented hind legs "'arging into the air, "'its own after-birth trailing. "'It must have seen.

slipped in the stuff it was born from, or reborn from. There were no eggs of offspring. Instead, from what I could tell, there was this nest-like machine that went, somewhere. And there was this bird thing that rolled out, repeatedly, to Hatchanoo, to be reborn with new features. As it scrambled to get back up, still rolling around in the viscous fluid that had been inside its egg, I sprinted off towards my truck, keys already in hand. It screamed after me in a human voice.

I couldn't tell if it was mimicking my own or that of the animal control worker that had come out to the cabin. I got on the road, found the interstate, and didn't stop driving, barring getting gas and heaving my guts out of the restroom until I was parked in front of my house in Nashville three hours later. The porch light came on and Audrey opened the door. I could see two of our boys peeking out on the other side of her. Why didn't you call?

She said. I wanted to surprise you. My voice broke like an old toy. Got some time off work, I lied. Oh, already? She said. Hopefully Mr. Impatient doesn't get in trouble with the boss. I embraced Audrey and the kids, feeling their strength of life flow through me.

I tried to make what happened earlier go away by not thinking about it. But, like that bird thing, coming out of the egg fully formed, its reality clawed away the pieces of my resolve. There was an image I kept coming back to that I recalled at some point on the road. It was from when I first started working at the chemical plant in Alabama. I'd been touring the outside of the facility alone on lunch break, and I'd seen some birds drinking from a puddle of rainbow-colored water. After the boys had gone to bed,

and while Audrey was finishing up a prep work for a next day's science classes, I went upstairs and passed out. I woke up about one in the morning. Glancing over, I noticed my wife sleeping beside me. I started to go back to sleep, but a harsh, scratching bird's core, almost like the clearing of a human's throat, woke me up again.

It had come from just beneath our bedroom window. So, first off, let me say that there is, are two things in life that I am completely crazy about, cats and creepypasters. My friends like to call me the creepy cat lady. It's kind of funny because I've never owned a cat due to my mother's cat allergies, but that didn't stop me from developing an obsession with all things feline. Every year since I was allowed to pick out my own costumes, I've been some sort of cat for Halloween.

And ever since I discovered the world of creepybusters, those costumes have gotten ever darker in nature. It's a fun combination, really. Or, at least it was, until my obsession clashed in my own real-life horror show. It all started when my friend, Ron, told me that his family was going to be out of town for a week during the summer, and they needed someone to house it. Okay, full disclosure here. I have been secretly crushing a run since he started growing a beard about a year ago. He'd already had a nice body from years of playing lacrosse, but there were plenty of nice bodies to be seen at.

school. Like, so what? But that beard. So dark and silky under his sensitive green eyes. I kept wondering what he would feel like he would press his lips against mine. Not like I was ever likely to find out. The girl's egos for are popular, not weird like me. Still, the thought of gaining access to his most intimate space with nowhere round made me volunteer for the job before he had even explained the entire situation. Well, you sure are eager. Run said, before biting into his store-bought burrito. I never understood how he could eat those things, especially right before we were about to go grab some burgers with our other friends.

Don't even get me started on how much I wished I could have his metabolism for a day. I'm not fat by any means, but I do have to watch my calories if I don't want to be a chubby kitty. Yeah, well, who wouldn't want a whole house to themselves for a week? I said, I mean, it's different for you because you're about to go off to college anyway. but I've got another year before I have my own space. A week without my stupid brothers under me, sounds like heaven on earth. Good point, he said, wiping his mouth clean with a napkin.

All right, just check to make sure it's all right with you folks, and I'll let my mom know she can take down the ad in the paper. In the paper, I laughed. Don't you guys have access to the internet? Well, you know old people, he shrugged. We still hide the spare key under a rock near a front door too. He rolled his eyes and popped the last bite of his burrito into his mouth. Anyway, the job should be easy.

You know, water the plants, feed the aquarium fish, stuff like that. You can invite some of our friends over, but just make sure you leave no traces for my parents to find. Be noise enough for the place not to seem abandoned, but quiet enough not to upset the neighbours. I'll text you the Wi-Fi password, and any other details you'll need. Oh, and the pool will be up and running by then. So, feel free to take a dip or whatever. Sound cool? Hell yeah, I said enthusiastically.

Sounds like my own little dream vacation. Make sure to tell your parents that I've babysat for most of my neighbourhood in case they need references. The sound of approaching laughter drew my attention to two of our friends heading over towards us. Well, looks like the detention twins

have finally arrived, I joked. I was admittedly reluctant to end my one-on-one time with Ron, but my stomach was totally ready for us to hit the burger joint. As I walked with my friends and listened to their excited chatter about the day, my mind did the waltz with heated dreams of a week spent in the place that were uncalled home. The next few months went by fairly quickly, what, with so many activities going on at the end of school year.

I attended my junior prom with a group of girls that didn't want to be attached to date, and we had a blast. I attended senior prom with my friend Jason, who has had a crush on me like forever? I guess I'd been so busy obsessing her for Ron that I missed Jason leaving his awkward stage behind With his braces gone And his blonde hair slicked back of his now clear forehead I finally noticed how nice his blue eyes were And how his dimples made his smile almost irresistible

Naturally by the time it came for me to house it for Ron's family I wasn't exactly excited about the job anymore Still I'd volunteered and they were going to pay me $200 for it So I stuck to the original plan and headed over to the Rosewood section of town. Now, New Brisbane is a very nice town no matter where you live. There is no such thing as the wrong side of the tracks here. I mean, the area around Bainbridge Asylum can be pretty shady at times,

but otherwise, New Brisbane is just an ideal place to live all round. But Rosewood is where all the hotshots in town live. You know, politicians, multi-businessmen and whatnot. Ron's father made his fortune through ownership of a very successful fleet of car dealerships around the state. Their house was large but tasteful and had a look of sophistication that made me self-consciously remove the cat ears

from the top of my head as I approached the property. Not that it felt out of place there. But yeah, I kind of did. As expected, I found the spare key to the house under a rock near the front door. Unexpectedly, when I opened the door, I was greeted by a cat.

It was a beautiful, red-colored summer. marly cat with orange eyes, large ears, and a well-groom bushy tail. It sat in front of the door, regal in its stature, expectation in its eyes as it stared at me. Any thoughts about not wanting to do this job immediately left my brain as I found a brand new reason to want to be there. I squealed in delight, barely remembering to close the door behind me as I rushed to get the cat. I cooed at the kitty as I dropped the bags I'd brought with me and reached. start to touch that glorious red fur. The cat slinged just out of reach of my hand and walked slowly away from me,

coyly looking over his shoulder at me as he did so. Ah, come here, kitty kitty, I called as I tried to catch hold of him. I just wanted to hold him and pet him and rub my face into his fur so badly. I called to be short when I heard a loud noise just above my head, kind of like a thump, like what you might hear if someone fell out of bed on the floor above you. I stood, nervously chewing on my lip for a moment, trying to remember if Ron had said anyone would be visiting, or if he had mentioned having any large pets. Actually, the only pets he mentioned were having some fish and an iguana.

I knew iguanas could grow pretty big, so it was impossible that the noise had come from the reptile. I stood for a moment longer, wondering if I should go have a look. Hello? I called out. rather stupidly now that I think about it. The only response I got was in imploring me out from the cat I had been following. My tension drawn back to the cat, I shrugged and tried again to reach for it, only for it to dance just be on my reach once again.

It moved in a way that suggested that I should go wherever it was trying to lead me, so I finally gave up trying to pat and just continued walking behind it. The cat led me through several spacious living and dining areas, and an impressive kitchen, all dressed in redwood, marble and ceramic tile. The cat leapt under the marble top of the centre island and sat down in front of an envelope and a couple of handwritten notes.

Is this what you want me to see, Kitty? I asked as I picked up the papers. I heard another thump overhead from the same direction of the last one. I paused for a moment to listen for any other noises, but there was nothing but silence until the cat meowed and brought my attention. attention back to the kitchen.

I looked at the cat who eyed me expecting me from where he sat. His totally unbothered demeanor made me feel like there really was nothing to worry about. I mean, if the noise didn't alarm the cat, it was probably because it wasn't out of the ordinary, right? All right, let me see, I said, examining the papers I picked up. The envelope, as expected, held the $200 I was getting paid for sitting, plus a little extra in case I wanted to order out for dinner. The first note was a written thank you, plus a list of duties I was expected to carry out for the week.

The second note, and this one made me laugh out loud, was the list of care instructions for the cat. The first item on the list said, You must address the cat as Mr. Sox. He does not approve of being called by any other name, such as cat or kitty or puss-buss. Repeated infractions may result in dire consequences. I looks back at the cat, who still sat silently watching with his tail waving around lazily at his feet.

"'Miss the socks, eh?' I said, reaching over and finally scratching him gently behind his ear. He purred and rubbed his head approvingly against my hand. "'That's a cute name. I promise I won't forget it,' I could, continuing to stroke his luxurious fur. I went back to reading the list. There are several cuts of meat in the refrigerator. When Mr. Sox is hungry, open the refrigerator and allow him to choose the meat he wishes to eat. If nothing is to his liking, someone will arrive shortly to help you provide a suitable replacement meal. I stopped reading and looked dubiously at the refrigerator to my left.

It was one of those huge ones that had wooden doors that looked like they belonged on a barn. A pretty common style found in new Brisbane homes. I shook my head, chuckling at what had to be a joke. There was no way Ron's family would spoil a cat to that extent. Besides, who we supposed to just arrive to help feed a cat? I smirked nobly as I look back down to read more of the list of requirements. Do not pet Mr. Sox's tail.

He does not like it and will chew through your wrists until the offending hand is removed from your body. Should this occur, someone will arrive shortly to help you make amends. While this was getting a bit gruesome. I had to hand it to Ron. He had truly done a good job of making me feel welcome by welding together two of my biggest obsessions. It felt good to know that he cared enough to do this,

even if I was officially over my crush. I stopped petting the cat and pulled out my phone to send Ron a quick text, telling him how much I appreciated his cursed rules cat prank and how much I absolutely adored his cat. I returned my phone to my pocket and went back to the list. If a child should arrive asking to play with Mr. Sox, ask them what game they wish to play. If it's hangman, allow the child to enter. But don't watch them play.

If it's hide and seek, tell the child to go away and immediately close the door. Do not allow entrance if you value your safety. If it's Beekaboo, leave the house at once and never return. If you should choose to stay, Someone will arrive shortly to dispose of your remains. This was getting pretty good, I thought. I had no idea Ron was into creepy pastors, but this was the work of someone who was at least familiar with them.

Maybe a little heavy-handed, but it was still not too shabby. There was still more to the list, but I decided to see if there was anything good to snack under the cupboards before I continued. I wanted to sit down with some milk and maybe some cookies if they had them and get comfortable while I enjoyed Ron's attempts at creeping me out. I sat the pages back down on the counter in front of Mr. Sox

who was currently engaged in cleaning his coat and went to bat the kitchen to hunt down some goodies. After a few minutes of rummaging, I hit the motherload of cookie supplies in a low cabinet near the fridge. I grabbed a plate and palled it up with one of each type of cookie I found, totaling 12 altogether.

I sat the plate down next to the creepy list, making the assumption that Mr. Sox would not be interested in cookies and went to the fridge to hopefully find some milk. When I opened the massive doors, I discovered the cuts of meat that had been mentioned in the care instructions of the cat. Only that I hadn't realized that those cuts would be human body parts, which took up several shelves and leaked blood all over everything else in the fridge. The smell that hit my nose erased any thought that I might have of the body parts being fake.

I slammed the fridge shut just in time before violently spoon my breakfast all over its doors. Luckily for me, perhaps, since Mr. Sox probably wouldn't have found vomit-covered meat to his liking. With my empty stomach still painfully heaving, I turned away and tried to get my wobbly legs to do something useful. But I only managed to slip on my puke and go down hard on one knee. My cell phone popped out of my pocket and clattered to the floor, landing screen-side up, that I get to see that there was an incoming text from Ron. I scrambled over to the phone, hoping that I could call Ron for help

or tell him off if this really turned out to be a stupid prank. I'd log the phone and read the text. Cursed rules. Is that one of your scary story things? Ha, very funny, creepy cat lady. Anyway, we don't have any cats. You didn't let in any strays, did you? My mom would have a real fit as you found out

you let some fervil use her house as litter box, lull. Hey, don't forget to feed my iguana. He's small, so you can carry him around the place if you want. Much cooler than a cat, for reals. Later. He's lying. Please let him be lying, I thought. I pressed the button that would call his number,

desperately wanting him to answer and tell me everything was fine. But instead of dialing run up, my phone simply went dead. I frantically pushed the power button and tapped at the screen, but it was like there was no battery. I cried out in frustration I was about to throw my phone away from me but then I thought better of it and returned it to my pocket

as carefully as I could I got back to my feet and started shambling off in the direction of the callless phone I spotted on the other side of the kitchen I didn't know run cell number but before I got to the phone I heard the doorbell ringing Mr Sox perked up at the sound of the doorbell

ending his tongue bath and running excitedly over to me. He slinked his body around my feet once and then started moving towards the front door, watching to make sure I followed. I limped on after him, hoping that whoever is at the door would be able to help me. I swiped a dish towel on the way out of the kitchen to wipe away some of the vomit on my face and t-shirt. Funny how this seemed to matter to me at the time. The cat sat down at the entrance to the foyer and left me to walk the distance to the front door on my own. I looked warily towards the stairs as I passed, remembering the thumping noise I'd heard upstairs earlier, that had definitely not been a small iguana making those sounds.

Finally, I got to the door end, without hesitation, opened it. Hi, said the pretty little redhead girl, standing on the opposite side of the door. Can I come in and play with Mr. Sox, please? Play with... Look, I really don't have time for this right now. I've got to find someone who could help me here. I looked around the child and spotted a man in a green suit at the other end of the walkway to the house. He was facing away from us and was he wearing the head of a cat costume?

The ears on top of his furry grey head twitched about like they were real. But that just couldn't be. I suddenly dreaded the thought of him turning around to look at me. But I really want to play hard and seek, said the girl, bringing my attention back to her. I just stared at her for a moment, but then jumped back away from the door when I remembered the instructions on that list. What had it said about a child wanted to play with a cat? Hide in seek was one of the games right. What was I supposed to do?

Unfortunately for me, the girl must have taken my retreat as an invitation to come in because she quickly ran into the foyer, causing Mr. Sox to take off running upstairs. The child ran to the foot of the stairs. then turned back to look at me. I'm going to look for Mr. Sucks, she said. Her eyes, which had been a lovely shadow brown, turned into a cold and hateful black. Her sweet, innocent voice was now a deep, gravelly baritone

infused with evil intent. Don't try to find us. With that, her little legs carried us swiftly up the stairs and out of sight. Screw this, I thought. Screw this, I thought. I turned toward the front door, thinking that I'd just leave all this craziness behind. But the exit was blocked off by the man in the suit. I screamed as widely as I would have at any jump scare in a horror movie.

But, thankfully, the man continued to stand facing away from me. Before I could think to do anything else, the door slammed shut between us, freeing me of the sight of the suited figure, but closing off the nearest means of escape. No, no, no, I cried, grabbing the doorknob and trying with all my might to get the door back open. It wouldn't budge. Please, let me out, please, help! I yelled, bang my fists against the door. There was no response on the other side, and there was no help.

The sound of the little girl giggling behind me caused me to spin around. My eyes wide with terror and my heart seemed to jump into my throat. But there was no one behind me at all, and the house fell into silence. I just stood there for a while, not knowing what to do and being too scared to do anything else. After a while of nothing happening, I was finally able to calm down a little and start thinking again. I decided that if this was truly some cursed rules mess that I'd gotten myself into, then I should probably go read the whole list and make sure I didn't worsen the situation. Cautiously, I tiptoed across the foyer and then dashed all the kitchen once it seemed that the coast was clear.

At the entrance to the kitchen, I tipped over a tort wire that I hadn't noticed in my haste. My legs went weak with fear and I immediately collapsed to the floor instead of trying to stare my feet. This turned out to be a good thing, because right after I fell, something big went whooshing over my head. I looked up and saw that it was a silver serving tray hanging. by a rope from the ceiling. What must have been, every sharp knife in the kitchen was attached to its front, stabbing out towards the kitchen entrance. I heard the little girl giggling again, though I didn't see her anywhere, and I wondered if

this booby trap had somehow been her handiwork. Only after there was no more giggling did I slowly and carefully crawl my way over to the island countertop, where I had left the care instructions. Once over to the island, I used a car. couple of the drawer handles that pull myself up. The plate of cookies still sat there, untouched, now with a tall glass of milk sitting beside it. There was no way I was trusting that snack now, of course, especially now that the entire rest of the island was covered in active mouse traps.

I could just see a tantalizing corn of the cat care instructions sticking out from beneath one of the traps, daring me to come get it. Once again, the giggling started up behind me, and this time I spun up. around with irritation. This brattie little demon child was really starting to tick me off. Jeez, would you just shut up? I yelled.

Just shut the hell up. Surprisingly, this had the desired effect of ending the laughter. I nervously turn my attention back to the countertop and then thought I saw an easy solution to my current problem. I carefully picked up the plate of cookies

and appended the treats all over the traps covering the list. Once all the snapping stopped I brushed the traps out the way and snatched up the list of rules I hurriedly sat down on the floor with my back pressed to the island hoping that this was a safe enough place to read

as I swept over the list I noticed that something about it had changed before the whole thing had been written in blue ink now some of the words were written in red ink the rule about the child coming over to play with Mr. Sox was now read I suppose that was because I had broken the rule about not letting in the hide-and-seek player

But further down the list Another rule I had yet to read was written in red Always know Mr Sox's location If he goes missing long enough Someone will arrive shortly to help you find him You may go missing as a result I groaned in despair as I realised That now I had to go looking for Mr Sox

And that terrible little girl After giving it some thought, I figured I should probably arm myself before I went looking for that little psycho. She was dangerous enough when I wasn't looking for her. I could only imagine that she would be even worse if I disobeyed a directive not to look for her and the cat. Heart pounding hard in my chest, I got to my feet, pocketing the list and looked around. The booby traps were gone. Nothing hung from the ceiling and no traps littered the island counter. I hoped that meant the game had changed now, that I was going to look for her, but I kept my guard up nonetheless.

I crossed the kitchen to check the knife block by the sink, which appeared to have all its knives in place. I pulled out a butcher's knife and imagined plunging it into that demon child's heart. No way, not possible. I couldn't just stab someone, even if they were evil. I put the knife back and turned to look for something else. I spotted an assortment of castine pans hanging against the wall above the counter where the cordless phone sat. As I approached the area, the phone began to ring. The room cautioned to the wind, I ran over and snatched up the phone, slamming it to my ear and calling into it.

Hello, can you hear me? I really need help, responded a low, wheezing voice. Whoever was on the line sounded old and weary, like death was only a few heartbeats away. Where is Mr. Sox? He asked. I, uh, he's in the, uh, I mean, I stammered, not wanting to say that I didn't know where the cat was, but also being completely caught off guard by the question. I had expected a normal person to be in the line when I answered, but anyone asking about Mr. Sox couldn't be a normal person.

Do you need help finding him? The ancient voice asked. No, I yelled frantically into the phone. You stay where you are. I can find him myself. I pressed the button to end the call and threw the phone down on the counter, wincing as I realized that I just admitted not knowing where the cat was. Knowing that time was not on my side, I hurriedly grabbed a medium-sized cast iron off its hook and swung it around a few times.

It had a good weight to it, but it didn't feel too heavy for me to wield it as a weapon, bracing myself to face the unknown, and took a deep breath and headed out of the kitchen toward the front of the house. Mr. Sox? I called out, looking about nervously as I stepped through the dining room. I thought I heard a faint meow, so I called out again. Good boy, come on out, Mr. Sox. This time I heard the meow mulled. multiple times so that I was able to narrow the sound down to one location, the large walking closet beneath the stairs leading up to the second floor.

Now standing in front of the closet door, I called out the cat's name one more time to be certain and was met with scratching sounds from inside. Mr. Sox obviously wanted out of there. Still tightly gripping the pan with both hands, I just stood there in fear for a moment, finding myself unable to even reach for the doorknob. A sudden sound of wheezing coming from the second floor pushed me into action. Holding the pan in my left hand, I quickly reach for the knob with my right hand and yanked the door open. Mr. Sox bolted out of the closet, ran past me and scrambled his way to the top of the grandfather clock nearby. He stood up there, arching and hissing in the

direction of the closet door. I looked back at the closet until the demon child standing before me, Her eyes as black as darkness encompassing the room behind her. She bared her shiny, razor-sharp, obsidian teeth at me in an angry snarl and stunted feet in a childish tantrum. I told you not to look for us, she yelled in that deep, horrible voice that had no right coming out of a child's mouth. Then, springing forward like a venomous snake, she came at me with long, black talons, aiming for the throat.

Without thinking, I took a back-handed swing at her with a cast iron pan, and, surprisingly, landed a solid hit square across her face. The girl crashed awkwardly to the floor, and then looked up at me with her hand pressed against a cheek. That's not fair, she whined in a sweet little girl voice, her pretty brown eyes welling up with tears. I don't want to play anymore. I watched as a little girl got to her feet and walked unsteadily toward the front door. She was sobbing in earnest now, and for a moment I found myself wondering what kind of monster I was to hit a poor little girl in the face with a frying pan.

But then I noticed that my cast iron skillet was bent in half. Yeah, there was no innocent little girl leaving the house, and I was definitely lucky to be coming out of this nightmare playday unscathed. Once the child walked out and closed the door behind her, I let out a sigh of relief and let the pan fall. to the floor. Once again, the house was silent. It wasn't long before Mr. Sox broke the silence, beckoning me with a plaintiff meow. As soon as I got near enough to the clock, he jumped down to me, and I barely reacted quickly enough to catch him in my arms. He rubbed his forehead against my chin, then jumped down to the floor and rubbed his body against my legs, before leading me once again toward the kitchen. This time, he led me to a small corridor, with a few,

doors just off the side of the kitchen. He went over to one of the doors and started scratching at it, meowing to let me know he wanted to go in there. What now? I sighed wearily. You want to go hang out in another closet? Is that it? I got ready to open the door for the cat, figuring that I'd at least know where he was, and I could maybe have a moment to myself to figure things out. Something told me I should consult the list before I did anything else though. So I took it from my pocket and skimmed for anything that might pertain to the current situation. My heart skipped a beat when I saw it. Do not let Mr. Sox into the basement. You will regret having to go down to retrieve him. If you do not retrieve him

in a tiny fashion, someone will arrive shortly to retrieve you. Mr. Sox, I said quietly. That's the basement door, isn't it? socks turned away from the door, sat down and stared at me. All right, look, I said, squatting down in front of the cat and looking in the eyes. What do you say? We take a little break from all the excitement for a while. I can go clean up the mess I made in the kitchen and you can grab something to eat from the fridge. You, uh, I mean, uh, can grab some crackers or something to bunch on. I can change into some fresher clothes and the two of us can sit on some comfy chair and do some reading together.

that sound good to you? Mr. Sox walked over to me and rubbed up against me, purring as I stroked his soft fur. I was, of course, careful to avoid petting his tail. Then I followed him to the kitchen, where we took the first of our meals together.

I was able to stomach a few crackers and some warm ginger ale that I found in the pantry, but it was a bit of a battle. I just didn't want to upset the cat by refusing to eat near him or whatever. I think it'll be a lot. long time before I'll ever feel comfortable around me to gain though. But I'm sure I'm ready to learn now.

So, that all happened yesterday, and things have been going okay since then. The rules are pretty easy to follow now that I know them all, and Mr. Sox is actually a really nice cat. He stays near me as I take care of household chores, lets me carry him around in a sidebag when I need to go out, and curls up in my lap for a cat nap whenever I sit down to watch TV or do something at Ron's computer. Yes, I have internet and my phone works again, but the rules don't allow me to ask for outside help,

so I'm just using them for the usual stuff. There's no chance that anyone who knows me will see this posted, so this should be okay. I'm not posting here to ask for help. I just want people, even total strangers, to know about what's happening to me. It's hard not to let my friends know about this, especially Ron, since this is his freaking house. I have told my friends and my boyfriend not to come visit, making up some stupid excuse about wanting to find out who I really am through this week of isolation.

Given how that sounds, they probably won't be terribly surprised when I come out of here and newly minted her before. I just couldn't risk having one of them show up and start breaking rules all over the place or letting Ron know that I let a cat in the house. Anyway, at least I know this isn't some forever agreement. At the bottom of the list of rules, there was a final instruction that gave a time frame. In the morning of the seventh day, Mr. Sox will be returned to his owner. Do not accompany Mr. Sox to the front door when he is ready to leave. If you see whoever comes to retrieve him, you will forfeit the use of your eyes. Payment for your service shall be left in the mailbox for your convenience.

Many thanks and sincerely yours. Mr. Toubin. to Mr. Toobin In case you happen to be hearing this Mr. Sox is a very lovely cat. He really is. But please do not think of me again if he needs sitting

or at least let me know well in advance of the time so I can prepare. I'm assuming that you will pay me well for the trouble, but please make it in cash. I don't know if you had anything else in mind but just know that money works for me.

To anyone else out there hearing this, Please, just be careful if you find a list of rules that seem out of place or just plain ridiculous. Read all of the rules, and for your own safety, try not to break them. It really could mean the difference between life and death.