I don’t know if this is even getting on the internet, I haven’t been able to call for help in the past 8 months after I moved in. But let’s start at the beginning. 8 months ago, I moved into a ranch in rural Nebraska, it was all going great, until the people helping me move left. I went to sleep pretty early after having some pizza, but I couldn’t sleep, it started out quiet, it was this, cicada-like chirping. It progressed forward, getting louder until it was right outside my window, I grabbed my gun, and my cell phone, and looked outside. Nothing. The chirping didn’t come back that night, and finally got a big of rest. In the morning I thought it would be best for me to call one of my hunting buddies to come down and spend a few nights, the other line picked up, to the same chirping.
I decided it would be best to clear my head and go fishing at the lake on my property, I brought my gun just in case. The fishing trip was fun, I ate some jerky I packed for lunch and caught quite a few fish, and sure enough, forgot about the chirping. That was until nighttime, I was walking back to the house, that’s when I had my first face-to-face encounter with The Chirper, He’s a horribly disfigured, scrawny, grey, humanoid. He’s the most passive of my neighbors, that’s what I’ve begun to call them. But back to the chirper, he just stands there, chirping, he tries not to be seen, but he doesn’t directly harm me. I booked it home that night, I cooked the fish, and stayed up all night with a shotgun sitting on a rocking chair in my living room.
I slept during the day, that was a mistake, that’s when I met my most aggressive neighbor, Mr. Hands. He is a terrifying amalgamation of hands, with eyes and mouths in the palms. I woke up to it breaking into the house, I shot it twice with my 12 gauge, it didn’t budge, it only screeched, and ran away. I boarded up the window after that, that’s when I began my journal, more of a bestiary of sorts, where I made crude drawings of my neighbors, and marked down how to hide/protect myself from them, never how to fight back, that’s a mistake. But these are just the first two days, you my mysterious, unknown, stranger that is receiving this call for help, are in for a ride.
The third day was mysteriously quiet, so I manned up and picked up my phone for the first time since the chirper incident, I tried to call the police, no signal, my property should have signal, its rather large however, spanning 20 kilometers and including a small lake, two houses, and farm, but it’s mostly forest hiking trails so I thought that it could just be an issue with that. I grabbed my keys, my revolver, my 48-hour bag (a bag with enough supplies to last 48 hours in a survival situation), my journal, and hopped in my Jeep Cherokee, ready to head into the nearest town and report the situation to some police and move back in with my college roommate. The first few minutes of the drive were going well, none of my neighbors popped up out of nowhere, and the car seemed to be working fine. That was until I reached roughly the 35-kilometer mark, and I started to notice that the land looked awfully familiar, and then I reached the main house again. The house had multiple windows broken, and I saw the chirper outside. I picked up my journal, some binoculars, turned off my headlights, and simply observed what was happening. Thats when I learned that these are pack animals. There were a dozen Mr. Hands, about 5 chirpers, and then, the hunters. They are the most intelligent of my neighbors, I’ve only seen them in packs of 20-50, roaming my ranch. They take on the voice of different animals, and even people, I know this because I heard one howl like a wolf, and then roar like a lion moments later. Aside from their mimicry, they are incredibly quick and strong, along with being the smartest among my neighbors. I grabbed my bag, everything else I packed, left the car, and booked it straight towards the lake, I know that the second home on the property, the one I rented out to a family on vacation, is just on the other side of the lake.
I made a mistake when I ran, I stepped on a branch, and heard the shrill screech of Mr. Hands, and the gurgling roar of a hunter, as a 10-foot tall, clawed beast ran from the woods at me, that’s when I learned these hunters can shapeshift. I made it to the lake, shooting blindly behind me at the horde of monsters, and eventually made it onto my fishing boat, and drove into the middle of the lake, and tried to get a bit of sleep, I didn’t succeed. I woke up, after 15 minutes of sleep, to a scratching noise at the bottom of the boat. Thats when I met the swimmers, who appears to be a shark and a hunter mixed together. I quickly accelerated the boat until I reached the other side of the lake, slamming against land as I booked it as fast as I can to where I knew the second house was. There was a gruff looking 40-ish looking old man holding an old hunting rifle, he aimed it right at me. He questioned me on how he can now I’m not a hunter, I explained how all of my neighbors functioned, and for the past 8 months I’ve been living in a quiet, cut off house in the middle of a ranch I can’t leave, only leaving the house to go hunt with Daryl. Speaking of Daryl he has a very nice family, Joanne, his wife, is incredibly kind and a great cook, and his kids, Sandy and David, always manage to stay happy, no matter how many monsters are outside our home, they’re on vacation after all. My life has been pretty stable, regardless of the monsters, but our food supply is running low, and we still haven’t had the balls to go hunt my neighbors, but I have a feeling I will have too soon.