I was a young woman on the cusp of 21, happily engaged to the love of my life Seb (23M) and mother- to - be.
I will always remember the day Seb sat me down and proposed his uncle’s house as a venue for the baby shower. I’d never so much as set foot on the property, and was understandably nervous.
“Can the house accomodate all our guests?” I wondered, gazing into his bright emerald eyes.
They playfully sparkled as he pulled me close. “Trust me, his house is huge, perfect for us!” I was loath to admit it, but something about this house unsettled me. Perhaps it was the secluded location, the dusty rooms… or his uncle’s passing there of suicide- it had apparently been a brutal scene. He had raised Seb, been his father almost, up until then. The Seb I knew and loved was still deeply traumatised- he lost his parents very young, then Jensen… and had lived since then in the foster system. There were good and bad times, he said, but more of the latter.
I would’ve preferred a brighter, spacious venue- such as the one I recently spotted and saved on Pinterest. Still, Seb had his heart set on this house, as it clearly meant so much to him… so I agreed. It was, after all, OUR day.
The drive stretched on- four hours through the deep, sullen woods. I winced at every bump. At 30 weeks, I really did NOT need this sort of stimuli.
The house was a ugly, misshapen thing, cobbled together with little more than planks and sheer desperation. I shot a horrified glance at Seb, but he merely took my hand and led me indoors.
The parlor was decorated tastefully, if a little old, and he’d already set everything up as per my request. Not so bad, if compared to the outdoors. I smiled, our lips brushing as he wrapped his arms around me. “Better?”
“Thank you! Thank you!” I kissed him eagerly. “A perfect shower for our perfect baby!” I teared up a little thinking of the small human inside me, who all too soon would be a young woman with thoughts and opinions and beliefs of her own. Yet I would have her with me for 18 years, 18 beautiful years- what more did I want, need?
The guests filtered in, presenting gifts and congratulations which I accepted gratefully. At some point my SIL, Cecilya, pulled me aside.
Now, Seb and Cecilya were never close. Growing up, she’d been the luckiest of the two: she was adopted by a wealthy upper- class family right off the bat and lived a privileged life while Seb was left with only his uncle for company. She loved to dress up even for casual events such as hiking, cave exploration, etc. And then complain to no end that she wasn’t comfortable.
Even at my baby shower, she wore a ruffled, layered dress with taffeta that gave the illusion of a gentle, shimmering mist and “Hey, I’m The Baby Aunt” embroidered in iridescent letters over a v- necked corset, her elegant white- blonde waves braided back and pinned up in some elaborate twist at the nape of her neck. I looked drab by comparison, in my lilac maternity dress and little to no makeup.
“Did you know Seb used to keep a diary, when he lived here?”
“No… I had no idea, but it doesn’t matter.”
“Aren’t you curious? Cuz I know I am! I’m sure he’d love to show you the diary! He’d probably trust you more than me anyway. He gets quiet whenever I ask him about the damn thing.”
“No, I don’t wanna pry. If he wanted me to read it he would’ve handed it over by now, trust me. And, y’know, given what he went through while living here it’s probably deeply personal stuff. Some things just shouldn’t be said.”
She shrugged. “Okay,” and handed me a thoughtfully wrapped present. I smiled and thanked her, then headed over to the refreshments table ensuring everything was going well.
All in all, the shower went wonderfully.
Later, as Seb slept, I moved about the house cleaning up last night’s mess. I was starting to feel some pain and prayed I wouldn’t go into labor here and certainly not now. The study had been extensively used as a playroom for the younger children and was consequently trashed. Sighing, I got to work picking gummy worms up off the floor and what I presumed to be furniture. The fabric of my shirt caught on the edge of a drawer. It slammed down.
Silence.
“Babe?!” Seth called, alarmed. “Are you alright?”
I exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to my swollen belly, a gesture of reassurance. “I’m fine!”
“Love you! Call if you need help!”
I smiled to myself, bending to pick up the drawer, when a splash of orange caught my eye. An old school notebook was somehow dislodged from beneath a pile of documents- badly wrapped in colorful Christmas wrapping paper. I noted a crisp sheet of paper beneath it, a copy of our marriage certificate with both our names: Ever Serens, née Reyes, and Sebastian Serens. What was that doing here?! And that diary, too…
I’m still unsure why I did it. All I really know is, in that moment, I knew I had to. I reached for the bundle, trembling.
I peeled back the bright packaging and my breath caught.
Journal 1990 - 1992 Sebastian Serens
I flipped it to the first page, and, with my heart in my mouth, dived right in. What was I expecting to read? Certainly not the words written upon that page in Seb’s looping hand.
February 12, 1990
There is something living in the woods behind our house. I know it because I have seen it. It has an emaciated body and disproportionate limbs. I first saw it lingering by the edge of the woods, and it gets closer every night. I don’t know what to do but I think I should write it all down. Uncle Jensen says that helps with nightmares, only this isn’t a nightmare. It isn’t!
September 24, 1990
It’s getting closer to the house. It makes nouse now too- screeches and horrible wails. Uncle Jensen doesn’t hear them. I’m scared. I will write again, but I don’t know when
I shuddered, chills running down my spine. Had I mistaken Seb’s suggestion for eagerness? Why would he want to revisit such a place? Wouldn’t it be a fresh reminder of what he went through?
That’s awful, I thought, and my heart went out to Seb. How long had he been tormented for? What was tormenting him? I had so many questions, but no answers.
Finally, I worked up the courage to continue, flipping to the middle of the diary, to the entry dated March 6, 1991
It’s so close now. It’s coming for me. I’m sure of it. It calls my name in the night. If I do not write again, it has gotten me.
The last entry, though… was by far the worst…
January 1, 1992
It came. It was scratching, clawing at the walls. Then it shrieked, an ear- piercing shriek, so loud the walls trembled. I could hear it ripping away the our front door.
I screamed for Uncle Jensen, and ran out into the hall. He made me follow him downstairs and be very, very quiet. He had his big, big black hunting rifle, and when the thing looked dead at us through the window, he fired.
The Thing screeched again, claws tearing up the fragile door. Uncle Jensen forced me into a closet and locked it. I banged on the doors until my hands were bloody, and then simply sat in defeated silence.
Then Uncle Jensen screamed, again and again. I could hear the Thing snarling and growling and tearing. When I got out two days later, the policemen asked me a lot of questions. I told them about the Thing and now I wish I hadn’t. They said my uncle killed himself, but I don’t believe them either. He was killed. Mur- der- ed. My foster mother said it when she thought I was asleep, on the phone with the people she calls “Social Services”.
Davy in my class says I can bring my uncle back if I sleep in that house again with my family and don’t die. He got in trouble for telling tales but maybe he’s right. One day when I have a family I will try.
I couldn’t help it. I burst into tears and threw up all over the musty carpet. I jumped to my feet. “Seb” I screamed, as my heart thumped frantically. I thought it might beat out of my chest. “Seb!”
I was halfway up the stairs when an unearthly shriek split the air. I gripped the bannister, terrified for my life and my unborn child’s.
Something was clawing at the walls of this house.
Seb ran out of our room, saw the diary in my hands and paled. He ran down and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Did you read it? Tell me, Ever! Did you read it?!” He ripped it out of my white- knuckled grasp and tore it to shreds.
I was crying so hard I couldn’t even speak. “Y… y… yes,” I gasped, clinging to the stair rail. “We gotta get out of here.”
He shook me, hard. “Bitch. Stupid bitch. We’re gonna die! Why did you read it? We’re gonna die! Fuck!!”
“Stop!” I pleaded, grabbing him by the arm. “Seb, please.” He’d never insulted me like this at all. I was scared and shocked. He whipped around, eyes wild, looking for something to arm himself no doubt.
“Please, just calm down,” I sobbed, falling back against the wall. “Oh my god, we are going to die, aren’t we?” I decided it was maybe best to accept the hard truth. Thhen I thought of her, my child inside of me. I couldn’t let her die. I’d forfeit my life, but not hers, never hers.
He was pacing, muttering to himself, when a another screech sounded just behind us. I looked over my shoulder and saw it, dripping in blood, teeth bared, flesh rotting, staring with dead, empty eyes through the thin, very breakable window.
I screamed at the top of my lungs, and scrambled up the stairs. Seb grabbed me roughly by the waist. “No! We need to run, not hide!” he yanked me down and we stumbled towards the front door. I rooted around in the console for my car keys.
Suddenly the door arched towards us, and the tip of a claw showed through. It was getting in! Just then, something clear, wet, and dismayingly unfamiliar trickled down my legs. I looked down… and very nearly passed out.
Yep, you guessed it… my water broke. Talk about bad timing.
Seb was livid. He gathered me up in his arms and carried me upstairs. “Forget about running,” he said through gritted teeth as he laid me on the cold, slimy tiled floor. He locked the door and knelt, taking my hand, struggling to compose himself. I tried to breathe through my hysterical sobs.
“Shut up!” he said finally, eyes wild. “We can’t let it hear us!” I clutched onto him, shaking uncontrollably.
“What do I do, Seb?! What do I-“
He tightened his grip on me. “I don’t know! Fuck!”
As the contraction tore through me, I recalled through my haze of pain the nurse telling me I’d have to push… bear down.
I bit my lip and did exactly that. Seb was as still as stone. To my horror, I could hear the front door rattling on its hinges. It would give sooner or later, of that I was sure. I bit down on my balled fist, bloodied knuckles throbbing. A ragged scream tore itself from my throat. Seth gripped me even tighter.
“Stay with me, Ever,” he said hoarsely. “Oh, shit.”
Then… she was there. I cradled her in my shaking arms and Seb pulled me to my feet. “Out… we need to get out…” I croaked, just as the front door crashed to the ground.
He prised the window open, hoisted me onto the sill and took our daughter, wrapping her in a blanket, and handed her back to me.
“I’m sorry, Ever, I truly thought it would be gone forever. I just wanted my Uncle back!” his voice shook over those last words as he helped me out the window.
“How could you, Seb? You put me and our daughter in danger… deadly danger for some stupid lie a kid in your school fed you?”
“You have no idea how much my Uncle means to me, I need him back!”
“I thought you were invested in our relationship, but clearly not, if you were prepared to lose us for somebody else. I can’t believe you, Sebastian!” I slapped him, then looked down at my hand, open- mouthed. We never got physical with each other. Tears welled up in my eyes. How did we get here?
He took my hands in his. “It’s okay,” he said. “I love you, Ever.”
I wept harder. He cupped our girl’s face with one hand and smiled. “Give her a good life,” he said softly. When I looked up from her perfect, serene face, I saw grief and unspeakable fear in his eyes. “It’s about time I faced my own demons.”
He let go of my hand and I jumped. Thankfully the house wasn’t very high and I was able to protect myself and my baby. I struggled to my feet, choking back a sob, and limped to the car. I managed to get in, to stuff the key in the ignition. I turned and saw it… saw it, and Seb’s slumped body, the eyes staring and staring, boring into me, and the Thing ravaging him.
I drove away at full speed, barely able to see the road through my tears, clinging to her like my lifeline in a storm.
A pair of hikers discovered me passed out in my car the next morning and took me under their wing. My clothes were ripped and soaked with blood, face bruised and swollen. I screamed incoherently at them, tryingto run away, screaming that it was out to get us. I slammed the car door in their faces but thankfully, they calmed me down and got me out of there. My daughter was sent to the hospital for evaluation, as was I. Once we’d been treated, a investigation was opened to find Seb’s killer… though I knew they never would.
They determined he had died of countless lacerations to the head, neck, and upper body for the most part. The coroner noted the presence of savage bite marks but could not decide what had attacked him. I filed multiple reports stating we were attacked by an “unidentified creature” in the woods and finally convinced them to shut down the investigation after one cop working on the crime scene found his car wrecked, torn apart.
I later did my own research on his Uncle Jensen. He’d been married once before to a certain Rachel Allen- their marriage was reportedly an unhappy one, arranged when they were little more than children. Rachel was suspected of having poisoned their only child, Carl, and of wilful neglect, but the charges were dropped despite her husband’s protests. He was very vocal about her release and filed for a divorce. They got into a huge argument and she disappeared. Rachel Allen was found dead weeks later and her case remains unsolved despite a quantity of evidence pointing towards Jensen being her murderer. After she was discovered, visitors began noticing strange occurences around the house and Jensen’s erratic behavior. Welfare checks were called off when he assured them he was doing just fine
He was arrested briefly after cops found him burning Rachel’s belongings as they believed this might be relevant to the case, but could find no correlation whatsoever and they let him go.
About a year later, Seb’s parents were involved in a fatal hit- and- run and tragically died, leaving Seb orphaned with nobody to turn to but Jensen, who proved himself to be all too happy to adopt the child, and barely mourned his sister Violeta. He however refused to take in Seb’s orphaned sister Cecilya, who was fortunately adopted into a wonderful household.
According to police reports of the scene, Violeta, Seb’s mother, was driving “recklessly” though her friends were outraged: Violeta Iriye Serens, known as Vi to friends and Lettie to family, was described as “a sweet, responsible young woman very aware of safety standards and a loving young mother.”
If Carl had lived, he would’ve been Seb’s age… I can’t help but feel there is a connection here, that Seb served as some form of “replacement”.
Our beautiful baby, Alazne Iriye, is 5 now. Her name means “miracle” which just seems fitting given everything that happened, and she has the same middle name as her grandmother- Seb always wanted that. She has Seb’s beautiful eyes and my blonde curls. Her skin is tanned, and secretly I can’t help but wish it would be the lovely smooth ebony of Seb’s skin. I love her more than anything… yet since the day we left the hospital I have known we are being followed. And in the last months, the faintest scratches can be heard from around the house.
Occasionally, a voice can be heard murmuring “I didn’t… I didn’t…” but never for long. It is always silenced.
I tell myself it is nothing, that my fear of losing her like I lost Seb is making me paranoid. But deep down, I know it is coming for us. We will never be safe. It will come for us one day.
I can feel it.
UPDATE link here