It was early 1891 as snow lightly came from the skies near the churchyard. Two moustached gentlemen were smoking cigar under the churchyard in a decrepit stone mine. One’s pocket was filled with coal and luxurious ores. He was a blacksmith named Abraham, wearing a gold-filled monocle. Abraham was wearing an elegant tie under his suit. The other man, John, was a carpenter who had lead in his hands from writing a quick note under the local courthouse. There was a minor shake in the passageway as his journal fell out. “What was that?”, said Abraham, afraidly smoking. “I’m afeard. I shall put down my cigar posterior.”
”No, Abe, cigars are glory, that rumble hath nothing but a misperception, a phenomenon, a hallucination!”, John said as he stood glamorously on his chair.
”I swear, hath it been real, look for thy cracks! They have expanded! We must go to the bunker underground.”, said scared Abraham. Abraham and John, both part of the Gound family, escaped into the bunker. Cockroaches crawled against oak wood, and a tiny hole — filled with not one, but two families of mice and rats was present in a corner eating the remains of leftover cigarette butts. Suddenly, it shook slightly and the whole bunker’s wood fell down toward them. Excited termites went from a small indent in the concrete to feast on the wood. It cracked as a beast ran toward him and possessed them. We never heard of them again.
Fast-forward to 1992. The Soviet Union had just broken up, and they had to confirm they were legally dead. All we had was Abe’s journal. John’s journal was lost down in the churchyard. It had been a century and they had found the area because an old lady reported seeing them smoking as a young 3-year-old girl. Down they went to the decrepit churchyard. “It’s hard to believe this was once a thriving church.”, I soberly said. I was a radical 12-year-old, and as a tween, I liked to play video games on my Game Boy. We lit our torches and went down the stairs. We looked up at broken quartz pillars and stained glass that was once a church with a reverend. Two chairs sat by the left side. Cigarette butts were scattered all over the place. We stepped quietly into the bunker and we saw the corpses of Abe and John. They were green and clammy. As we explored the place, I heard demonic sounds. I was sucked into a deep hole and I was possessed.
The next morning, I was holding in my hands half of my Gameboy. It was covered in my blood. I was almost scared to death. And my bed looked kinda strange. I thought I had removed the mattress while I was possessed until my Gameboy fell. I was being crucified! A crown of thorns was placed around my head. I felt pain. Luckily I survived. I threw out the nails that were attached to my limbs and chest. This experience still haunts me to this day.
P.S. We found John’s journal. Their journals told us their experience and feelings and what they said.