I am absolutely terrified to be writing this out, in case the thing finds me, or traces the post back to me. It knows. It always knows. But I can’t stay silent. I won’t. Not when so many people are in danger. Just… Just remember me, and my story. Please.
Okay, so everything, this personal Hell of mine, it all started two months ago. I won’t say where I live, just in case it finds this post. I was working a shift at my job as a psychologist, and I’ve been seeing a few patients consistently for months at this point. All of them are a bit odd, but that’s to be expected. People are unique, and I’m not one to judge.
I feel like I have a reason to be worried.
Three of my patients (using fake names for their safety, not sure it matters now) were Elias, Thomas, and Marie. All three of them had been previously diagnosed with PTSD from being veterans, and often have flashbacks. I gave them my number so that they could call me if they were going to do anything… rash. I made them promise that they would call me.
Elias was found dead two months ago. The police ruled it a suicide, but I know that’s not true. When I went to his house, I noticed three things: the note was not his writing style, the noose was sloppily tied, and his medication was gone. I could excuse the last two and call him mentally unstable, but the note wasn’t how he writes at all. It broke me to see such a good man in such a state. I went to the coroner’s office and asked for the suicide note. I got permission from the police to keep the suicide note, and I checked for any invisible ink. Call it a hunch, but I’m certain that Elias would not say things like this. Nothing new showed up on the page.
For context, I know I didn’t mess it up. My granddad was an FBI agent and my great grandma was a codebreaker in World War 2, and my parents always raised me to ask questions, to look for answers until there are none left to find.
Anyway, back to the note. The note said that he was sorry, but he couldn’t go on, everything was too much.
The ink said differently.
I spilled a bit of coffee on the note, and the ink was now red and the words were beyond unsettling. It said “IT IS COMING.” in bold, jagged letters. I thought my eyes much be playing ticks on me when I looked out my window and saw a figure on the street, but it disappeared when I blinked. The red ink was gone from the letter, too. Just poof, gone.
I did not sleep that night. Marie died a week and a half later from a drug overdose, but I don’t believe that either. One death is a tragedy, and I never believed in coincidences. Marie overdosed on ziprasidone, a medication for hallucinations. I never gave her that, nor did any other doctors. Apparently, she had a psychotic break due to her hallucinations and overdosed, but I have never heard such bullshit. I demanded to see her body after the autopsy, and the police were very hesitant, but allowed me to see her body. I almost cried when I saw her. She was a good woman and I couldn’t imagine anyone doing this to her. Yes, I am fully convinced that she was murdered.
On her palm were the words “I SEE YOU” in the same jagged letters, but they were etched into her skin. I heard a thud, and turned around to see the same figure outside the door. Again, gone in the blink of an eye. And again, the words were gone, too.
I went to the local library of my town and looked for any records of paranormal encounters the following morning. I don’t believe in ghosts, or monsters. At least, I didn’t back then. Now… I’m not so sure.
There was some record of a group of settlers disappearing in the 1850’s, but nothing too detailed. There was also an old news article about a few prospectors were found ripped to shreds in the desert, but nothing fit. Again, I won’t say where I live.
Oh, no.
I hear it.
It’s scratching at the window.
Oh god.
…
It’s stopped. I have to rush this out. I need to tell you what happened to Thomas. Poor… poor… Thomas…
Thomas went missing three days ago. He was getting more and more paranoid following the deaths of Marie and Elias, saying that something was after them. He kept on screaming names of monsters in our last session, saying that it was coming to take him. I… I’m ashamed to say I didn’t believe him. I’m sorry, Thomas.
I found him two hours ago, and that’s why I have to post this: this is my last chance to set the record straight. There is something out here, and it killed Marie, Thomas and Elias.
Marie’s body was taken out of the morgue to be transported for the funeral, and the truck was attacked. The metal was ripped to shreds, it was torn and blood was everywhere. It has been hidden from the public, but look into the accidents surrounding the Sedona area in December of last year. I was driving when I saw a bloodied truck, limbs and bones scattered, and no coffin, only a trail of blood in the Arizona sand. When I blinked, it was gone.
Elias’s body was cremated, but somebody stole his ashes. The next day, the morgue was set ablaze. Marie and Elias were in different morgues, but that is not a coincidence. His urn was never recovered, but when I drove by the burnt remains, I saw the black figure, but it was more… animalistic. It had horns, it was taller, and it was on all fours, but still seemed vaguely human. Blink, gone.
When Thomas… When Thomas’s body was found two hours ago, the police wouldn’t let me see him, but I had to, I just had to. It was horrible. Nothing was left of him except for his left hand, his bones, and bits of blood and flesh, all scattered across the alleyway. His left hand had his engagement ring on it. He had finally found happiness, and it was taken away from both him and his fiancé.
On his ring was one phrase, and I knew it well. “Til death do us part.” His fiancé loved that phrase. I can’t tell him now, I can’t. I don’t have time. The engraved words were different. It said, in that same, damned font…
“I AM STILL HUNGRY.”
I blinked, and I saw the disgusting, rotting face of some skeleton of a creature, smiling back at me with a toothy grin. It whispered my name, and I wanted to cry. I blinked, and it was gone. I drove home and locked every door and window, and now I’m hiding in my attic.
I can hear it coming for me now. In the shadows, through the walls. Devin, Thomas loved you. Anthony, take care of Muffin and Thumper for Marie. Rosemary, I’m sorry about Elias.
It’s coming.
It’s going to eat me.
It’s calling out to me.
It is still hungry. Maybe it will be quick. Maybe the thing isn’t real.
Blink. It’s here. Blink. It’s smiling. Blink. It extends its freakishly long claws, caressing my face tenderly, leaving a little scratch along my cheek. Blink. It’s gone.
I breathed out a breath of relief that it’s gone, but I pause, unable to think anything but this one phrase:
It’s still hungry.