Hello everyone.
Something quite chaotic has happened to me. I’ve been a lurker of this subreddit for a while, but I never thought I’d be the one here telling the story.
I would often try to convince myself that your guy’s stories are fake, and this entire subreddit is one massive joke, but deep down, I believed them. And now that I’m telling the story, I ask you, reader: Please believe me here.
Before we get into what made me finally post here, I want to tell you my backstory so things make more sense, or maybe just to get my story out there before I’m forgotten. I’m no longer concerned about people finding out my identity. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. At this point I wouldn’t be surprised if I legally do not exist anymore.
For those who aren’t interested in my backstory and just want me to get to the point, I put a literal hole in my story using about 5 blank lines so you know where to skip to.
Anyway, let’s get into it.
I was born in the early 2000s to a pair of seemingly loving parents. They were always there for me to show me the world. I was always a very curious kid, always asking questions about the universe and the meaning of life. As fed up with me as they were, they would answer my endless questions with pleasure.
That was until kindergarten, where I was introduced to the concept of socializing with other children. This is something I simply did not understand. While other kids would run around the playground, I’d sit and think. I know this sounds like some r/wokekids shit, but trust me.
I just didn’t understand why I would need to interact with these “people”. As far as I knew, they were NPCs in the game of life. I saw no use in them other than tools to help me achieve my goals, which were to truly understand what the hell this “life” thing is.
My teachers noticed this and recommended I get checked out, so my parents took me to a psychiatrist, and I was diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome, a form of high-functioning autism.
My parents were furious.
They just wasted 5 years raising a child for it to turn out like this? How is this idiot going to continue the legacy of our family?
To them, I was a failure. A mistake. A mathematical error.
My parents then decided to have another kid to replace me. This kid was apparently more “normal”, and therefore became the golden child. He was seen as the next heir to their legacy, while I was that child’s failed attempt.
I’m not sure why they didn’t give me up for adoption, but my best guess was that they still saw some use in me, and that was for manual labor.
My parents would work during the day and come home to expect everything to be maintained by me. I cooked food, washed dishes, cleaned the house, etc. Meanwhile, they’d spend all their free time interacting with the new child. Except for changing diapers and bathing. That was done by me.
I was to spend as little time around this child to avoid him “learning” my traits. This child was also explicitly told to not learn from me as well, as I was a failure.
As for school, I was put in special ed, which in this school at least, absolutely sucked. It was more like just daycare, we didn’t really learn anything. All the “disabled” kids were put in the same classroom. And oh my god, these people were dumb. No offense, but they were complete idiots.
In this class were also two other kids like me. We weren’t exactly friends, but we worked together with a common objective: Survive.
Worst of all, me and the smart kids were encouraged to be like the dumb kids. While they could barely comprehend the concept of multiplication, they were incredibly polite, and with a constant smile on their face. If I recall, I even once angrily approached one of them and yelled “Why are you so happy?! What about this makes you happy?!”
Anyway, me and the two smart kids, however, were aggressive. Angry. Easily frustrated. And always one step ahead of all the other kids, and sometimes even the teachers. To the teachers, we were unruly, compared to the dumb kids which were compliant and made their job easier. All this school seemed to care about was profit. The less effort they had to put into maintaining their assets, which were us, the better.
However, I did have some family that cared about me. My paternal grandmother in upstate New York. One day, my parents let it slip what they were doing to me, and she was furious. She offered to take me “off their hands” but they refused, as I was their servant. She then tried to get Child Protective Services involved, but they were unable to confiscate me as what they were doing was still technically legal. Besides, what would happen in foster care would likely be far worse than what’s going on in my home.
So, me and Grandma made one final agreement. The moment I turned 18, she would get me out of there.
For the next few years, we’d exchange information, and for once, I truly felt loved by someone. I’ve been told all my life that I was a failure and a mistake in the pregnancy process. The idea that she was putting this much effort into rescuing me was unfathomable, a concept that I simply did not understand. But I was not going to turn this down.
Finally, in 2021, on my 18th birthday, the moment the clock struck 12, I gathered my limited belongings and rushed out the front door. Waiting in the driveway was an Uber, also containing my grandma. The two of us were delivered to the nearest airport and took a flight from my suburban home in California to a remote town in New York.
There, I moved in with her, and that’s where I lived until now. Well, I still live there, but, you get my point.
I cannot understate how amazing it is that I was to get this. The only jobs I was even eligible for were shitty minimum wage jobs that I would have to dedicate my life to in exchange for affording the bare necessities for survival. If it weren’t for my grandma taking me in, I would have nowhere else to go. This made me immensely grateful for her support. Luckily for me, my autism spectrum disorder diagnosis allowed me to live off of disability, and I was able to live in a house my grandma bought 60 years ago with her late husband, back when buying houses on one person’s salary was actually possible.
Now, you know my backstory. Or maybe you just skipped this part. I don’t know. Regardless, let’s get into what happened that made me decide to post here.
So, at about 10:00 PM that night, something happened that I’ll never forget.
Being nocturnal, I am often awake around that time. I was in my room, on my computer playing Minecraft, while Grandma was sitting on the living room couch doing… something. Probably reading a book. I have no idea. Anyway, this was just a normal night for us, until I heard a loud smash and someones screaming.
I immediately rushed out of my room to see the giant living room window smashed, and Grandma on the floor being mauled by some terrifying creature.
So you get an idea of what’s going on, I’ll describe it to you. It was a massive jet black four-legged creature the size of a horse. Each leg consisted of massive claws which it walked on. It’s head looked like that of a lion, but with no fur and just black skin.
The creature seemed to have charged through the window and attacked the nearest human,, which was Grandma. It tackled her to the ground and began mauling her abdominal area, ripping out her intestines and sucking them up like a noodle. She screamed for my help, but there was nothing I could do to save her that wouldn’t involve getting us both killed.
After standing there for a few seconds, in shock, I made a break for it. I ran downstairs. As Grandma was already incapacitated, the creature decided to chase me, however, it was too large to fit through the doorway.
The creature continued trying to get itself through the doorway. I realized this wouldn’t last for long, so I continued down the basement and located my gun collection that every freedom-loving American has in their basement. With my shotgun loaded and extra shells in my pocket, I examined the creature’s anatomy once more, and determined that the head, which was conveniently the only body part on this side of the staircase, was where it was most vulnerable.
I then took aim, got as close as I could safely, and opened fire.
The creature made a loud screech of pain and began attempting to flee. Instead of trying to force itself down the staircase, it reversed through the hole it had already made. After several direct hits to the face, it managed to free itself, and fled back into the forest.
I then returned to Grandma, who’s abdominal area was ripped apart in the seconds that the creature was on her, but was somehow still alive, though unconscious. It seemed her heart and lungs were still intact, though I wasn’t going to check.
Regardless, I did the best first aid I could, using my shirt to soak up the blood around the lacerations. I tried to apply a makeshift tourniquet around her torso to stop the bleeding using my pants, but I don’t know how helpful this was.
I dragged Grandma to my car and rushed her to the hospital. But as I drove off, I saw the true extent of this situation. Several creatures, like the one I could barely scare off, were roaming the streets and forcing themselves into the various houses in the neighborhood. Luckily for myself, the creatures seemed to ignore me, possibly due to the speed I was going or being unable to register the fact that there is a human driving the car..
I later saw a military truck blocking the road, and military personell fighting the creatures with their fancy fully automatic rifles. I mindlessly went past them by driving through someone’s lawn, but then the truck started following me. This being the least of my priorities, I continued bringing Grandma to the hospital.
I arrived at the hospital’s emergency entrance, but when I arrived, the hospital had also been raided by these creatures, leaving no emergency medical workers left to treat Grandma. How did I not think of this? The entire town has gone to shit and I expected some ER workers to just be chilling in the hospital waiting to treat my grandma? Fuck, even if they were there, how would they not be completely overwhelmed with injuries from this attack?
The simple answer is, I didn’t think. I was just in “protect loved ones” mode. It’s not like I think much anyway. I can barely comprehend my surroundings in a normal environment, nevermind this clusterfuck of an event.
At this point I just sat there, in shock. I didn’t know what to do.
This was the point I realized I was truly fucked.
One of the creatures approached my car. Still having my shotgun from earlier, I opened fire, this time without having much time to aim. This creature tried to tear me out of my car, but was stopped by the military truck that arrived seconds after I did. The soldiers opened fire and the creature immediately fled.
This rescue quickly turned into even more chaos, however, as soldiers rushed over to me and shouted orders I could barely comprehend. “Put your fucking hands up!” “Get on the ground now!” were the only ones I can recall. I was overwhelmed and confused. I had already gone through a tremendous amount of stress and now this?
Perhaps I’ve played too much Half-Life lately, but I was not ready to put my trust in a bunch of screaming grunts. I pointed my shotgun at them, only because they were pointing their rifles at me. In hindsight, this was a dumbass move, but can you blame me?
Somehow, I wasn’t shot, but disarmed. While I was distracted by the soldiers holding me at gunpoint, a flashbang was thrown into my car. For the few moments I got to experience what it was like being Hellen Keller, my gun was removed and I was arrested by the military, put in handcuffs and thrown into the back of a humvee.
I tried to use this moment to decompress but to no avail. Eventually, I arrived home. I was removed from the humvee and put back into my house
At this point I was completely broken. I did the only thing any man would do. I walked to my bedroom, laid down, and cried. I just wanted it all to end. Before this, I was just proud to get through each day, even though I would spend the entire time playing video games and watching YouTube videos. Just losing Grandma alone was enough to make me break down.
The soldiers stationed at my hometown refuse to elaborate on what’s going on and
I don’t know what happened to Grandma. I believe she is most likely dead, but I still have a glimmer of hope that she did somehow survive and was given medical care after being removed from my car. It’s now the day following that attack I mentioned earlier, and the military has implied that they will strike again tonight.
My best guess on what’s going on here is that they are trying to contain the monsters in my hometown. But why do we have to stay in this? That’s what doesn’t make sense. Why can’t I go somewhere else?
So now, here I am, on my computer, typing this out. I’m about to post my experience to r/nosleep, the subreddit I’ve been a lurker on for the past few months. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me after I post this, but since I somehow still have an internet connection from my phone’s mobile data, I might as well post this sooner rather than later. I hope this subreddit is obscure enough that the government won’t notice me posting my story, as I assume that whatever is going on here is classified to the general public.
However, reader, if you do see this, please copy it down and save my story. I don’t know how long this will stay up, but the government may get this off the internet somehow, so the only way you can preserve my story in that case would be to store this on your own computer.
But before I go, something interesting has been going on. The military has been drafting something to help us survive in this environment.
A list of rules.