Link to part 2
https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/s/ozHFz4TO0A
I’ve kept my promise, and Nada’s post remains unread, she did tell me she didn’t get around to how we lost Crow. Poor kid, trust me, she’s being way too hard on herself.
Now that being said, if any of you think there is anything I should know, well our promise said nothing about comment sections, and I can’t control what you guys type so, use your best judgement I guess.
Let’s start off with how we’ve been adjusting to Crow.
First off, my kid tends to wake up with scrapes, bruises and welts, the worst of which being…. Shrapnel ( Kurt’s word, not mine) or something in her arm. Tried getting a friend of Kurt’s to remove it, but the guy was astounded, said he couldn’t get any of the dull, grey metal to budge.
Explaining these kinds of things (The lattice of metal we cover with a glove and hope for the best. I wouldn’t know where to begin bullshitting on that one. ) to her school is starting to get, problematic. I’m sure we’re setting off all kinds of red flags, and attention from any branch of law enforcement is not what we are looking for at the moment.
This leaves Kurt and I just about as sleepless as her.
She’s, taking it like a champ, I think anyway. She misses a bit of school, but is so far ahead in the first place, I’m not worried.
What I am worried about, is when this shit is going to end.
I asked Goodall a few times in our brief phone conversations, and the guy tap danced around the subject like Fred Astaire.
My husband and I have tried a few different ways to find out more about this thing that we’re stuck with. Found a lot of bullshit, but met a couple of people who knew what they were talking about. Even they had no specific idea what the hell Crow was, we got some suggestions, but nothing we weren’t thinking already ( demon, haunted, a symptom of a literal curse.).
Kurt, he’s taken to ignoring the thing, and doing a damn fine job of it. It’s at the point where Crow doesn’t even really bother with him anymore.
Me, I’ve had to go a different route, the more I tried to ignore the nearly literal elephant in the room, the more it began to take my brain down that ‘unlucky guy in a Lovecraft story’ path. So I’ll talk to the thing, hasn’t talked back, but sometimes it listens.
After a year or so of “Crow Things”, jump scares and other paranormal errata, we got things down enough to want to take a little vacation. Nowhere fancy, just a weekend at a small amusement park downstate, and a nice hotel. While Crow was still a heavy topic of conversation, Nada wasn’t waking up hurt, and his attempts to terrorize Kurt and myself, had gotten less frequent, and, really, half hearted. Or maybe we just got too used to them, who knows.
I love terrible food. Give me the most deep fried, salted, dipped in Carmel, state fair, heart stopping, Gorden Ramsey enraging shit you can find, and when I saw “Just Fry Us “ I knew this is where we needed to eat our first vacation dinner.
“Why though? “ Kurt says, as I nearly beg to go in.
“ Look at that sign, it’s called the ‘ Fried Everything’, I need the Fried Everything. “ I say.
“I say this with love, you really owe me for this. “ Kurt replies.
I don’t need to describe the place, you’ve seen it, and I don’t mean that in some creepy liminal spaces kind of way. It was the kind of place that was American and proud of it, and it set my expectations extremely high food wise.
We take a seat and before the menus have arrived, we’re presented with a plate of small, deep fried rolls.
“They call them Fry Fellas. “ I say, and they are exactly as good as I expect.
Our waiter comes up to the table passing out menus that meet, no, exceed my expectations.
The guy is in his mid 20’s, short blond hair, and looks athletic. As he passes us the menu I notice a bit of ring rash on his arm.
“You fight? “ I say, loving this place more by the second.
The guy looks surprised, “I do actually, just a few local promotions. Makes me a couple bucks on the side. “
“Small world, my side gig too. We know any of the same people? “ I ask.
The guy seems friendly, and after a few minutes of talking, we find out, in fact we do know a couple of the same people.
“What about the heavyweight there? “, the man, Thomas, asks.
“Oh God no, hubby is not that kind of fighter. “ I say, laughing.
A cloud passes over the young guys face, no scowl just a brief flash of unease.
“oh, well, I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order. “ He says, walking off.
Kurt laughs, “You get that he thought you were hitting on him right? “
“What, no, I just kept him yapping too long and he’s going to get in crap. “ I reply.
I figure I’m right when he comes back with not only his order pad, but a gourmet looking, pop rock rimmed, twizzler straw having, pink whipped cream topped Shirley temple for Nada.
Kid is wise beyond her years, but she has my taste in food.
Thomas takes our order, and before leaving says, “Great meeting you Dan, we’ll make your dinner great again. “
“Didn’t like that. “ Kurt says after Thomas has walked away.
“I won’t be getting the bumper sticker, but guy probably just thinks we are somehow one of the tribe. “ I reply.
“You. “ Kurt says, smiling.
We find ourselves waiting about a half hour for our meal. Knowing how deep fryers operate, I’m a bit confused.
Another thing has me confused.
Something I know how to spot in a place I shouldn’t be seeing it.
“Nada, you okay hon? “ I say, half expecting some Crow related horror to jump off at any moment.
“ I think so? “ she says.
Her eyes are a little unfocused, her speech isn’t quite right. I take the drink and smell.
It takes a second, but beneath a shit load of sugar and artificial flavoring, I smell it.
“Dan? “ Kurt says.
“Get Nada, we’re leaving. “ I growl.
I intend to do just that, I get that the fucker dosed my kid, but I also get that if I go throwing punches, no matter how deserved, I’m going to be the one in jail. With cops sniffing around places I probably don’t want them sniffing.
“Sir, your bill. “ I hear as I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“Dan. “ Kurt says, I shrug his hand away.
“Take Nada outside, I’m not going to do anything stupid. I promise. “ I assure him.
Kurt takes Nada outside, I love him, but he’s too trusting.
I walk over to the star spangled desk, making eye contact with the young man who spiked my kid’s drink.
“You slipped my kid booze. “ I say, calmly.
“Your kid was sneaking drinks off of other patrons tables. I’d have mentioned it, but you seemed a violent kind of guy. So I didn’t want to upset you. And I’ve got 3 people who will back me up on that if it comes down to it.
Your bill. “ Thomas smiles.
“Fuck your bill. “ I say, voice level, staring daggers at the little shit. He starts to talk and I stop him, “ Let me guess, if I don’t pay you call the cops.
Do that, I drag our ass outside, paint the parking lot with your face, and claim we were just engaged in mutual combat. Gotta love Washington.
If you had a security camera or two, you could probably prove it’s assault but you don’t, so it’ll be a greasy fucking trial the cops won’t touch.
Call ‘em. “
It’s not an empty threat, but it’s not a loaded one either. I’d love this kid to give me an ironclad reason to defend myself, but he’s smart enough not to.
“Sir, you are banned from the premises. I’ll be contacting the owner in regards to pursuing charges. “ He tries to seem smug, but he knows this goes no where.
And that’s the thing with this kind of hateful bullshit. At the end of the day everyone involved just feels ripped off, and impotently angry.
Kurt is waiting outside, with how nervous he’s looking, I think maybe he isn’t as trusting as I thought.
He knows me well.
“He’s fine, no cops, and I didn’t pay him. How’s Nada? “ I ask.
“Well, she’s had a couple, but I think she’s going to be fine. “ Kurt replies.
We begin to walk back to the hotel, Kurt and I have a great time explaining to a 12 year old with a mild buzz on, the fine points of the situation.
Nada stops, I hear a gurgling, she begins to rummage through her backpack, pulling out a small pack of Gravol. She pops one, and looks to us, shamefully, “ Sorry, stomach hurts. “.
We reassure her, and by the time ten o’clock hits we’re all fine, sitting around the hotel, eating food that was less interesting but tamper free.
Kurt and I are having a pg conversation about what type of person would go after a kid, when Nada shrieks.
You know why, it’s the whole point of this post. The thing that she couldn’t talk about.
Minutes later we are combing every inch of the walk between the hotel and the restaurant. Kurt has flashlights for all of us, but as dawn comes to join us in our search, we still haven’t found Crow.
Another few hours and the foot traffic in the little tourist trap town starts to make looking any more, unfeasible. Not that we were going to find anything.
I thought I could call Goodall for help, his response was interesting, but not really helpful, “ Well that is an interesting situation, this will make for very useful data.
I tell you what, let’s say we increase your stipend to 20k, or so, while you and your significant other chase down my property. “
“What if we can’t find it? “ I ask.
“ Retrieving our property isn’t beyond us, but our methods would be costly, I’d guess somewhere in the 200 to 300 thousand range.
I’d hate for you to have that kind of debt hanging over your head. “ I can hear the smirk through the phone.
Even with some money to throw around, it took two weeks for us to get our first lead. No one had any kind of camera footage, but we did manage to find a plate number, and a plausible story.
At first it seemed like it was an insurmountable task, but we quickly figured out that Crow wasn’t the most subtle.
The second thing we figured out, we’ve kept from Nada.
As Kurt and I researched, we thought maybe looking into the events from our home town would give us some insight.
The local news articles, gone, the social media posts, gone, anything beyond what Nada and I have posted, just vanished. It wasn’t even a cover up, it was like something was erasing the evidence of the murders from more than the internet.
Kurt came up with the plan. He bought a couple of dark suits, 2 pairs of dark sunglasses, and flashed his military I. D. Just enough that folks came to their own conclusions when we showed up asking about strange creatures and random disappearances.
I was skeptical, but combining this with the odd bribe gave us all kinds of blurry footage, and barely useable breadcrumbs of information.
We eventually find ourselves in Florida, we have their location, we have their names, and we have snippets of a half dozen blood soaked shit storms that were caused in their general vicinity.
We sit in our car, two blocks away.
“So, what do we do now? “ I say as Kurt looks through a small pair of binoculars.
“ I’m not really sure. I thought it would have just killed them by now, it’s been weeks, but they look fine. Maybe they got rid of it? “ Kurt replies.
“Wouldn’t explain the… Crow things happening around here.” My tone is fearful and a bit confused.
“Fair point, so, how do we play this? “ My husband is worried, this doesn’t happen often.
“I say we just try asking for him back. Either they haven’t noticed what Crow does, of they are being tortured by him and should be glad to get rid of the thing.
But if your asking what if that goes bad for some reason…” I Trail off, hoping Kurt has some pleasant ending to that sentence.
I look to Nada she’s been quiet, not withdrawn, just, sullen really. A sharp edge to her it hurts me to see.
“We defend ourselves, if they want to start a fight over a doll, we can eat a trespassing charge. Better than the alternative, at least. “ Kurt has made up his mind, and mine.
I’m grateful.
I try to put the low resolution clips of Crow pulling people apart like soft shell crab out of my mind as I knock on the door of the expensive, sky blue home. It’s two floors and smack dab in the middle of a cookie cutter suburb surrounded by nearly identical units.
The humid night makes me sweat as much as the anticipation of whatever is on the other side of the door. I picture a murder scene, a dark ritual, Crow adorned with severed body parts and dripping symbols.
I get a bespectacled guy in his early fifties with a smile and a dark green sweater.
The house is a little dim, but at first glance, from what I can see is clean, and horror free. The smell of coffee and fresh baked goods comes from within.
“Dan, Kurt, and, Nada, isn’t it? Crow’s friends, come on in. “ The man turns and waves us to follow.
Kurt and I exchange a glance, but follow.
We pass a small boy, maybe about 9 or 10, he wears large, square medical sunglasses. The dim light from a well used tablet tinting him somewhat blue.
“That’s Peter, my son, we were taking him from a little corrective surgery, then a bit of a celebratory dinner when all the hullabaloo started. Gotta keep things a little shady for another week or so.
I’m Zeke, and the lovely lady at the table with our coffee and the best Carmel chip cookies in South Florida is my wife, Cheryl. “ Zeke says taking a seat at the small oak dining table.
Cheryl pours us all a cup. We sit in silence for a moment or two.
“I bet you are wondering how things are so quiet around here?
Well, me and the family, We’ve always had a close relationship with God. Not that many real evangelicals left around anymore.
I can see why though, we live far from the days where demons were common. And hard to show off the old hunting rifle when you can’t find a buck, right Kurt? “ Zeke smiles, it’s warm, inviting.
“I get where you’re coming from. “ Kurt says with a nod.
I catch Nada in the corner of my eye, she has a sour look and keeps glancing toward Peter.
“But when we got a face to face with your friend, well I had a full clip of the holy spirit and one in the chamber. And for the first time, I got to see the sword of God in action.
Took a minute, but the word of God is seeing us through this trial. “ the man sounds like he’s giving a sermon, he focusses on Kurt, pointing to the clean scars on his face, “ And, no offense intended, but it looks like we’ve been having an easier time of it than you fine folks.
So, we want to relieve you of this burden. We’ve heard the stories of how you’ve been tested, and it’s time your trials are over. You’ve been through more than most could handle. “
“I’d love to take you up on that, but in our case, we have more than just Crow to worry about.
This goes deeper than just a haunted doll. And if I don’t get him back, I’m in heavy debt to a very bad person. “ My reply twists my guts, I want nothing more than to be rid of Crow, and the solution is right here.
For the next couple of hours, we talk. No violence, no supernatural threats, just adults in an overwhelming situation trying to come to some kind of agreement
I wish it wasn’t like this, half a reason and I’d start tearing the place apart looking for the doll. And like it or not, it might come to this anyway, but right now, when this guy is being so reasonable, I just can’t.
It’s been a couple hours and I’m on my fourth cup of coffee, I ask to excuse myself, and am given directions on how to get to the bathroom. As I walk up the stairs a little voice in the back of my mind tells me this would be the perfect time to snoop, steal, and leave.
But I can’t, I can’t bring myself to start giving up all of the little common decencies that make up being a person. I don’t want to become some paranoid, traumatized shell, I want to look back at all of this in ten years and think of it as something we got past, not something that changed us.
I’ll spare you most of the details of the visit to the bathroom, all but one really.
When I enter I hear a small noise, at first I ignore it, but as I do my business it seems too regular, too insistent.
I wash my hands, and start to get a foreboding feeling as I walk down the hallway. It’s hard to pinpoint, but it has to be coming from one of the bedrooms.
I’m holding my breath, wondering if I am losing it as I turn the knob of the room furthest down the hallway.
She’s in her twenties, fully clothed, and tied to a dirty, bloodstained bed.
Her eyes are wild and shocked, her body, broken, cut and mutilated. I break out in a cold sweat, she tries to talk but a grey, crusted rag blocks her mouth.
She has a resemblance to the folks downstairs, how they could do this to her, why they would do this to her, I don’t have time to think about that.
I’m sprinting down the stairs, shouting for Kurt, as I reach the small dining room table, I hear a ‘click’ noise.
Cheryl holds a gun to Kurt’s head, Nada sits lowering at the woman, Zeke looks at me with a pastor’s disappointed glare.
“What in the fuck is going on here? “ I scream, lowering my voice as I see the pistol.
“You wouldn’t understand Dan, see you aren’t a man of God. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made, sometimes family, children even, have to be bound.
When you hear the voice of God Dan, you have to listen. And it’s promised us so much, for so little. “ Zeke stands as he talks, flicking on a lightswitch.
I see it then, good makeup work, more mortician than cosmetician. Layers of foundation, base color and wax, made just passable enough by the expert application and dim lighting.
I follow Nada’s eyes to the couch, Peter sits, glasses off, eyes crudely stitched shut, suppressing a twisted giggle.
Zeke peels a sheet of laytex and wax from his face the right side of his mouth is flensed, dry, yellow teeth and angry looking muscle show through the homebrew surgery.
“Crow is not the voice of God. “ Kurt says, somehow sounding calm, “ It’s more like a bioweapon, it twists your mind if you don’t have some kind of immunity. “
Cheryl pistol whips Kurt, blood streams from the wound in his scalp.
“Blasphemy “ she hisses, I notice her ear is a plucked mass of half healed flesh.
“And so it has always been, the unbeliever acts as the pitfall in the road of the faithful. Peter, retrieve word. “ Zeke demands, the child runs, loping, like a coyote up the stairs in a mad scramble.
I can’t believe the next words out of my mouth. But I don’t have a choice, “Nada, follow him”. I feel sick to my stomach as she does so, without hesitation. For a moment Cheryl looks like she might take the gun off Kurt to fire at Nada, but keeps calm, steel pressed against my husband’s head. I panic, my only thought is fear, these people are out of their mind, almost, possessed.
Kurt though, he doesn’t panic.
He’s up quickly enough that the gun goes out wide, in an instant it’s a struggle for the firearm. Zeke stands back, avoiding the random swing of the barrel. I try to find an opening, but don’t want to do more harm than good.
I count a half dozen times Kurt could have dropped the lady, three more where he could have held her hand and pulled the trigger, but he doesn’t want to hurt her.
She begins to tire, and with a look of exasperation Zeke draws a long, cracked hunting knife.
“Kurt! “ I scream, he sees the threat, and with a grimace drives Cheryl back against a door frame with all of his weight, a rib cracks, Kurt grabs the gun and trains it on the two.
The woman stalks forward with her husband, unfazed by the wound.
“I’ve got this! “ Kurt says, as Zeke takes an almost playful swipe at him with the hunting knife, testing his resolve, “Get Nada”
I turn to do just that, then, I see him.
He looks, thin and ragged, Crow watches the conflict, one shining eye hanging by a thread. He begins to walk toward the standoff.
My husband is facing down two mind warped cult members, my daughter is dealing with God knows what upstairs, as stupid as it is, I do the only task left.
“Hey, Look in a mirror lately? “ I scream, making my way toward Crow, and the stairs.
With a jerking, halting motion Crow turns toward me. Chipped clawed hands flexing and relaxing.
If guessing and bullshitting had a kid, it’d be what I say next.
“This shit is like junk food, isn’t it? You like it, the power and the blood and the fear. But it’s not doing any good for you, is it?
Whatever Goodall has you doing, it’s what you have to do, isn’t it? It’s what keeps you alive, the ritual of it all, the structure. Otherwise you just starve, or fall apart.
I’m right, aren’t I? “ My heart hampers in my chest, but I seem to have captured Crow’s interest.
I’m walking up the stairs still facing the entity.
“Or maybe you don’t know, maybe you’ve been out here slaughtering and brewing up a little cult, wondering what’s happening?” I catch Nada out of the corner of my eye as I try and buy us some time.
The hallway light is flickering, casting the narrow room in a disorienting strobe. Nada is bleeding from some cuts and scratches, her breathing is heavy, she’s hurt.
I see something low and snickering run from one room to the next, Nada winces and grabs her leg, fresh blood running from the shallow wound.
I try to turn, to put myself between her and whatever it is, but in an instant, a clawed hand is in front of my face, blocking my path.
Crow looks down, shaking his head. He sits, motioning for me to do the same.
Before I can ignore the thing, I hear it, I hear, him. “Life or death. Her decision. Use at own risk. “.
I understand what the cryptic voice in my skull wants, and the only thing that makes me listen is the fact it’s owner could bisect me without thinking about it.
The thing darting from room to room, is Peter. As I get a good look in the dim flashes of light, I’m shocked.
His parents may have been tainted, possessed, but this kid, he had been, corrupted.
His body was bent and warped, skin grey, thick and layered. At one point he may have been someone’s child, but now, he was just a container for whatever dark energy Crow leaves in his wake.
I try to yell, to give Nada some advice, but remember another talent of Crow’s. The thing giggles at my frustration, like a hellish laughtrack it echoes in my skull.
Nada is frustrated, she takes useless swings at the thing, but comes no where close.
My heart sinks as I understand what I’m going to have to see, my only child’s death.
Nada gets a look on her face, and stands in between two doorways. Sideways, impossible to miss. She’s given up, and I can’t say I blame her. I feel fears start to form.
The thing slams into Nada, and they hit the ground.
The thing’s ragged yellow nails scratch and tear, but with no momentum, no distance, they leave red lines instead of weeping wounds.
Corrupted, transformed or not, Nada has twenty pounds on the kid, and a lot of height. It’s a schoolyard fight with the ultimate stakes. Awkward punches are thrown, hair is pulled, and for what it’s worth, Nada gives a lot more than she takes.
But that thing that used to be a child, it’s not tiring, and inch by inch, it starts to win the war of attrition being fought by child soldiers.
Nada almost loses balance, then grabs one hand in the other and drives her wrist into the creatures twisted, stitched face.
Bone breaks, the thing screams, I bolt to my feet.
Another blow gives the thing on the floor a mandible fracture that makes it’s face look like an open wound. It’s out, cold.
But Nada keeps going, long past the point where the creature is clearly dead. She priest the Crow doll out of one of the things clutching hands and looks almost shocked as she sees me.
“Dad I… “ she starts, there is a gunshot from downstairs. I sprint, Nada close behind me.
Zeke is on the floor clutching his ear and screaming about being deaf. Cheryl looks confused, like a drunk waking up in a different city.
We leave Zeke and his family picking up the pieces of their encounter with Crow. After seeing, first hand what happens, we all understand, this is our cross to bear, no one else’s.
It was Nada who started the conversation that night. But after a few hours, we all came to the same conclusion she did.
We need to find out what Crow is and how to stop Goodall. This kind of shit can’t keep happening. And whether it kills us or not, we have to be the ones to end this.
But I’m hoping to have a little help from you all, so if you have any clue what Crow could be, or any ideas on things we could do, tell me in the comments. I don’t want to be in this alone.
Link to part 4
https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/s/unafrc29gI