My life feels turned upside down. This all just happened and I’m still shaken but I will try and write it down as best as I can. Here goes nothing…
My grandfather used to be a writer. I’m not sure I managed to pick up a good knack for it, but I tried and still am. He wrote a lot of books in his time publishing them but never got much fame. One book in particular he wrote was horror-themed. It had a total of roughly ten short stories. I had always seen it up in my parent’s attic room, tucked away neatly on a shelf gathering dust. It had been there long before I was born and would probably have been there years longer had I not had the stupid idea to open it…
The day started like any other when I got the phone call from my older brother that our parents had been involved in a car accident and killed on the scene. I remember everything going numb and the world losing focus as the phone dropped from my hand. I was living in New York City at the time, trying to make a name for myself as a writer, so I had to take a flight back home to the small town of Harrisonville, Tennessee. The next few weeks were a blur with planning the funeral and hearing the constant “sorry for your loss” from those in attendance.
After the funeral, our family and friends gathered at my parent’s house to revisit old times and grieve together. I remember being present but not talking to anyone. This was the first significant loss I had to deal with, and I wasn’t processing it very well at the time. I had never been close to my grandparents, as they had passed away before I was old enough to know who they were, so losing my parents was a huge hit to me. I tried my best to speak to people and thank them for showing up.
As the night dragged on, more and more people started to take their leave heading home as it was starting to get late. I told my brother I would stay in the house for the next few weeks until things were settled with the home, as he and his family would inherit the home through the will. He agreed, and he and his family filtered out the door with the last of the guests, saying their goodbyes. I settled into a chair in the living room and quickly fell into a deep sleep, unaware of how tired I had truly been the past few weeks with the lack of sleep helping with all the funeral arrangements.
I awoke to the sound of knocking on the door. Jolting awake, I checked my phone and saw the time, 7:49 am. I thought to myself, who could possibly be at the door this early I stood up and readjusted my shirt and suit pants as I had fallen asleep in what I was wearing the night before. Stumbling my way to the door in a tired stupor, I peeked through the window next to it, checking who it was. I saw it was just a delivery driver dropping off a package at the front door.
Opening the door, I checked the name on the package. Hannah Peterson was the name on the package, my mother. As I picked up the package, I observed the weight and size. It felt light and was relatively small. I took the package inside, set it down on the table, and went into the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors. I cut the package open, and a book fell out. My book. It was a copy of one of the books I had written while living in New York.
A few tears fell from my eyes after seeing this, and I picked up the book, both happy she planned on reading it and simultaneously sad that she would never get the chance to. I took the book up the stairs towards the entrance to the attic to add it to the shelf of books my family had collected for years. It was unofficially known as the shelf for forgotten books by my brother and me. Pulling the small rope from the ceiling, the stairs dropped down, revealing the beams in the roof of the dusty old basement above.
Climbing the stairs, I took out my phone light to help me see a little bit better as I made my way to the window next to the bookshelf pulling the curtains open and letting the early morning sunlight flood through the window into the room. I coughed as a cloud of dust was picked up from the curtains into the air. Clearly, my parents hadn’t been in the attic for a while. I took a few steps back as I was coughing, accidentally bumping into the shelf behind me. I heard a loud thud as something heavy hit the floor.
Turning around, I set down the book I was holding and checked what book I had dropped from the shelf. It turned out the be my grandfather’s old storybook. The one I had never dared to touch growing up because of the ancient family history behind it. I won’t get into that too much. It is kind of boring stuff, just a superstitious that reading old books that never made it into the public eye is bad luck or something like that—just an old superstition in the family. My hand trembled a little as I picked the old leather-bound book up off the floor and placed it back on the shelf.
Just as I had lifted it off the ground, something small and off-white fell out of the book’s pages—a note. I carefully set the book back onto the shelf. I reached down and picked up the message unfolding it softly. I recognized my grandfather’s handwriting immediately.
“To whomever, this may concern. I believe I have written the greatest book in history, but something is wrong. I don’t feel right sharing this book with the world. I think it best that it stays here. I discovered something… Something not… Normal… I can’t quite explain it here in this little not, but if you are reading this, DO NOT READ THIS BOOK. I am begging you. It…”
The letter abruptly stopped; it looked like it had been burned a bit, the darkened corner of the paper hiding the last words of that letter forever. “Damn,” I mumbled to myself, folding the letter back and placing it carefully in my pocket. What could he be talking about? I thought to myself. I contemplated what the letter could mean for a few minutes and decided to figure it out. I mean, what could go wrong from just reading a book?
I grabbed the old book back off the shelf and headed for the exit for the attic, intending to read it tonight in the living room before bed.
The day flew by, the anticipation of reading the book weighing heavily on my mind all day. As night fell and the clock read 10:13 p.m. I sat on the couch with a cup of tea and picked up the old book feeling the coarse leather in my hands before finally cracking open the book to the first page. The title page read, “Short Horror by Alfred Peterson.” My grandfather. There was a table of contents saying the title of each story and what page to turn to for that story. I thumbed through them, finding one I thought sounded interesting.
My finger stopped on a story titled “It Comes with the Moon.” That sounds spooky enough; I thought as I flipped to page 32 in the book for that specific story. The illustration on the title page for that chapter was a dark black page with two glowing red eyes placed into a tree line.
I started reading without delay flipping to the first page, but I felt a strange feeling come over me as I did. My eyes drooped, and the words on the page, as crazy as it sounds, started to swirl, and almost dance before the page, and my vision turned black completely.
I opened my eyes slowly as they adjusted to the darkness of wherever I was in. My eyes quickly adjusted, and I realized I was sitting in a room, but not my parents living room anymore. This place looked much older than that. I reached into my pockets, feeling for my phone, and quickly realized two things my phone was nowhere to be found, and I wasn’t wearing the same clothes as I was before. They were old medieval-style pants and a loose-fitting shirt with leather-bound shoes. The book I had been reading was nowhere to be found.
What the hell was going on? I thought to myself, and then I began to scan the room for anything that could help me figure out this whole insane situation. This had to be a dream. No way any of this was happening. I was trying to rationalize what was going on. Maybe I drank too much caffeine today, and this is all just a crazy vivid dream.
I pinched myself hard on the arm, yelling out loud, “wake up, wake up, wake up!!” Unfortunately, this did not work, and my arm just hurt afterward. What now? I thought as my eye began to scan the room again. The house was almost identical to my parent’s home, just much older.
Candles burned brightly on different tables and wall fixtures in the house, giving off a warm orange/yellow glow throughout the house. I sprinted over to the front door and flung it open, hoping to find anything that could help me get out of here. When I did, I saw a massive expanse of a dark forest lit only by the full moon above. It seemed like it went on forever.
Stepping outside onto the porch, my eyes widened at the sight. How is any of this possible? I took a few more steps down the stairs and onto the dirt path leading into the forest. Suddenly the door behind me closed with a loud crash, causing me to jump out of my skin. I spun around quickly and saw that I was now alone in a grass field surrounded by trees. The house was now gone.
The realization of the events hit me like a ton of bricks, and I doubled over dry, heaving, and hyperventilating. I dropped to a knee and tried to regain my composure when suddenly a thunderous howl broke the silence of the night. What the hell was that? I thought, spinning around and looking into the dark woods and beyond in all directions. I started hearing the sounds of limbs breaking and twigs snapping in the woods as if something was running full steam in my direction.
I searched for somewhere to hide or take cover and saw a large tree big enough for me to hide behind on the opposite end of the clearing from the noise. Sprinting over, I dropped down, tucking my knees to my chest, making myself as small as possible behind the tree. I was practically having a panic attack and was desperately trying to slow my breathing and calm myself down, having no idea what could be making its way in my direction.
I heard the noises suddenly the stop, and the forest fell utterly silent. Not even the sound of wind blowing through the trees could be heard. I was terrified and trembling as I sat behind the tree and waited for what felt like hours. I slowly peeked around the tree after a while checking to see if whatever it was had left. I glanced around the tree, and I caught a glimpse of a large shadowy shape, seemingly sniffing at the ground where I had just been minutes ago. It slowly turned its head toward my direction and then rose onto two feet.
As it stood, I finally got a better look at the creature. It was massive in size; from this distance, it looked like a large wolf but standing on two legs and reaching a height of at least 7ft tall. It raised its head to the sky and let out the most horrifying howl I’d ever heard. The sound was so loud that I had to cover my ears quickly and hide behind the tree again.
I knew I had to act fast because no doubt it would be coming my way soon. I got the bright idea to search the forest floor for some small rock to throw or anything. To distract the beast or wolf, whatever it was, from what I could only assume was to try and kill me. My hand trembled slightly as I grasped a small rock from the ground. I raised my hand and threw it as hard as possible without thinking. The rock flew and smacked against a tree in the distance with a loud clatter. The forest’s silence was probably attributed to how loud it sounded as it echoed through the woods. I turned to look from behind the tree and saw the wolf’s head snap in the direction of the sound.
This was my chance. I thought as I stood shakily to my feet. I can get the hell out of here. Not even sure what to do or where to go, I waited a few seconds until I heard the wolf heading toward the rock I had thrown and took off in a dash as quietly as possible for the dirt path I had seen earlier leading into the forest. As I reached it, I collected myself slowing my breathing, stepped off the track slightly into the tree line, and crouched down. The only way I would make it out of this was to be slow and quiet.
Hours dragged by as I made my way along the side of the path that turned and twisted through the forest. Sounds of the beast moving through the forest rang out, occasionally alerting me to his presence, at which point I would stop and wait until it was quiet again before proceeding. I suddenly broke into another clearing where the path ended abruptly. A small cabin was seated in the clearing with a warm fire burning inside. Smoke trailed into the sky from the chimney.
There is no way I am going in that. I thought as I crept closer to the edge of the tree line to get a better look. I could make out the faint shape of a shadow move across one of the window curtains. It looked humanoid. Another howl rang out into the night nearby, and I decided against my better judgment to head for the cabin hoping that whoever was inside could help me get out of this place.
As I quietly approached, I hesitantly knocked on the door, not knowing what to expect. What if I die? What if it is a trap? When the door swung open suddenly, the warm light flooded out into the night.
“The hell do you want?” A large man in similarly old-looking clothes stood at the cabin door wielding a shotgun pointed straight at my head. I instinctively raised my hands to show I wasn’t a threat.
“Calm down, their man. I need help. I had no idea how I got here, and there is something in these woods. I just need to get home.” I said quickly, giving a half-hearted smile.
He looked me up and down for a moment, considering what I had to say, before lowering the shotgun to the ground and gesturing for me to come inside. I quickly moved into the cabin without question. He led me into what I assumed was the living room and told me to sit in the chair next to the fireplace. He left for a moment before into a separate room before coming back into the room with a cup. Handing it to me, I looked to see what the container’s contents were, eyeing it suspiciously.
“It’s just water.” The man said in a gruff voice.
Without hesitation, I drank the entirety of the cup, not realizing how thirsty I had been.
“What the hell are you doing wandering the woods at this time of night on a full moon, no less?” The man asked with a suspicious look on his face.
“I don’t know myself. I just woke up in a clearing and tried to find my way out of here. What is that… Thing in the woods?” I asked, putting particular emphasis on the word “thing.”
He paused for a moment as if considering how to answer my question.
“That thing out there is called the Beast of Villindal. It has been here since long before us folks that live in these parts and will probably be here long after. Many have tried to kill it, and all have failed. It keeps to itself mostly, but it doesn’t take too kindly to people wandering around in the forest at night. That’s when it likes to hunt, and it seems you’re his prey. Now, where exactly are you headed, son?”
Before answering, I thought about what he said for a moment. Villindal? Where the hell was that on the map. I’d never heard of anywhere like that. I saw him watching me closely as I thought this all over. I finally decided to answer him.
“I’m trying to find my way home, that’s all.”
My head felt fuzzy, and my eyes became heavy as I said this.
“What the…” I started to say before collapsing onto the floor.
When I awoke, I tried to move but felt the rope around my hands and feet. That old bastard had drugged me. I was sitting in a wooden chair in a dark room lit by only a few candles, and from what I could tell, it looked like a basement of some sort. The old man was nowhere in sight. I tried to move again, struggling against the bonds but wasn’t getting anywhere. I cursed myself for not trusting my gut when I saw the cabin.
I began searching for some way to get out of the situation. I wiggled against the rope with each limb searching for some sort of weakness I could exploit to break out, and by some miracle, I found it. The left leg of the chair was loose. Using all the strength I could muster, I pulled as hard as I could on my left leg, trying to get the already loose chair leg off. I grunted and pushed with all my might, and to my surprise, the chair leg came free. Barely catching myself, I managed to hold myself up with my now mostly free leg.
I hopped on the single leg and stood up completely, and with all my might, I threw myself back, kicking off with my free leg, and fell into the wall behind me with a crash. The chair came apart, letting my hands and another leg free. I managed to untie the ropes around my hands and legs in a hurry. I heard loud footfalls coming from above me; the wood creaked under the weight of whoever was above moving across the house. I listened to the footsteps stop at a doorway up a set of stairs leading out of the basement.
I grabbed a piece of wood from the floor from the broken chair a sharp piece and quickly hid out of sight. When the old man came into view, he was cursing and franticly looking around for me.
“Where did you go?” He said aloud, waving the shotgun he brandished like a mad man. “You won’t get far, kid; that beast is gonna get ya, or I will. There ain’t much meat around anymore with that thing killing everything. So, it is between him or me, and I can promise you a nice quick death, kid.” He chuckled at the last part.
I quickly rushed out from my hiding place; surprise etched across the old man’s face as I swung the piece of wood with all my might, aiming for it to stab into the man’s throat. It went in with ease, but not before getting off a single shot from the shotgun. I felt white-hot pain sear through my leg, but I kept driving the wood further into the man’s throat. Survival instincts taking over and adrenaline coursing through my whole body, I rolled off the old man’s body and snatched up his shotgun. I tore up the stairs running as fast as I could. My leg was bleeding profusely, but I couldn’t feel the pain at the moment which helped drive me forwards.
I needed to get out of here and fast. I burst out the cabin’s front door and made a beeline for the forest. I ran as far as possible before collapsing against the forest floor, exhausted and breathing heavily. Using the shotgun, I pulled myself to my feet and used the weapon as a crunch to keep moving. The pain in my leg was starting to flare up, and the aches and bruises I had received from slamming myself into the wall earlier were too as the adrenaline wore off.
I pushed on as fast as my body would allow me, but I didn’t think I would be able to make it much further. The sound of limbs, twigs cracking, and leaves rustling indicated that the beast was closing in on me finally. This was it, I thought to myself. I stopped trying to run and dropped to the ground. I crawled to the nearest tree leaning my back against it and checked the shotgun. It was a double-barrel with only one shot left. I heard the beast approaching swiftly and knew it would be over soon.
I raised the shotgun in the direction of the sounds and waited, prepared to fight until my last breath. I wanted to make it home, but at this point, I wasn’t sure if that was even possible anymore. I shouldn’t have read that book; I thought just as I saw the enormous figure of the wolf burst through the trees into my view.
It stopped a few feet from me before rising onto two legs again as I saw it do in the clearing. Its entire body is in my view directly in front of me now. It was larger than before and covered in dark shaggy hair. It had arms like a man with fingers, but they were tipped with long, razor-sharp claws. It stood, mouth slightly open, drool and spittle falling from its mouth as it eyed me. Those bright… Red… Eyes… I will never forget those eyes.
It threw its head back, looking at the moon, and let out an ear-piercing howl. I nearly dropped the shotgun to cover my ears, but I held steady, slightly trembling as I aimed at the creature. I squeezed the trigger, and a loud bang rang out into the forest. The creature stumbled back a few steps; a small amount of blood trickled from the wounds, but it almost looked as if it were nearly unharmed. It stood back up and glared at me with such hatred. I just dropped the shotgun and prepared to accept my fate.
It raised its clawed hand high into the air as it moved closer to me. I could smell its rotten breath as it drew closer. When it was within inches of me, it swung down at my head. I squeezed my eyes shut and prepared for the pain and death, but just as the claws were about to land their killing blow, my eyes shot open again.
I nearly fell out of the chair I was in. It took me a moment to gather my surroundings, but I was back in my parent’s house again. My body was aching all over, and it felt like I had just run a marathon. I struggled to my feet and then immediately ran to the bathroom; as I reached it, I tore the door open and flicked on the lights illuminating the room and myself in front of the mirror. I jumped at the reflection of the giant wolf standing behind me, glaring down at me with murderous intent. I spun around and saw just the standard bathroom wallpaper that had always been there, and when I turned back around, it was just myself standing in front of the mirror again.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I checked myself all over and saw no signs of the injuries I had sustained wherever I was before. I made my way back to the chair in the living room, where the book lay open on the story I had just read. When I got closer, I saw the pages were now stained blood red and the writing no longer legible. Suddenly the window flew open next to the chair, and a strong breeze blew leaves into the house simultaneously, slamming the book closed.
I rushed to the window and slammed it shut, looking out into the night. A full moon shone brightly above the sky, illuminating the neighborhood in a dull white glow. So now here I sit typing this story, hoping that someone out there will listen. I know it sounds crazy, but I think I might try and read another story… Am I going insane?