The man turns around. Terrified he might see me, I duck down behind the nearest car. I can’t let him know that I’m following him.
Despite what you might think, I don’t normally follow people. I swear. But Mr. Hunter’s little… routine… was so peculiar. You see, it all started a couple of weeks ago. I had come home late from work when I noticed Mr. Hunter walking out of his front door. This was the first time he had stepped out of his house since Mrs. Hunter died. Which had been months at that point.
Although it was 11 at night, at first I thought it was a good thing that he was finally getting out. It only became weird when it became a habit. The next night he went out at 11pm again. Then the night after that, and the night after that.
Every night Mr. Hunter would leave his home at 11pm sharp. I didn’t want to intrude though, so I left him alone. Until he woke me up at 3am while entering his home.
I tried ignoring it, I really did, but I thought since him leaving at 11pm was a habit, maybe him coming home at 3am was a habit too.
I ended up being right. I stayed up every night until 3am for an entire week to see if he would come home, and like clockwork, he came back at the same time every night. Well, eventually my curiosity got the best of me.
It was the 16th day of watching him. I was extremely sleep deprived and had just gotten fired from my job because of it. I thought, screw it. I’m too tired to continue just guessing, so I may as well get the answers to all of my questions myself. So I did. I followed Mr. Hunter.
That night, when he left, I was ready. I was dressed in black and brought my camera with me.
He passed through multiple streets until he finally stopped at the cemetery. He knelt down in front of his wife’s grave. The immediate guilt I felt for following a grieving man hit me like a truck. I should have never assumed he was doing something bad when clearly, he was just visiting his dead wife.
Then the chanting began. It was some kind of weird, foreign language. Latin maybe. And then It appeared. I say ‘It’ because I couldn’t tell what the hell it was. It was a large, fleshy amalgamation covered in dozens of eyes, teeth and hands. All of the hands had large claws on the ends of them and there were large, grotesque antlers coming out of its head.
I tried to run, but I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move!
Then it started speaking to Mr.Hunter. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it seemed as if the amalgamation was giving him demands.
I stayed there the entire time, unable to hear them or read their lips. Somehow the conversation lasted 3 hours. Then the mound of flesh disappeared and Mr. Hunter started making his way home.
That was last night. Today was different. I swore to myself that I would leave this hellish situation alone, but today, Mr.Hunter left at 10:30pm and he had a large bag with him. That brings us to now, with me hiding behind the car, following Mr. Hunter.
He turns back around and sprints into the cemetery. Still ducking behind miscellaneous objects in the street, I sprint after him. I dive behind a nearby rock as Mr. Hunter kneels down and starts chanting again. Pulling out my camera, the flesh starts to appear. It starts speaking and I can hear it this time.
“Did you bring the items?” Its voice is raspy. Almost as if a scratching record and nails on a chalkboard were combined into one sound.
“Yes,” Mr.Hunter dumps the contents of his bag in front of the amalgamation.
“Good. You made sure you weren’t followed, correct?”
“I made sure I wasn’t followed.”
“Very good. You know what will happen if you are lying. Now, let us begin. I know how excited you are to bring your wife back.”
The air gets caught in my throat and a small whimper escapes my mouth. The flesh’s head snaps in my direction. It slithers its way towards me. My eyes snap shut and I hold my breath so as to not be heard. All of a sudden, a slimy hand grabs my neck and I am jerked into the air.
“Who are you?! What are your intentions,” Its hisses. Its grasp on my neck is so tight. “I work for Hunter,” I manage to get out between labored breaths.
A blatant lie that I pray he can’t detect. It glares at Mr. Hunter
“YOU LIAR!”
I land with a thud as It drops me and turns towards Mr. Hunter. Everything hurts. I glance over at the two.
The amalgamation’s body has split open, revealing thousands of sharp canines and long, slithering tongues.
I quickly scramble up and feel my feet pounding on the pavement. I don’t want to know what happens next and I don’t want it to happen to me.
Adrenaline carries me all the way home. I slam the door and lock everything, and just to be safe, I grab a knife and hide under the bed. I don’t know what I saw or how he got there, but one thing’s for certain, there is no way Mr. Hunter could have made it out alive.