The worst moment a mother could ever imagine is losing their child. However, it’s much worse when you have no explanation as to where they’ve gone.
One day my husband and I decided to go on a motorcycle ride, and naturally leave our fifteen year old daughter home. In any other circumstance I would have said to call one of us if anything happened to her or if she needed anything while we were out. However, there’s no way to answer your phone while on a motorcycle. We were only gone for an hour and a half, maybe two hours, but when we arrived back home my heart sank. At least five police cruisers were outside, two ambulances, and one fire truck. Practically jumping off the back of my husbands bike- I ran to the first officer I saw. This woman looked very distressed and the sentence she said to me when she saw me nearly put me in cardiac arrest.
“You need to check the footage from the cameras in your living room.”
The officers refused to let me inside my house, and instead sat me on my front porch step. I opened my phone, pulling up our security footage. Multiple videos of various lengths had generated within the time I was gone. My husband sat next to me as I clicked on the first video.
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VIDEO I.
My daughter, Marie, was sat on the couch watching something on the television. Everything seemed normal until our ceiling fan light began flashing on and off. The remote was sitting on the coffee table and even if Marie had been messing with it, the lights don’t flash, they fade in and out. The only audio is the television and a very low mumble from Marie, “What the hell?”
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VIDEO II.
Only three minutes later, the light was off and the remote was next to Marie indicating she had switched it off. However, the fan began slowly spinning- then speeding up to mode three which was as high as it could go. When Marie attempted to switch it off- the light began flashing again, only faster.
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VIDEO III.
“Um, hi Damien. I’m home alone right now and some really weird shit is going on- the lights keep flashing and the fan is turning on by itself, can you come over? Thanks.” Marie asked. She was lying on the couch clutching a throw pillow. After she hung up- there was a noise. It was barely audible but we all heard it, a creak of a door. She visibly froze and barley turned her head towards the direction of the sound, but relaxed when she saw nothing there.
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VIDEO IV.
Marie welcomed her friend Damien in the house. Nothing else happens.
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VIDEO V.
Nearly ten minutes later, the fan begins to shake as if someone was jumping upstairs. Six heavy, loud, footsteps are heard and Marie and Damien freeze. A noise I can only assume was the creature begins. It sounds as if a car slammed on the breaks repeatedly and the rubber squeals like a manic villainous laugh. In an instant Damien grabs his phone, dialing what I can only assume was 911. He mentions that they’re home alone and something is in the house with them. When he begins talking the noise stops. The lights go out, blinds pulling down as if someone grabbed them at warp speed. I hear Marie scream in the pitch black and the television turns to static, yet doesn’t illuminate the room. Footsteps slam on the ground and the noise begins again. Everything goes silent. The lights turn on and nothing is there.
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VIDEO VI.
Soon after, Marie and Damien are on the floor in a corner, hiding as best as they can. The lights shut off- and slow, heavy footsteps approach. When the lights return, I am horrified at what I see. A tall, extremely slim, shadowy figure with a long, thin neck, and needle-like fingers is hovering above the two. They scream and the lights switch off. A gurgling scream and a smack sounds out. I hear Marie screaming pleas for her life and a dragging noise before the lights turn on again. Damien is slumped in the corner- throat slit, stained with his own blood. The carpeting has long thin foot prints and a body mark- from that thing and it dragging Marie.
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Instead of watching the rest of the videos I shove past the officers and into my living room. What I didn’t notice in the videos was what was slit into Damien’s throat. The word ‘play’ in child-like handwriting, and underneath it, ‘morte’. Which sends a chill down my spine.
When Marie was six and Damien became her new best friend, her old one was kicked out of her life. However, her old best friend was imaginary. One night she came to me while I was sleeping and woke me up in a frantic state. All she said was, “Mommy he’s going to hurt me.” When I asked her who, she confused me when she replied with “Mort.” Because her best friend hadn’t been around for a while.
Turns out he wasn’t imaginary- and he was pretty pissed when she found a new best friend.