I never thought any harm could happen to me. Not because I feel superior to others, but in my town, Brookwood, nothing bad ever happened. You rarely heard of accidents, and homicides or robbery were unheard of. But now, I’ve received PTSD and therapy from an incident in my very own hometown.
Four years ago, I was 23. I played baseball every Saturday, and my life was good. I had bought a dog about eight months prior, a Doberman, her name being Athena. I lived in a house that my late grandparents had left to me. As a child, I never liked staying with my grandparents for even one night, as wildlife seemed to be very active at night.
Eventually I grew out of my fear, assuming that nocturnal animals approached the lake a few hundred meters from our house. Suddenly, one night the noise stopped. Not even a cricket could be heard. Out of nowhere, my eardrums shattered. Hundreds of animal noises could be heard all at once.
I went to investigate the noise after it stopped, but there was nothing. No animals, no sounds. I couldn’t see any rustling in the grass, or any animals chirping in trees. Athena was all that remained, trying to comfort my uneasiness.
Athena has separation anxiety, and appears depressed on any cameras after I leave for work. One day, I beckoned her inside from the backyard. She ran in, and ran upstairs. I paid no attention and left for work.
I checked my home cameras to see how Athena was holding up, but I noticed her laying down next to the door in my room. Eventually, the door closed, locking her in my room. I sighed and reminded myself to open my room door when I arrived home. However, when I came back from my uneventful day at work, I was greeted by my dog.
I was confused. Very confused. I greeted Athena with a skeptical tone in my voice. She seemed to notice this. I checked my phone to see if she was still in my room. She was. Athena seemed to notice this.
I baby-talked her and went upstairs to see if possibly the camera was delayed, and Athena somehow managed to open the door herself. She did not. I opened my door, and Athena greeted me.
I walked to my bedside and grabbed a baseball bat from my equipment bad. I looked downstairs. Athena was not there. I stayed as quiet as possible, discarding my shoes to make less noise. Upon hearing a scuttling, I looked towards the noise. The dog was climbing up a wall. I rushed into my room, and locked the door.
I rushed to my phone to call the police. Upon dialing 9-1-1, I heard a bashing against my door. I heard more, and started hearing splintering. The dog was breaking down my door.
I dialed the number and talked to the operator. I was told to stay calm, and that they would call animal control. My door kept splintering. Eventually, I could see through the door. This thing was no dog. It wasn’t human, it wasn’t animal, it was just a thing.
The thing had long limbs, and a deformed face. It had huge chunks of flesh missing where its ears used to be, and a completely removed nose. It looked pale, as if there was no longer any blood in it. All of its fur was shedding off instantaneously, as if it was shedding on command. No baseball bat could take the thing down.
I rushed to my bedside drawer. 3 months ago, I got a license to carry firearms. I bought myself a Mark XIX Desert Eagle to use in shooting ranges, just for fun. I thought this would save my life. I was wrong.
The thing broke through the door, and stared me down for a few second. It started moving towards me, and I fired. I had used one magazine. It was still standing. Two magazines. It still stood. Three magazines. It stayed strong.
The thing leaped at me, and I realized my inevitable death. Until my dog came in. My dog jumped at the creature, tearing into its flesh. The creature was dead in a matter of seconds.
Animal control arrived, finding me stunned on the ground, my dog comforting me, and an alien corpse in the middle of the room. They took the corpse back, informing me that they would get back to me with what the thing was.
When they reached out to me, they informed me that it had no signs of life. It had no cells, nor DNA. It was as if it had turned into a hyper-realistic, flexible statue. I didn’t care for the information though. What I did care for was seeking therapy.
I ended up with PTSD from the event, and a large dependence on my dog. Even four years after the event, I still have nightmares about it sometimes. Sometimes I hear the hissing sounds the creature made right behind me. However, whenever these happen, I always have my dog to rely on.