Hello, it’s me again.
I meant to update last week, but I’ve been busy. Again, changing names for everyone involved. Some might be different, I’m having trouble reading through the last post because of how paranoid I’ve sounded. It’s been about two weeks since the incident, but that was a traumatic day, all things considered. Thanks for the reception on my last post, I really do appreciate most people did seem to believe me, as unbelievable as this was.
For context: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/v8kaz7/my_neighbor_is_not_human/
I did not end up quitting my job, I know this is the part where you die in horror movies. In all honesty, I’m too lazy to look for another job, and more evidence is showing that that fucking guy was probably not just stalking me around the store. Everyone in my personal life has noticed I’ve been a lot more paranoid lately.
This story ended up being too much of a hassle for any news stations to take coverage, even in our small town. The situation is still ongoing and I’m guessing that everyone else involved in this has told them to back off. There’s far too many unknowns here, I’m guessing.
Mr. Simmons has been making sure at least two people take up night shift so that if anything like that happens again, we’ll at least be accounted for. It’s not a chain store, so he’s able to talk more to the employee’s here and is very understanding. He had to shut down the store for a few days so the cops could get all they needed, he took care of most of this for me, insisted on it actually. I’m not complaining, the most I can get off my hands the better.
I’ve been called in for questioning about the man, let’s call him Jack for now (because that’s a pretty generic serial killer name). As of now, everyone involved believes he left town to go fuck with someone else. They got detectives and shit involved, obviously I can’t tell them the truth. How would that even go? “Hey Mr. Detective sir, my neighbor, the frail old lady, yes the unassuming one, fucking turned him to dust.” That’s a quick way to be a suspected killer, not like anyone would blame me. Hell, I don’t like wishing death upon people, but it was either me or him.
It wouldn’t help me either to tell the truth, and I don’t want Mrs. Hodges to be taken into some secret site to be experimented on.
Actually, the only person I can confide in is Mrs. Hodges, she’s been extremely pleasant throughout. If I did I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful in the last post, I’m incredibly grateful, actually. She’s aware of the post I made, but she doesn’t really care. She doesn’t like the internet much and stays off it. She was a little annoyed I didn’t ask her before, but that’s reasonable. She also said something about TV being a more honest way of entertainment, whatever that means.
With my unique opportunity I decided to ask her a few more questions, and with her permission I’m posting them on here. As usual, she was really calm when talking to me, for her it was more of a way to catch up with some embroidery. Some of the wording is probably off, I don’t have the best memory.
I decided to start out small. “How do you know that Jesus was one of you, if it’s been so long that no living person knows what happened?”
“Like you, stories were passed down to me from my family. Growing up, I learned them differently than you would’ve, it’s almost as much of a legend to us as it is to your kind.”
“What powers do you, or just your kind in general have?” It was the main question I had, it kept me up at night.
She winked before answering. “Sweetie, a magician never tells you her tricks.”
I was unsatisfied with that answer, but I went on without asking for any more clarification. “If there was one of you, that was evil, would I know about it?”
She sighed. “Josh, I know you’re a smart young man, good and evil are far too broad of terms.”
“Okay, well if one of you were, evil, for lack of a better word, would I know?” I really needed to know, this kept me up the most.
“I don’t know, people are both, not just one. If one of us committed evil acts I’m sure that none of the press would give you the details of who or what they were.” She answered, I felt no need to ask for clarification, I wasn’t sure how invasive that would be.
The last question I remember asking was, “How many of you are there?”
She paused her sewing before answering me, a mournful look on her face. “Many of us were wiped out during the witch trials, obviously, I don’t remember that. I wasn’t born yet. Many humans were also killed during them, I’m sure other beings were as well, but I don’t know much about it.”
Her answer made me feel guilty, how different was I from the persecutors if I was as afraid as they seemed to be? What really separated me from a person afraid of witches except for the time period?
After that we talked for a while longer. Mostly about mundane stuff. For the most part, everything has gone back to normal. A couple of days after the incident was trash day, so there went all the evidence of Jack. Good riddance.
There are many more unknowns that I, hell, I’m sure no one knows about. The paranormal is everywhere. From Mrs. Hodges to hauntings, to creatures of the night, no one person could know all of it. Maybe we’re terrifying to them as much as they terrify us.
There’s no way of knowing and I’m guessing there never will be for as long as I live for.