Learning your relative was found dead is heartbreaking.
Learning your relative had committed suicide is even worse.
Tragically, that’s the reality I found myself in when my older brother Edward was found dead at my family’s ranch late last month. The police found him in the master bedroom; a gaping hole in his right temple; a .22 on the floor by his right foot. With the three ranch hands all away for the holidays, and no sign of either forced entry or a struggle, his death was officially deemed a suicide.
Edward and I hadn’t spoken much, let alone seen each other, during the five years after I left Reno for Harrisburg. But despite our distant relationship, it was still heartbreaking to find out my brother had died, especially by his own hand. I flew back to Reno to officiate the memorial service, where we scattered his ashes in Yosemite National Park.
With Edward dead and my parents long dead, the ranch was now my estate. After scattering the ashes, I arrived back at the ranch with my family’s longtime ranch hand, Troy, who was the last person to see Edward alive.
“I knew something was off about him,” Troy tearfully told me as we arrived back from scattering the ashes. “I could tell in his voice. God, why didn’t I trust my gut?”
“There’s nothing you can have done, Troy,” I responded. “You can’t blame yourself for it.
“I know, but it’s a decision I’ll forever live with,” he said.
“I understand,” I said. “But as I said at the service, Edward would want all of us to continue living by preserving his memory. We can at least do that for him, right?”
Troy was a very emotional guy. Still is, to be a matter of fact. Having worked for my dad, Pops, and then later Edward for over 25 years, he viewed Edward and I as his nephews. He really only cared about two things: the ranch and ourselves.
It’s why when Edward started acting erratically that Troy became very worried he was experiencing some form of schizophrenia.
“He said he could see this…creature…all over the premises,” Troy said. “He started seeing them in October, but they seemed to ramp up as I and the others began to prepare for our month off. I tried getting him to see a therapist or someone to help him, but he was afraid he would be locked up if he did so.”
“What did he tell you he saw?”
“A bloodied lady,” he said. “She would always be in the fields at night. I had Marcus and Jack watch over the premises for multiple nights, and they never could find anything. That’s when it became apparent that what he was seeing was all mental.”
“Jesus Christ,” I said. “I don’t think my family has a history of mental illness.”
“Your dad never reported to me something of similar substance,” Troy said.
“Yeah,” I said. “Why did Edward think getting locked up would be the worst thing to happen? I mean, at least he would have gotten help, right?”
“He was afraid the Van Pelts would finally have enough ammo in order to rip the ranch’s ownership out from his hands.”
“Who are the Van Pelts?” I asked.
“They are the family that owns the ranch neighboring us. They bought the property from Clay back in 2019. They’ve been trying to buy all the land so they can expand their crop fields, but Edward never budged despite what they offered. Edward was convinced, though, that if he were committed, they would be able to take the land without his permission.”
“How would they even be able to do that?” I then asked.
“They wouldn’t be able to,” Troy said. “I explained that to him numerous times, but he still didn’t listen to me. God, he was so troubled.”
That night, I thought a lot about Edward and his mental state in what was his final two and a half months alive. He clearly was suffering from mental illness, but why did he think the ranch would be stripped from him if he was committed? There was no legal way that was possible. My only logical assumption was the same as Troy’s: his brain was so fried from the mental illness that his cognitive abilities were too damaged to be fixed without professional help; professional help he didn’t want.
The thing that scared me the most was the image of that lady. Troy said Edward had managed to get a very detailed description of her: a tall, lanky woman; with wet, matted hair; jet black eyes; long, sharp fingernails; a mouth with no lips; cracked, rotted teeth; and her whole body completely covered in blood. It sounded like something only found in the deepest pits of the worst nightmare imaginable.
I had a hard time sleeping because of it. I could only hope Edward was finally free of his pain in the afterlife.
After two days of mostly recovering and getting things situated, Troy and I began to gameplan how to move forward with the ranch. It took some negotiations on my end, but we finally reached an agreement: I would still own the land, but Troy would act as overseer and hire his own ranch hands to run the business. In terms of profits, Troy and the ranch hands would earn 90% of the money made; while I would retain 10%. Marcus and Jack, the other ranch hands, would return in four weeks after the winter season was coming to a close, and Troy would be allowed to hire any other employees he felt were necessary. I trusted Troy with my life as a child, and after everything he’d done for my family, I felt he was finally due for a chance at running his own ranch.
Troy and I decided to celebrate the future of the Thomspon ranch that night over pizza and beer. We spent most of the night reminiscing about the past and all the crazy shenanigans me and Edward caused as kids. But our celebration only lasted about 30 minutes before we got a knock at the door.
“I swear to God if it’s him,” Troy said.
“Who?” I asked.
“Robert, the patriarch of the Van Pelt family,” Troy said as he went up to the peephole. Upon sticking his eye up to the hole, I could hear him sigh under his breath before he muttered, “Goddamnit.”
“Just don’t answer it,” I said.
“He ain’t gonna leave until we talk to him,” Troy said.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I responded as I got up from the chair and yanked the door open myself.
Standing in front of me was a very large, muscular man. He had to be at least 60 but his body was chiseled from head to toe.
“What?” I asked rather bluntly, even though his physique did intimidate me a bit.
“Uhh…who are you?” he asked me, his country accent so strong I could feel it sting the back of my throat.
“I’m Ben, Edward’s younger brother,” I said. “You must be this Van Pelt guy.”
“Err…yes, yes, I am,” he said. “I…I didn’t know he had a brother.”
“I told you numerous times he did,” Troy then said from behind me, to which Robert looked over my shoulder before smiling.
“Troy, good to see you,” Robert then said. “It’s been a few since we last saw one another.” He then turned back to me. “Do you mind if I come in to talk to you, Ben?”
I didn’t want to, but social niceties were unfortunately always a strong suit for me (thanks in large part due to my job being in PR relations), so I said yes. Troy subtlety shook his head at my answer but didn’t say anything as Robert stomped his way inside.
“What is it?” I then asked.
“Well, first, the entire Van Pelt family sends their condolences to you,” he said. “Unfortunately, we couldn’t come to the memorial service due to previous obligations with family. However, Edward was a fine man who was taken far too soon, and we are terribly sorry for your loss.
“Thank you,” I told him.
“But…with that being said,” he then continued, “I was curious to see what you would do with the property now.”
“Here we go again,” Troy whispered loud enough for me to hear, but Robert, perhaps due to his age, didn’t even react to it.
“Robert, my brother was found dead not too long ago,” I said. “You really think I have thought about what I am going to do with my ranch?” Robert, of course, had no idea that Troy and I had already reached an agreement, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
“I understand,” he said. “But before his passing, I had been in negotiations with Edward regarding purchasing the land. We have wanted to expand our farm since moving here and we would give you and your family a very lucrative sum to acquire it.”
I put my beer onto the table before crossing my arms and looking at Robert sternly.
“First off, my family is dead. I am the only Thompson left,” I responded. “And secondly, from what Troy told me prior to Edward’s death, Edward had no interest in selling the land, let alone to you. I didn’t speak to my brother much before he died, but knowing him, he wouldn’t have completely disregarded my parents’ creation like that. Honestly, the fact that I even need to have this conversation with you right now is outright appalling.”
I finally decided to say enough with social niceties and basically told Robert to fuck off and to leave my property immediately, which he did without much of a fuss. After we shut the door, Troy let out a chuckle.
“What a heartless bastard,” he said.
“Heartless is putting it lightly,” I responded. “Did he actually have negotiations with Edward prior to Edward’s death?”
“To my knowledge, no,” Troy said. “Unless it was during the holiday off period.”
The next night, I was up late at night watching TV. Troy was already back at the guest house to go to sleep. At around 11:20 p.m., I got another knock at the door. The knock startled me at first, but I slowly got up and checked through the peephole. I looked to see a young girl, perhaps no older than 18, standing on the front porch. Knowing it was probably trouble, I attempted to return to my seat, but when I took a step back, I heard a voice come from behind the door.
“Ben, I know you’re in there,” the girl said. “I could see the light through the peephole change.”
“Shit,” I thought. I didn’t want to, but feeling confident in my abilities to fight back if things escalated, I opened the door.
“Yes?” I said rather annoyingly.
“Hey,” she said. “My name is Josey. I’m Robert’s daughter.”
“Okay,” I said. “What do you want?”
“I’m sorry for how late this is, but my dad felt it was important to bring it up now before he changes his mind,” she then said. “He wants to make his most lucrative offer yet for your family’s land.
“Josey, I already told Robert that I am not taking a deal,” I told her. “And I must say, it is rather sad that he had to send you here. He couldn’t even come talk to me in person.”
Josey just shook her head in annoyance.
“Listen, it’s a large offer,” she said. “I know you want to hear it.”
“Oh, please enlighten me,” I said sarcastically.
I won’t give the exact amount, but what she offered was about three times the actual price of the land would be. It was very, very tempting; but the voice in my head told me to do the right thing.
“I’m sorry, but it’s not for sale right now,” I told her.
“You are so stubborn,” she said. “This ranch is a total dump and you, a preppy city boy, don’t want to let it go.”
“Goodnight, Josey,” I said before slamming the door in her face.
I went back to watching TV, but after a few minutes, I felt like I was being watched. I looked out the window, and I saw something that sent a small chill down my spine.
Josey was standing in the middle of the closest field, staring directly at the ranch. Or more specifically, she was staring at me. Her eyes practically burned holes into my forehead. It was the most cold, empty stare I had ever seen. I immediately shut the blinds and went back to the couch.
But even after 20 minutes, I couldn’t get the image of Josey out of my head. I got up and approached the window. I slowly gripped the drawstring and built up the courage to open it up. With one swift movement, I pulled the string down as moonlight seeped into the dark den.
The fields were empty.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I reclosed the blinds and turned back toward the couch. That’s when I nearly had a fucking heart attack.
Josey was staring at me through the window directly opposite the one I had just viewed out of. But this time, her face was pressed up against the glass. Her eyes, with the most blank look apparent behind her irises, were opened as wide as possible; and her mouth was contorted into a twisted grin. It was one of the most disturbing things I had ever seen in my life.
I bolted out of the room and upstairs to the master bedroom, where my phone was resting on a charging port. I immediately dialed 911 and explained what was going on. The operator was rather reluctant to send someone out but she agreed to send an officer. It took him some time to arrive, but by the time he did, Josey had been long gone. He did take my statement and say they were going to speak to Josey, and he thanked me before leaving.
The commotion, somehow, didn’t wake Troy up, and I decided I didn’t want to bother him this late in the night. It would be easier to tell him in the morning.
I tried to sleep that night but I couldn’t. The look in Josey’s eyes and the devilish grin on her face was practically burned into my brain. It somehow felt more scary than this Blood Lady Edward told Troy about.
The next morning, I talked to Troy, who was rather disturbed to hear what Josey had done.
“What the fuck is the matter with these people?” he asked.
“That’s what I want to know,” I responded. “But even the officer didn’t seem convinced.”
“Wait, was the officer tall and having a mullet haircut?”
“Yeah?” I said incredulously.
“Yep, I figured,” he said. “That’s Alvin, Robert’s best friend from high school, and as Alvin himself put it to me. Anytime we have an issue with the Van Pelts, Alvin is always the responding officer. Apparently, he can’t fathom the idea that they are the bad guys.”
“You gotta be kidding me,” I said.
“If I only could be,” Troy responded solemnly.
Three weeks later, I was cleaning things out of the attic in search of anything I wished to take with me back to Pennsylvania. While examining a trunk, I found something I didn’t recognize. It was a beaten-up, leather bound notebook. The front cover read, in permanent ink, “Edward’s Journal.”
“When did Edward have a journal?” I thought. “Maybe as a child?”
Curious, I went downstairs to the kitchen and began to read it. And almost immediately, I realized this wasn’t written in when Edward was a child. Rather, it was the journal he kept prior to his death.
JOURNAL ENTRY #1: OCTOBER 1, 2021
I’m starting these journal entries to document the supernatural hauntings occurring in the house and out in the fields. Yesterday at 3:30 p.m., I saw the Blood Lady in the fields again. Normally, I would see her from about 100 feet away or something. But this time, she was only five feet away from me. I wouldn’t have even noticed her if I hadn’t heard the moaning start again. Her piercing black eyes were the first things I noticed, and it knocked my heart into the pit of my stomach. She then laughed maniacally before running off into the trees behind the ranch. I’ve seen her 10 times now, but despite there being cameras everywhere on the premises, she hasn’t been captured on anything. Am I really going crazy?
JOURNAL ENTRY #2: OCTOBER 1, 2022
I called the psychic to see if she can come earlier than originally scheduled, but she won’t be back in town until January 4th. Fuck. Troy and the others are still on holiday leave, and I don’t want to bother them. I can’t let them worry more than they already are.
In the meantime, I haven’t seen the Blood Lady since this morning. But I’ve heard laughter come from the basement. It sounded like a baby, only it’s kind of staticy-sounding. How is that even possible?
JOURNAL ENTRY #3: OCTOBER 2, 2022
I went a whole day without seeing the Blood Lady. I thought I was finally making progress. Oh, how wrong I was.
At around 8:30 p.m. tonight, I went to the shed to grab some tools I would need to fix the birdhouses tomorrow. As I was locking the door, I heard rustling in the bushes behind me. I looked and saw nothing there. I turned back forward, and then heard rustling again. This time, I checked the brush to verify it was just noises. Again, found nothing.
I wished I had found nothing when I turned back around to walk toward the ranch.
In front of me was a naked man on all fours, wearing a fucking decapitated goat’s head. The goat’s eye had been gutted out and its mouth hung lifelessly open.
I fucking screamed my head off and ran towards the house…and this thing followed me on all fours the entire way. Once I closed the door and locked it, the thing stood up on both legs and then ran backwards towards the woods.
What the actual fuck is happening to me?
JOURNAL ENTRY #4: OCTOBER 2, 2022
I’ve resorted to carrying my .22 with me while on the ranch. I haven’t seen either the Blood Lady or the Goat Man since last night. If I see either, I am shooting them with the .22. I know they aren’t real. I can’t let them beat me.
JOURNAL ENTRY #5: OCTOBER 3, 2022
The police are coming by later to scope out the premises. The security cameras are somehow capturing nothing, so I have no evidence. I am praying they find something that will prove I am not going insane.
JOURNAL ENTRY #6: OCTOBER 3, 2022
As I watch the fireworks over at the Van Pelt residence as they celebrate Josey’s birthday, I feel great despair in knowing my family is mostly gone. Mom and Pops have been dead since 2011, and Benjamin and I haven’t talked since our fight. I miss him. I miss Mom. I miss Pops. I envy what the Van Pelts have: a family. Even though I hate them, they at least have something they can cherish.
At least I haven’t seen either of the two since two days ago.
JOURNAL ENTRY #7: OCTOBER 3, 2022
Nevermind. Both are in the fields again. The Blood Lady was standing upside down in a handstand position. The goat man was running on all fours in circles, baaing at the top of his lungs.
The psychic will be here in a few days and she can get rid of these spirits or hallucinations or whatever the fuck they are. I am more confident it’s ghosts and not visions. If it’s visions, I’m a dead man.
JOURNAL ENTRY #8: OCTOBER 4, 2022
I have now seen a third one. This man’s fucking giant, he’s gotta be at least 6’9” and 300 pounds. He wears a latex mask. I hope it’s latex. Please dear God, let it not be what I think it is.
I also found Pops’ home video for Benjamin’s 12th birthday. God I miss him so much. I could use him and Mom right now.
Troy and the others will be back in a few weeks. You can survive for now, Eddie. You’ll be okay.
JOURNAL ENTRY #9: OCTOBER 5, 2022
The Blood Lady was in the house last night. There was a bloody handprint on the inside of my window. Alvin came by and once again didn’t really help much. Why is the police so goddamn corrupt? The security cameras, once again, showed nothing. They gotta be messing with it somehow.
JOURNAL ENTRY #10: OCTOBER 6, 2022
I haven’t seen them at all today. Good
JOURNAL ENTRY #11: OCTOBER 7, 2022
The giant was staring at me through the window. He is so big. He then let out this disturbing laugh. It was so deep it sounded demonic. Do I now need to call an exorcist?
JOURNAL ENTRY #12: OCTOBER 8, 2022
JESUS CHRIST. ALL THREE OF THEM ARE IN THE HOUSE. I WAS SHOWERING WHEN I LOOKED UP AND SAW ALL THREE POKING THEIR HEADS IN THROUGH THE SHOWER CURTAIN. THEY LET OUT THESE HORRIFYING GIGGLES AND THEN SCURRIED OFF.
I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE. THE COPS HAVE CHECKED THE ENTIRE PROPERTY AND HAVE FOUND NOTHING. I STILL HAVE TO WAIT ANOTHER DAY FOR THE PSYCHIC TO COME.
GOD HELP ME PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!
JOURNAL ENTRY #13: OCTOBER 9, 2022
I am at a hotel now. I am waiting for the psychic to come at 3 p.m. No visions since leaving the ranch. Maybe it is the ranch itself and not me. I can only hope.
JOURNAL ENTRY #14: OCTOBER 10, 2022
The psychic came and blessed the house. She claimed there was one ghost in the house, but that was it. No demons, no monsters. The ghost wasn’t even either Mom or Pops. It was some dude named Ulysses. WTF. I think I’ll be okay now. I just pray things go well tonight.
JOURNAL ENTRY #15: OCTOBER 11, 2022
I shot my gun at one of them. I then heard a scream. Oh shit.
JOURNAL ENTRY #16: OCTOBER 11, 2022
Robert came over earlier tonight. He kept asking me about the land. His offers are tempting but I still said no. The asshole then said he was gonna place a curse on me. Fucking piece of shit.
JOURNAL ENTRY #17: OCTOBER 12, 2022
News came out that someone was shot by a stray bullet last night. Oh God, I’m gonna go to jail.
JOURNAL ENTRY #18: OCTOBER 13, 2022
Alvin came by last night to examine my .44. Good thing it was the wrong gun but now I’m scared they will pinpoint it on me. The Van Pelts really are gonna get win in the end.
JOURNAL ENTRY #19: OCTOBER 13, 2022
They were all standing at the edge of my bed.
They were all standing at the edge of my bed.
They were all standing at the edge of my bed.
They were all standing at the edge of my bed.
They were all standing at the edge of my bed.
They were all standing at the edge of my bed.
They were all standing at the edge of my bed.
They were all standing at the edge of my bed.
JOURNAL ENTRY #20: OCTOBER 14, 2022
Alvin came back again. I didn’t answer this time. They know it’s me. I’m so fucked.
JOURNAL ENTRY #21: OCTOBER 14, 2022
This is it. I’m done with this hell.
I’m hiding this journal in the attic just in case anyone finds it. I don’t want my mental illness getting out to the press.
Ben, if you ever find this, know I always loved you. I am ready to become another guardian angel over you. Tell Troy I said thank you for everything he’s done for me.
I’m coming home, Mom and Pops. See you guys soon.
I AM FREE!
I had never felt more sick reading the journal than I have felt in my entire life. It sickened me to know just how much in pain my brother was during his final days. But what scares me the most is this fact: Edward claimed the security cameras and even the police did not see a single creature in and around the ranch. The psychic claimed there were no evil spirits lingering.
But I know Edward’s suicide wasn’t caused by schizophrenia or any other hallucinatory mental illness.
I know this…
Because during the three weeks between seeing Josie at my window and finding the journal, Troy and I have seen these three creatures around the premises. Sometimes, they are hiding in bushes. Sometimes, they are at the windows.
The security cameras are still catching nothing, but Troy noticed there are points where the cameras would freeze up or cut randomly. Someone has hacked into the feed and deleted portions of footage. This scares me even more; I never knew security camera feeds could be hacked.
The police, more specifically Alvin, continue to be little of no help. They are corrupted as well.
But I’m not gonna let my brother’s death be in vain.
Even if I die trying.