It was June 23rd, three years ago. I was visiting my mother, as she isn’t much longer for the world and I haven’t seen her in such a great deal of time.
I had pulled into my mother’s driveway, inside of my 2009 Toyota Camry, eager to see her once more. I got out and walked up to the door, knocking on the painted green, antique wood. My mother answered with an eager grin, and invited me in.
The green recliner in the corner, the large sofa, and the old TV felt so familiar. I saw that she had made something too eat. I couldn’t tell if it was ham or turkey, as it was in a different room, as well as being cut up. I told her I was thankful and she didn’t have to do this for me, as I can cook myself, and wanted to make her something myself.
She said not to mention it, as she was my mother. After the meal, she asked if I could stay the night. As she asked that, I thought I heard a tap on the window of the back door.
I looked over and saw a blur, but brushed it off, as I had worked for over 7 hours today. A few hours passed of talking and watching TV and so we were ready to rest for the night, when I heard something. I looked out the window from the same back door, and I was greeted by an abnormally large, and strange looking great horned owl.
My mother saw as well, and said she’d seen it all the time. It stared straight at me and something looked off. It looked like a mask instead of a face. Suddenly, it started getting closer, closer even closer. I locked the door quickly, dead locked, chained locked and all, as it crept closer it looked more and more like a man.
Once it got to the door, my fear was proved correct. It was a 7’10 lanky man, with an owl mask that was melted into the skin on his face. He was so skinny, that his ribs, and spine was visible. It had looked as if he hadn’t eaten in months. He had strange, talon-like hands and feet. he was wearing a black jumpsuit of some sort, also seemingly melted into his skin.
He cocked his head, looking at us. I ran and grabbed the butcher knife. When I looked back, my mother was in pure disgust, so I had ran back to see, only to see his long, extended neck twisting in a grotesque spiral.
I got my mother and ran into the bed room, locked her in the closet, and hid behind the opened door with the knife in hand. I looked through the crack, he was already there. I knew I locked the door. He entered the room, not noticing me.
In my blind fear, I showed my coward’s back, and I had ran. On my way out, I came to my senses, and realized I had left my mother, but it was too late, I heard it. the mincemeat, the screams, turned to wheezes, the struggling, I couldn’t bare it.
I had left the house after hearing it, on the way to my car, I hear the tapping of footsteps, fast footsteps. I had gotten to my car, and saw him right at the window. I drove away, feeling terrible over what I’ve sacrificed.
I called the police as soon as I got home, and told them what happened. They checked, and found not even a single trace of human DNA besides my mother’s. I’ve mostly got over it, but it still haunts me. And as I sleep tonight, I hear a tapping, a tapping at my bedroom window.