My name is John. I want a written account of what I saw and when I saw it because I believe something horrible will happen to me. If you’re reading this and have any help, please help me.
These are the events, as I remember them, leading up to Friday.
Wednesday
“Happy nineteenth birthday!” My mother Anne shouted as I came downstairs. I had just woken up from a series of horrible nightmares, so seeing her face first thing in the morning was a welcomed surprise.
I won the lottery a few months ago and used that money to move back in with my parents. I paid off their house, and it’s been like we’re all living on cloud nine. With all the money left over, I could move out whenever I wanted, but something about being close to family felt right.
As I moved down the stairs, I scanned the living room for my father. He wasn’t in front of the TV like he is every morning.
“He went to the thrift store.” My mom sighed as she waved her hand back and forth. She hated it when he went to that store. As far as she was concerned, he always came back with junk. “Well, at least he decided to leave the house.” I shrugged. My father wasn’t happy when he heard I had paid off their house. He always felt like it was his responsibility to do it. We had a small argument about it the day after they got the news. I told him I wanted to repay all the good things he did for me, but he wasn’t hearing it.
My father can be a tough nut to crack. He couldn’t understand why I wanted to continue working after winning my money or why I never dated again after my last girlfriend passed. Everything with him leads to an argument. If going to the thrift store brings him some joy, I welcome him leaving.
My dad was gone for about five hours, and during that time, my mom and I made dinner, put some food away for my father, and had a couple of snacks while watching TV. Everything was fine until my father pulled into the driveway. The tires screeched as he slammed on his brakes; he was at the front door within seconds. “John! Come help me move this item into the house.” He demanded. His voice carried across the whole house. Whenever he gets this loud, my mom can’t help but sigh.
As I walked over to my father and followed him out of the front door, I paused on the steps. A huge clock was sitting in the bed of his truck! The thing was massive and honestly beautiful. I know my mom wouldn’t be able to call the clock junk. The thing looked brand new! “Dad, how much did this thing cost?!” I exclaimed as I helped him unload the clock and bring it inside the house.
“$100!” My father grinned.
It sounded way too good to be true. My mom thought so, too, when we told her the price. But, after getting everything set up and cleaned up, the clock was working just fine. The grandfather clock had symbols carved all over the sides of it. The marks looked like they were part of the original design of the clock. Sitting at the top of the clock was a wooden lion’s head.
For the rest of the night, my dad told us how he got the clock for such a steal. The pawn shop was going out of business, and the clock was one of the last items they had in stock. After talking for a few more hours, we all rested upstairs.
Thursday → Mostly
I slept through Thursday. It felt like I was stuck in a dream.
In my dream, I was walking down a long white hallway with doors on both sides of me, but everything was locked. The doors had no numbers or names on them. There was nothing I could do to tell any of the doors apart. In my head, it felt like I was walking for days. Once I noticed my feet dragging on the carpet, I looked down. The carpet had a triangle pattern, and each triangle was pointing forward. At one point, I wanted to turn around and head backward, but something was pulling me along.
As I continued forward eventually, I could hear humming.
“Hello?” I called into the darkness.
“I’m here. Step forward.” A woman said back to me. Her voice was so calming to listen to; the best way I can describe it is she sounded so ethereal.
I kept walking forward before arriving at my living room. “Who are you?” I asked her softly. I felt like an intruder. Like I was interrupting her day.
“My name is Cleo. I apologize for scaring you, but I had to meet you. We had to talk.” Cleo said as she stood to meet me. She was wearing a long black dress with a huge black cloak. The only thing I could see of her body were her white arms.
“Why did you have to talk to me?” I asked her.
“Because something will kill your family tonight if you don’t wake up and get rid of the clock. Something evil is coming, and you’re not prepared. No one is.” Cleo told me.
“We are going to be attacked by a clock?” I asked her.
“No. Something attached itself to the clock. Something big is coming.” Cleo clarified.
It felt like I was looking at her for days. Like time was moving slowly and only got slower as we stood there. But I couldn’t ask her more questions. My mouth wouldn’t move.
I woke up later covered in sweat. It was approaching midnight, and I had no idea what to make of things. But I didn’t have much time to process it before I could hear my father screaming from downstairs. I have never heard him or anyone scream like that before.
Midnight → Friday
I jolted out of bed and grabbed the baseball bat next to my door before running towards the stairs. As my foot hit the top step, I felt my body fly forward. I slipped on something. As my shoulder hit the ground and I slid sideways, I felt my head slam off of the door behind me. There was something wet under my body.
I slowly opened my eyes. Sitting in front of me was my mom’s dismembered head. Her jaw was ripped open, most of it lying on the floor. Her eyes were rolled back, and some of her hair was missing. I screamed before scrambling to pull myself off the ground. I was hearing static. Nothing was real. It had to be part of my dream. The stairs were covered in blood.
“Dad?” I managed to call out.
That’s when I heard it—the clicking.
I slowly moved on the balls of my feet and walked as slowly as I could to the living room. The clock was open! A black “mist” came from the inside of the clock. I turned my attention to the couch where the clicking was coming from.
Slowly, something began to rise from the couch. It had my father’s severed head in its hands. When our eyes met, the creature dropped my father’s tongue. The beast had the outward appearance of a human but with bigger hands and longer fingers. It’s eyes were a bright white. When it saw me, its face opened down the middle. I still remember the cracking and pulling. That sound will be with me until the day I die.
When its face was done opening, I was met with rows of sharp teeth, a long tongue, and what looked like a smaller set of eyes in the thing’s mouth. I turned and ripped open the front door, barreling down the stairs and into the front yard.
The living room window shattered behind me. I turned to look over my shoulder. The creature was following me! It briefly ran on its back legs before crouching and running on all fours. I took a sharp right turn and ran into the water. We live on a lake, and I hoped this beast couldn’t swim.
I watched as it approached the edge of the water. It didn’t follow me, though. I swam out as far as I could while still keeping the creature in my line of sight. That’s when three black trucks came barreling down our street and onto the grass. I watched two men shoot at the creature while four others ran into my house. I took this opportunity to turn around and swim away.
I managed to make it to the other side of the lake before stopping to rest. I checked my pockets to see if I had my phone. Luckily, I had my wallet. My cash was completely drenched, but I used my debit card to buy a prepaid phone and create this post. I haven’t returned to my house yet, and I don’t think I ever will.
I’ll keep you all updated when I can.