I know my brother had started it all as a joke. A mean spirited, stupid, and hateful joke; but still a joke. My whole family are a bunch of pranksters. I hate it honestly. My mom and I are the only ones who don’t participate. My mom had to threaten divorce to set the boundary that she was not to be messed with. This was after my Uncle on my dads’ side had rubbed poison ivy in her face while we were all out camping as a family. My mom is very allergic to the stuff, and her face swelled up so badly she had to be taken to an emergency room. After that incident I think my family realized they had finally gone too far. Mom had talked to a divorce attorney and moved out to my grandparents for a month, the whole deal; before my dad realized if he didn’t stop he’d lose his family. After that, and marriage counseling, the pranks stopped. At least from my dad and Uncles.
My brother Thomas was a different story. His pranks were tame in comparison to what my father and Uncles used to do. They were more annoying than anything. He’d do stupid things like put salt in your coffee or pour out the milk jug and replace it with water. Real juvenile stuff. He got grounded for it a lot.
This last time was different. We were watching a movie in the family room. It was some cheesy B horror movie. It was about demonic possession, and now I can’t even remember the name. The acting was terrible and the effects were just as bad, but I still winced every time the possessed actor appeared on screen. His eyes blacked out with sclera lenses and his movement stilted and contorted as he charged at the hapless teens on screen.
Thomas was watching my reaction with a huge grin on his face. I caught his eye and my mood sank, I knew that look.
“Is that scary Mandy? Are you scared of the scary, scary demons?” He giggled and inched closer to me.
I inched away, “Whatever you’re thinking about, don’t,” I hissed in frustration.
He didn’t listen. Instead he stood up and looked at me still grinning, then his eyes rolled back so that all I could see were the whites of his eyes. His mouth open slack jawed and he let out an exaggerated moan before dropping to the floor and fake convulsing.
My mom saw this and reached out with her foot, nudging him as he writhed on the floor. “Thomas, stop that right now or I’m turning the TV off.”
He didn’t stop, he doubled down. Thomas is double jointed. Something he already uses to annoy the hell out of me and scare people who aren’t familiar with him. So, as he writhed on the ground he was able to contort himself into increasingly weird positions as he continued to groan.
“Help me Mandy! I’m possessed!” he wheezed as he reached his arms out towards me.
I sprang from the sofa and put the furniture between us and scowled at him. My mom stood up as well and clicked the TV off with an angry flourish.
“That’s it! Thomas it’s not funny. The TV is off and we’re not watching anything now because you’re trying to scare your sister.” My mom raised her voice as she stared down at Thomas’s body.
Meanwhile my dad was doing a terrible job of stifling his own laughter. His had covered his mouth with his hands but it did nothing to cover his deep laughs.
Mom turned to glare at him too. “It’s not funny to scare your family Brian! He learned this from you!” She hissed as she walked out of the room. I followed her.
Behind us I heard my dad call out. “Come on, that joke is pretty harmless!”
Mom and I hung out on the back porch for a while, both of us commiserating with how terrible all these jokes were. Moms eyes were hardened and her mouth was a tight scowl. My brother was going to be grounded for this one, not only for scaring me but mostly for ignoring mom when she told him to stop.
The next day Thomas continued his joke. When I opened my bedroom door he was there on the floor in front of me, contorted and moaning while laughing at my discomfort.
“Help me Mandy I’m possessed!” He wheezed as he contorted his body into awkward and unnatural poses.
I slammed the door and shouted for my parents. Through the door I could hear the rapid footsteps of my mom and her muffled reprimands. Thomas was laughing hysterically. I didn’t open the door until the laughter faded enough that I was sure he was in his room. I opened the door right as mom was about to knock on it. She looked pissed.
“Your brother is grounded until he apologizes,” she said tight lipped.
That was fine with me. As we passed his bedroom door we could still hear him laughing. It was disturbing. It sounded like he didn’t even have a chance to breathe in between his deep belly laughs.
My dad came down half an hour later, there was a faint smile on his lips. He seemed to be getting a kick out of what his son was doing, even if the rest of us did not.
Mom was at the stove, making pancakes for everyone. Her movements were sharp and concentrated, how they always were when she was angry. Dad sat down opposite me from the table and winked at me.
“Someone’s in a bad mood,” he teased.
Mom turned her head and glared at him. “You’re damn right I am. He learned all this joke stuff from you and your family. Does someone need to go to the emergency room again for it to sink in that none of this is funny?” She snapped.
Dads smile faded and he turned his attention to his coffee. He never liked being reminded of that time in their marriage. Neither did I for that matter.
As mom started plating the pancakes we all heard the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. We all turned to look at Thomas as he appeared in the kitchen, his head hung and looking sheepish.
He glanced at me with what seemed like genuine remorse. “I’m sorry Mandy. I know I took it too far.”
I glared at him but finally nodded. “It’s okay, just don’t do it again. None of what you did was funny.”
Thomas shuffled to the kitchen table and mom set a plate in front of him, serving him a small stack of pancakes.
“You’re still grounded till Monday though mister. Your actions have consequences.” My mom chided him, before pulling out a chair and sitting down.
Thomas gave her a thoughtful expression as he poked at his breakfast with his fork. “Hey mom, you’re a dirty whore.”
The whole table froze. My eyes widened. Mom looked shocked, and I saw tears welling up in her eyes. Dad stood up and leaned over and grabbed Thomas by the shoulder.
“What the hell did you just say to your mother?” His tone was more shocked than angry.
Thomas turned to him. A smile unnaturally wide on his face an he spoke again through gritted teeth.
“I said. That she is a dirty whore,” he hissed.
“What the hell Thomas,” I said around my mouthful of pancake.
Beside me my mom dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter and covered his face as she started to cry. The sound of her crying made both my father and I look towards her.
When our faces were turned Thomas stood up from his chair and punched my dad square in the face while bursting out laughing.
My dad let out a surprised grunt as the punch connected and he stumbled back. Both my mom and I screamed. Thomas let out a victorious yelp and raced from the kitchen, up the stairs, and into his room slamming the door; all while we still tried to process what had just happened.
Mom stopped crying and was looking horrified at my dad as blood dripped from his nose. Dad looked stunned as he reached up and wiped the blood from his face. I just stared at them both, having no clue what to say. Upstairs we could still hear Thomas laughing hysterically. Dad looked towards the stairs and this look of rage overtook his face. He ran from the kitchen and up the stairs and as we lost sight of him we heard him yelling out my brothers’ name, followed by pounding on his bedroom door.
Mom and I scrambled after him. He was outside Thomas’s door, pounding on it to be let in.
“Thomas! Open this door right now. You’re in the biggest trouble of your life. If you don’t open this door you’re going to make it worse for yourself.” He screamed.
“Has he gone insane?” I asked, looking between mom and dad.
My mom shook her head. Thomas was a prankster but this was too far. This was malicious. This was some kind of mental break.
“Should we call the cops or something?” I asked my dad in between his pounding on the door.
“No!” He yelled, turning to me.
I stepped backwards instinctively, he had never yelled at me before.
Mom put her arm around me and led me back down the stairs into the kitchen. She looked very shaken and I wondered if I should be the one comforting her. She poured us both a second cup of coffee and we listened to my dad continuing to yell at Thomas through the door. He had given up banging on it. With the lock in place he wasn’t getting in. This wasn’t like the movies where a door was easily broken down. I wasn’t sure if we were at the point of breaking down doors.
“I don’t know Mandy, I don’t know what’s gotten into your bother. I hate it. All these jokes. They’re not funny. No funny at all,” mom said in between sips of her coffee. He voice was steady but her hands were shaking.
I reached over and gave her an awkward half hug that she returned. After that we both concentrated on our coffee as we heard dad continuing to threaten Thomas. My brothers muffled laughter had turned to high pitched squeals of delight. It made my hair stand on end just listening to it. If I could’ve I would have just walked out of the house and not come back until all this was settled. But I lived here, and I didn’t want to leave either of my parents alone. Besides, Thomas was having some kind of mental break; this was so far beyond his normal behavior that it seemed like the likely explanation.
Mom pulled out her phone and looked at me with scared eyes.
“If I can’t call the police I’m calling your granddad. Thomas always listens to him, maybe he can talk him down,” she said as she selected his number from the contacts.
I nodded, it was a good idea. My grand father was one of those quiet and stoic types that everyone listened too. While mom was on the phone with him I inched towards the stairs and peered upwards, I could just make out my dad pacing in front of Thomas’s door. He had stopped his threats but his pacing was angry and his hands were clenched at his side. I thought it was better not to disturb him right now. Mom came up behind me and I jumped a little, I hadn’t heard her approach.
“Sorry Mandy,” she apologized putting her hand on my shoulder, “I didn’t mean to scare you. Granddad will be here in about fifteen minutes.”
When my grandfather arrived, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. It felt good having another adult in the house. I was not equipped to deal with whatever was going on with my brother, I feared my parents weren’t either, but another level head in the house would surely help.
Both my mom and I gave him a hug as he walked in. It felt safer now. My grand father is a huge guy, close to six and a half feet and even in his early sixties he was a well-built man.
“Dad!” Mom sank into his arms and started to tear up.
Granddad put a reassuring arm around her and have her a bear hug.
“It’s alright honey. Whatever is happening with our boy we are gonna get it fixed.” He reassured her.
We all marched up the stairs and saw dad sitting with his back to the door. He had a defeated look on his face as he glanced at us.
He waved at my granddad, “Hey Allen,” he said in a resigned tone. His nose had stopped bleeding finally but there was a lot of blood staining his shirt.
My granddads eyes widened at the blood and he nodded at my dad in return.
“Good morning Brian,” he said in a calm voice.
His eyes were fixed on the bedroom door as he walked over and knocked on it loudly. The sound resonated more than all the pounding my dad had done earlier. It sounded stronger, more authoritative. The bedroom was finally silent. I wished the laugher or squeals would start up again, just so Granddad could hear how unhinged my brother sounded.
“Thomas, this is your granddad. I heard about all that happened today from your mom. I just want you to know that we all love you and want to get you some help. Whatever’s happening is something that we can all get through together.” His voice sounded so calm, reassuring.
From the bedroom we heard the sound of footsteps approach the door and it shifted slightly as if someone had pressed themselves against it from the other side.
“Grand dad,” Thomas called out. His voice sounded high pitched, pathetic, and oddly young. As if he was suddenly five years old again.
“I’m here,” My grand dad reassured him, pressing his hand against the door.
“Grand dad,” Thomas croaked out again. His voice sounded strained and pinched, as if he was fighting back tears.
“I don’t know what’s happening. I think there’s something wrong with me,” he wheezed.
It was actually breaking my heart. I looked over at mom and dad. Mom had her hands pressed to her mouth and her eyes were slowly leaking tears. Dad had his arm wrapped around mom but he still looked more than a little pissed.
“Thomas, why don’t you come out of the room and we can all go to the hospital together. Does that sound like something that you can do,” My granddad said gently.
My brother was silent for a minute beyond the door. “Do you promise you don’t be mad at me if I open the door? You promise you won’t scream or anything?” Thomas asked in a small voice.
“No Thomas, no one here is going to scream at you,” my granddad answered, shooting a quick glance at my dad.
“Okay, just remember that you said you wouldn’t scream,” my brother said in his small and tired voice.
I think we all expected the door to open slowly. But the door to his room slammed open with such force that we all jumped back, and I screamed involuntarily. Thomas stood in the doorway, grinning an unnaturally wide grin as she looked at us with blood shot eyes. And he was completely naked. And covered in blood, and something else that we would only find out later was a mixture of feces and the chopped up remains of the pet goldfish he kept in his room.
My mom screamed. I screamed again. My granddad looked stunned and my dad was frozen. Thomas leapt. My brother was not a big kid, but the impact of his body slamming into my grand fathers’ chest was enough to send them both tumbling to the floor. Thomas grabbed my grandfathers hair and hissed into his face while he was still stunned.
“Do you still want to help your precious grand baby?” He spit in the old mans face before slashing him across the face with his nails.
Grand dad grunted and wrestled him off, but he couldn’t keep a grip on him. The blood and other bodily fluids on Thomas’s body make it impossible to get a grip on him. Thomas sprang up and jumped towards my mom. She screamed and stepped backwards out of pure instinct.
“You promised you wouldn’t scream!” He yelled in her face before slashing at her face with his nails.
Mom screamed again as he raked his fingers across her cheek drawing blood. As he drew his arm back again dad stepped forward and shoved Thomas, hard, hard enough to send him sprawling backwards and down the stairs.We all stood for a second looking at each other, everyone too stunned to move. Then Thomas began to laugh as he pulled himself to a standing position.
“Oh Daddy, you hurt me! You hurt me daddy! How could you do that to your little baby boy,” He cackled at us.
I was backing away, I didn’t want to see any of this anymore. My grand dad was up, and he was wiping at his face which was coming away bloody.
“Thomas!” He roared and charged down the stairs.
My brother let out a tiny yelp and ran, the last I saw of him was his naked body running out the front door with my grandfather in pursuit. Mom was crying. She was kneeling and cradling her face with both hands. Dad was prying away her hands to assess the damage. It wasn’t as bad as the amount of blood would make you believe. But it was still insane how much damage my brothers finger nails had caused.
I started crying too. Partly from shock but mostly from seeing my mom in pain. From the front yard I could hear my granddad yelling. My mom grabbed my hand and pulled me close, still crying and cradled me like I was child. I sank into her arms and didn’t fight the embrace. I was shaking like I was cold though the house was warm. Dad jumped up as we heard the front door slam open and footsteps approached. We all looked down and saw my grand dad standing at the foot of the stairs, looking disheveled and blood was covering his face. He looked up at us with wide eyes, both fearful and angry.
“I lost him. He ran off down the road and I couldn’t catch him,” He looked at us each in turn as he spoke.
We finally did call the cops. It was a lot to explain. They took our statements and put out an alert on Thomas. I could tell they were having a hard time believing everything we were telling them. In the end it was the security cameras that dad had installed that probably saved us from suspicion.
Mom and granddad went to the emergency room and I went with them, I really was the only person calm enough at the time to drive. We left dad at home in case Thomas came back.
Thomas never did come back. We called his friends, we put out pleas on social media and the local new station interviewed us about his suspected mental break and disappearance. You can even find the security footage of Thomas from our house on YouTube. None of us have any clue as to how someone got ahold of that footage. I learned to stop reading the comments left on those videos.
Mom and I went to live with my grandparents for a while. I really thought my parents would get a divorce over this. Mom blames dad and his family for starting this whole legacy of pranking. She believes that’s what caused his mental break. I think dad blames himself too. But we came home eventually. The house has a weird feel to it now. It feels darker somehow. We’ve talked briefly of moving but decided against it. If Thomas comes back we want to be here for him.
I went down an internet rabbit hold, trying to figure out what happened to my brother. There’s no history of mental illness in either of our families, though that doesn’t always matter. I became an amateur expert in bi polar disorder and schizophrenia; searching for something that might give me an explanation of what happened to my brother. I did find one thing that scared me. Apparently, there are several ways to become possessed by an inhuman entity. You can invite one in of course, though a direct invitation or other means; such as a Ouija board. But there’s another way I had not heard of before. Pretending to be possessed can invite a possession. I’m not sure I really believe it. Or in anything supernatural really. But I would warn anyone reading this of just one thing. Please don’t ever, ever, pretend to be possessed.