hey. its me james again. and if you havent read part one i really admire you do to so! https://www.reddit.com/r/ourcreepypastas/comments/16kxp64/my_dear_mickey/ but anyways this happened to me yesterday. After that nightmarish encounter with the twisted version of my beloved cat Mickey, I found myself back in the city, far away from the eerie summer house. I tried to go about my life as usual, but the memory of that night haunted my every moment. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something malevolent had attached itself to me, and I feared it might not be done with me yet.
Days turned into weeks, and I did my best to put the horrifying incident behind me. My family, friends, and even my grandson, who went by the online name “Rezbir” or “Myrg Spelmästaren,” tried to comfort me. But the unease gnawed at my sanity, and I found myself scouring the internet for any information that could help me make sense of what had happened.
One evening, as I was aimlessly browsing the web, I stumbled upon a peculiar thread in a paranormal forum. The title sent a shiver down my spine: “something has been living inside my dog” or something simular. I clicked on it, and the tales within were eerily similar to my own experience.
Users described her/his/their dog acting strangely, just as Mickey had. They spoke of whispers in the night and unsettling changes in their beloved animals’ appearances. Some had managed to flee, like me, while others claimed that their pets had vanished without a trace. One user even claimed to have seen a monstrous creature lurking in the woods, just beyond the reach of their porch light.
i saw more and more of the same type of posts. The more I read, the clearer it became that these people had encountered the same malevolent entity that had taken hold of Mickey. The creature was not bound by time or place, and its influence seemed to stretch far and wide. Some speculated that it fed on the fear and suffering of those it encountered, using the guise of our beloved pets to draw us into its grasp.
I couldn’t ignore the chilling realization that I might not have escaped its clutches entirely. Despite being miles away from that cursed place, I felt its presence lingering in the shadows, a dark cloud that refused to dissipate. I began to hear faint whispers in the dead of night, and the memories of that night continued to torment me.
Desperation gnawed at my sanity, and I reached out to others who had shared their stories online. Together, we formed a small community of survivors, determined to unravel the mystery of the Eldritch Feline and find a way to banish it from our lives forever.
As we delved deeper into our research and shared our experiences, a chilling truth emerged. The creature was ancient and insidious, and it had been terrorizing unsuspecting souls for centuries. We learned of rituals and incantations that might banish it, but the risks were unimaginable, and the price of failure was unthinkable.
Our journey to confront the Eldritch Feline had only just begun, and I couldn’t help but fear that the darkest horrors were yet to come. The malevolent entity had bound itself to our lives, and breaking free from its grasp would require an act of unimaginable courage.
Years had passed since I first encountered the malevolent entity that had taken the form of my beloved cat, Mickey. I was now an old man of 73, my hair gray and my back bent with the weight of time. But the memories of that night still haunted me, a persistent shadow that refused to fade.
One evening, as I sat in my dimly lit living room, a knock on the door startled me. Slowly, I made my way to the door and opened it to find my grandson, Rasmus, known as “Rezbir” to the online world. He had grown into a fine young man, with the same inquisitive spirit that had led me down this dark path.
“Grandpa,” he began, “I’ve been reading your old posts about the Eldritch Feline, and I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this story. I want to go back to that summer house and find out what really happened.”
His determination mirrored my own from years ago. I hesitated, my mind flooded with the terror of that night, but I knew deep down that he needed to uncover the truth. “Alright, Rasmus,” I finally said, “but we must be cautious, for the Eldritch Feline is not to be underestimated.”
Together, we embarked on the journey back to the cursed summer house. The drive was filled with tension, and the closer we got, the heavier the air became. As we arrived, the woods surrounding the house felt denser, the shadows more foreboding.
We entered the house, and it was as if time had stood still. The furniture was covered in dust, the air was stale, and the memories of that fateful night came rushing back to me. Rasmus, undeterred, set up his equipment—a digital recorder and a camera.
The hours passed in eerie silence, broken only by the sound of our breathing. Rasmus, his voice trembling, spoke into the recorder, “This is Rasmus, and I’m here with my grandfather, James. We’ve returned to the summer house to investigate the Eldritch Feline. If there’s anyone or anything here, please make your presence known.”
A chill ran down my spine as we waited for a response. Suddenly, a faint whisper echoed through the room, so faint that I questioned whether I had heard it at all.
“What was that?” Rasmus asked, his eyes wide with fear.
I shook my head, unable to find an explanation. “I don’t know, but we should be careful.”
As night fell, the atmosphere grew suffocating, and a sense of impending doom hung over us. Rasmus continued to document our investigation, each step taking us deeper into the unknown. The whispers grew louder, unintelligible words that clawed at the edges of our sanity.
Then, a chilling voice, neither mine nor Rasmus’s, spoke from the darkness. “You should have stayed away,” it hissed, the words dripping with malice.
Rasmus and I exchanged terrified glances. “Who’s there?” Rasmus demanded, his voice shaking.
“You’ve returned,” the voice continued, mocking and otherworldly. “You can’t escape what you’ve awoken.”
In the dim light, I saw movement in the corner of the room. It was Mickey—or what remained of him—his grotesque form looming in the shadows. “Grandpa, look!” Rasmus cried out.
Mickey’s eyes, once filled with warmth and love, were now empty voids. He moved closer, his misshapen body contorting unnaturally, and spoke words that echoed with ancient malevolence.
I could no longer contain my terror. “Rasmus, run!” I shouted, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the door.
We sprinted out into the night, the Eldritch Feline’s eerie laughter echoing behind us. As we reached the safety of our car, I knew that the nightmare was far from over, and that the malevolent entity had returned with a vengeance. i am planning to go back alone this time. i cant let that damn creature claim more victims. and if you want to follow my story when i return yet again, just comment down below. and i`ll see what i can do