I’ve called myself paranoid for quite some time because of the little things that put me on edge. I can’t stay in the dark. Even when my eyes focus I can feel the gaze of some night dweller following me as I tiptoe to stay unheard and scan with my pathetic, nearsighted eyes. I can feel something, something hidden in the dark that must be there since I can’t see it. I can’t stand the silence either. You’d think the opposite would be true, since at least the silence I can hear if something is coming. Not someone. Something. But it’s not at all, I can feel myself stiffen and tense as I strain to pick up a sound. As if the silence is just inviting a sound that doesn’t belong. As if it’s inviting something to happen. For something to DO something. I sleep with the television on. It solves both sources of this instinctive paranoia. But now I don’t think it’s all paranoia.
Lately I’ve been hearing noises around the house, and sometimes when I look around I notice things knocked over, or missing, or just moved around. Once or twice I’ve heard something moving around just before I turn to find nothing. I’ve been having nightmares. In the nightmares a creature I’ve never seen in even the darkest of folklore tells me I should be afraid, because I will be like it soon.
This morning, in the first moments of waking, I saw something. It was just like that creature from my nightmares. I told myself I was still in those moments of dreaming…but I’m not sure I believe myself.
I think it touched me.
I think it had claws.
I saw it again, and this time I couldn’t deny I was awake. I went to get a drink and it was in the hall, just outside the barrier of light from my room. It was pale, too pale, it was nearly white despite its human-like skin and its eyes were startlingly big and black, faintly reflecting the light. Its pale skin was pulled tight across its bony frame and its veins were visible, as if the skin were too thin. It had huge claws. It scared me to know they had touched me, they were like razors and the largest three were a foot long, the other on the bend of its wrist maybe an inch. They were the same color as mine.
All this seemed captured like a photograph in the second it stared at me with its too big eyes, as if surprised it was noticed, before it darted into the dark of the hall past the corner it had peaked around.
I didn’t go to drink.
I think it left the house, but I didn’t sleep for fear of waking to feel its claws touch me again. I can’t stop thinking about them. They look like they’re made of the same material as my own…so how did they look so sharp?
I was wrong. When I woke up it was watching me sleep, awkwardly sitting in the corner diagonal from me. No. Not I woke up. It woke me up. I heard it breathing. It was a rattling sound like a sick animal; toneless, emotionless, flat. I saw all of it. Its hind legs are much shorter than its front legs, and I remember my first thought was “how can it walk on all fours with them so mismatched”. I could see its ribs…it’s so bony. It has no muscle tone. It has no features of any gender, I could tell from how it crouched, or sat, or whatever it was doing with its short hind legs. It had claws on its feet, the same as its hands. Three toes and one short claw. I realized its face is too long, and it’s bald…and it has a nose like a skeleton. It let me look at it. I think it liked that I looked at it, at its horrifyingly pale and emaciated form. It let me finish looking and it stared back like it was doing the same thing, like it was taking in every detail. We finished looking into each others souls at the same time and it smiled before it walked away on all fours, slowly, as if it was letting me see how it walked. Like it knew I was curious. It looked at me the whole time. It didn’t blink.
I don’t think it can.
Oh god, that stare….
It was in the corner again this morning. It didn’t move when I saw it, even though I didn’t want to observe it again. It stared at me for over an hour before I realized it was waiting for me to get up. I didn’t want to get up. I pulled the covers closer and moved closer to the wall, but I don’t think it liked that. It reached a long forearm out and hooked a claw into the covers and tore them away from me with a flick of its wrist. I don’t know how it did it, it had no muscles, but it was so strong the speed it pulled it gave me rug burn on my hands where I had grabbed the covers. It waited and left the covers by the bed. It watched me. It watched me until I finally moved to the edge of the bed. It didn’t react, but somehow I felt like it lit up. When I finally managed to stand on quivering legs, It stared at me. It stared from head to foot. Then it smiled and left.
It wanted to see how I looked standing.
It wanted to see all of me.
I don’t like how it stared.
I think it likes that corner. It was there again this morning. This time I didn’t feel as afraid to stand, thinking it would make it leave, but it didn’t. It kept staring, as if expecting me to do something. We stared at each other for a long time before I think it got impatient. It came toward me and I moved toward the end of my bed away from it by pure instinct.
Instead of chasing me, it seemed pleased. But I was in its way. I was frozen in fear in front of the doorway, which was just past the end of my bed so it moved past me, able to make it in the space until it had gotten to its wider hind legs. They bumped into me as it pushed me aside and onto the bed with unexpected force.
Its skin is smooth and slightly slimy.
I curled there shaking for some time.
It wasn’t there today…a simple comfort. However as I got dressed I caught it spying on me. I froze with one arm out of its sleeve and with my pants half up. It kept staring. I tried to ignore it and finished dressing, and when I looked back to the door, worried, it was already gone.
I feel like it has some kind of plan.
The fact it’s intelligent enough to plan makes me nervous.
It wasn’t in the corner again, though I dressed slowly to keep an eye out for it. I almost pray it got what it wanted from watching and left. Unfortunately, I found it waiting in the kitchen expectantly, like a pet. I fled to my room and it followed me, no, chased me, and was suddenly ahead of me, blocking my path and staring at me with its big eyes that showed no emotion, though I knew it was angry. I went to the kitchen and put a raw steak on a plate. It smacked it away into the wall where the meat hit with a sickening splat while the plate shattered, and I flinched as it continued to look at me, though it now seemed disappointed in me for getting its desire wrong. Now tentative, I got out the orange juice and poured a cup, though when I went to offer it to it, it made a low noise, the first I had ever heard, and although it had no tone I somehow realized it was female. She stared at me with the cup until I finally took a timid sip, and she sat there as if pleased. I made toast and eggs. She wanted none of it, only for me to eat. Once I finished she got up and left.
I wonder if she’s trying to fatten me up.
She’s getting progressively further into my life. Today I didn’t see her until after breakfast. I went to go to the bathroom and she was suddenly at my heels, her claws barely missing my ankles as it crept behind me. I kept at a steady pace until I was a step or two from the bathroom before rushing in and slamming the door and locking it. I smiled until, as I sat on the toilet, there was a roar and all six of her big claws tore a hole into the door, letting her in. She sat there with a smile, as if triumphant.
I cried as she watched me, and as usual, she left once I was done.
She followed me out today. I went through my home routine without any sign of her, joyous as I went along my way to school, until I heard it. Her breathing. I don’t know how but I heard it. I looked around in fright and saw her dark eyes watching me from the shadows, and when I stopped, she made that low noise of disapproval. I don’t know how but I heard it and my feet began to move of their own will to school.
She has me trained.
She watched me from what shadows she could find, and I think she was there in the classroom.
I’m starting to understand how she works. I kept an eye out for her all day until school was out, but there was no sign of her. When I got home, as expected, she was waiting for me. She seemed glad that I expected her and waited just as expectantly for me to continue along my routine to the next task: Homework. She sat by my desk and watched me. I almost felt comforted that I understood what she wants now. I’m not sure I like that I’m comforted.
I was right; she followed me throughout the rest of my daily routine step at a time until I went to bed. I’ve started to wonder what she does when she’s not watching me. I think she’s studying me…I wonder if she’s somehow compiling it. I realize that that thought means I believe she’s gathering information on me for other creatures. I slept uneasily.
She’s gone. I didn’t see her, even after I went to bed. I don’t like that I’m worried.
Still no sign of her. Only these entries and the hole in my bathroom door convince me she was actually real. Or I’m going crazy. At this point the latter is starting to seem more reasonable.
I called someone to fix the door. I’m not sure why I hadn’t after she had done it anyway. Or even after she had finished observing my “cleaning” ritual. They said it will take three days.
The man asked a lot of questions about the door hole, saying it looked like someone had taken a hatchet to it. He asked why the hole was so low, and such an odd size. I lied and he gave me a weird look. I told the truth and he gave me a weirder one. When I insisted it was the truth, he threatened me. I’ll be getting someone new to fix the door.
I’m still shaking. She’s back, but something’s different about her. I woke up and found her mouth around my head, a frightening feat, and I saw all of the razor sharp teeth going from the entrance down her throat. My first thought was that she’d come to kill me. My second was to wonder if I was her food. My third, how those teeth functioned in her throat. She eased her mouth off me gently but a tooth nicked my nose. It barely touched me, but it was a horrible gash, and bled hard. She licked it, and her tongue felt like a cat’s. The cut stopped. It still hurts. She seemed satisfied by my frightened appearance and left abruptly.
That night I watched the news. The man who came to fix my door was found killed in his apartment with what they suspected was a hatchet.
I woke up to her again, this time on top of me. She’s light but her bones dug into me to awaken me. She stared at me with a smile as I shook and showed me her teeth again. I managed to whimper and she retreated to her corner.
She doesn’t leave me alone now. I learned she doesn’t sleep. I feel her eyes on me wherever I go.
I pet a cat on the street on the way home from school yesterday. Today it was gutted on my kitchen table. She grinned when I threw up.
She was missing for a spell today, and I noticed the closet door open. I felt compelled to look in and I realized that’s where she’s been living. There is a strong smell of death. I’m getting more and more frightened.
For the first time in a long time, she was gone. I spent time with friends. I enjoyed myself. I kissed my boyfriend and hugged him but said nothing of why we hadn’t spent time together.
She cut off his arm. It was in my bed, positioned as if he was caressing me.
I stayed home.
I left the house for the first time in days to see him. He was out of the hospital. He hadn’t spoken to anyone. His first words in days were, “She said ‘my property’,” before he fainted.
She’s become engorged. She leaks a foul smelling liquid that smells like rotting meat. I’m not sure what she’s feeding on.
She spoke to me. She said I can no longer leave.
I’ve run out of food. She saw I didn’t eat and brought me something. It was my friend’s dog.
I tried to go get food and she attacked me. I had three puncture marks in my leg from where she pulled me back inside. I ate the dog.
I cry a lot. I can’t make myself leave my bed. The puncture marks are infected.
I left the bed to clean the punctures. I’ll live. I wish I hadn’t cleaned them but she watched me the whole time.
I read a book and laughed. She got thinner.
I smiled. She seemed upset. It took a while to realize the smell of her was missing.
I know how to kill it.
I’m finally free. After a week’s preparation I managed to approach her while she was moving to the next room and hugged her, her skin slick and greasy from that horrible liquid. She screeched and tried to attack but I was on her back, holding on tight and refusing to give in to fear and give her strength. She ran and I nearly slipped from her speed and that coating, the smell beginning to make me dizzy, but I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and kissed her bald head, feeling the veins pulsing madly. She buckled with a gurgling noise. When I got up those eyes were white, and she didn’t follow me. She’s finally dead.
The body was gone. I find I don’t care why as long as it’s gone.
I woke up to find those claws touching me and immediately hugged the source. A voice laughed. It was male.
“We already know about you. That won’t work twice.”
I can’t stop crying.
They sent me to my first house. The source is a young boy. He wet himself when my claws touched him in his waking hours. It was wonderful.