I haVE to type this quickly, please just give me a chance to explain. I told the police what I am about to tell you, but they refused to believe me. A friend told me that you folks might have some idea of what I am dealing with here. In my backyard.
The yard is overgrown, there is an old shed that we haven’t had access to for years. Peeking inside the single dusty pane on the garage, there is nothing remarkable to see: Tired old tools, shelves, and spiders skittering into the darkness.
My wife and I have a Shiba Inu, a very cute dog and also very intuitive. It knows somehow when anyone is sad or even slightly stressed, and he will toss his body onto you to comfort you whether you like it or not. We always just let him go running out into the yard to let him do his thing, and he always comes running back. He loves crashing through the overgrown backyard that our landlord refuses to cut. Ferns and bamboo mix to create a veritable Vietnam, especially on hot nights. Like last night.
To write as clearly as I am, it is taking all of my focus. What I saw makes me laugh and cry at the same time to think of and I couldn’t sleep at all because of it. I kept my shotgun with the rack open next to me in bed, and my wife did not even protest. She did not see, but she could hear. And the police thought we were pranking them. So much for protect and serve.
I let the dog outside as usual, and he ran into the underbrush with a hop and a skip. But as I closed the door behind him to prevent the cloud of mosquitos from coming inside I heard something else out there with him. Thinking a possum or the like, I stuck my head outside to call the dog back inside, but he was waiting for me already at the door. I have never seen a dog afraid before, not outside of the movies. He stood there shaking, and whimpering. Tossing nervous glances outside as I began to shut the door. Strange. As we walked away, I heard something scratching at the door I just shut.
Thinking it was just an outside cat, which we have, I ignored it. Best thing to do. But the scratching did not stop for an hour. My eyes locked on our ceiling fan spinning for eons as scratch scratch. Scraaaaatch scratch scratch. Over/ and over and over and eover and over
I finally got up to go kick the kitty off the steps but it stopped just as I strode over. But then as I turned to walk back to bed there was more. I rushed the door and opened it.
By the time I could see, all I caught a glimpse of was something like a pale hominid, crouching unnaturally as it crawled into the bushes. A distinctly human looking head, but somehow elongated and sloping back. Long arms. The poilice wouldnt believe me. I stayed up all night clutching my gun, sitting in the kitchen facing the back door. Time to to time, the scratching would begin again. And then subside immediately as I stood to open the door. I could not get the courage to go out and find the creature, even with the cold steel at m side. Somethiing about the darkness was different that night, obsidian without a moon. That pale grey skin, stretched over strange bones, seemed powerful despite its emaciated appearance.
I called off work the next day to use the sun to boost my strength. The heat was oppressive, beating through the leaves of the trees and onto my clammy skin. The dog would not go out, he stood in the doorway whining and tap-dancing nervously which only added to my blood pressure and apprechension. I could see a single footstep in the damp dirt outside the door, a shape that made me sick to see since I knew this was something beyond the realm of normal understanding. Long toes, wide feet. Like a simian, but with obvious abberations. Swallowing my fear I delved into the greenery.
With each slow crunch of my feet going through the ground, my heart skipped a beat. I could feel something watching me. It brushed my arm and I turned to fire and looked at nothing more than a bush. My nerves were shot. I peeked into some bushes, moving slowly around the yard. Then the shed came into view, and my heart stopped in my chest and tried to crawl into my throat.
The shed door was OPENED. We were told that it could not open and they were going to demolish it once we were finsihed with our lease. I entered with the gun raised ready to rip somethjing in half with a fleet of lead friends. But there was nothing. Tools, shelves, and dusty old spider skittering off to shadowed corners.
Nothing except for a rug upturned, and a trapdoor exposed by it. Taking my phone, I lifted it open quickly and shined a light down there.
Several pairs of eyes glared back from the dark, and i fired without thinking into the black and shut the door immediately. Chilling cries spewed up from the dirt basement, and loud crashes pushed wildly up against the door as I stood holding it shut slipping into insanity I could not push the eyes from my mind – they looked animal because they glowed but also they had an intelligence to them. Some were scared some were angry what the fuck was living in my back yard this whole time. Maybe it was not the posssums that were eating the stray cat food i leave out maybe it was them and their young creeping onto the porch each night it makes me sick to think of their long fingers shoveling dry kibble into their rotting mouths dear god I am going to be sick writing this
i turned a heavy tool chest over the door, and a shelf, and everything in the garage on top of it. There was no way they could get out. I cannot bring myself to try and kill them, they might get me… No one will believe me or even come out so I can show them this hell. Not even my family. My wife just laughs nervously when I try to bring it up and says i was seeing things. But she wont go out and listen, or look. I cant say I blame her. I did not sleep again. I don’t know if I ever will.
Even though there is no more scratching at my door.
Got home from work, luckily everything was fine but I have to update. There is scratching again. The sun had been down for a few hours now, and my wife and I were dozing on the couch when it started. The cat and the dog both started acting unusual, the cat scampering away into the house somewhere, and the sheebs just whining and grunting and growling at the door. I stood up and paced quickly to the door, and it stopped. I slowly crept toward the door, step by step lightly setting my feet on the ground with great care. I put my ear up to the cold wooden door, hoping to hear something. There was nothing. Crickets droned on in the background. I came back and sat down to upadte thi
There is somethiing on the roof now. I have to go.
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