Sacrifice



4/25/11

I woke up abruptly, sweat dripping from my brow. I could feel the presence again. His presence. I looked around my room. I know I’m being watched. It’s not anywhere to be seen. Damn. This is the third night in a row I’ve been awoken like this. The fear is starting to take over my mind. Something out there is stalking me. Something wants me.

But I should back up and tell this from the beginning. I’m sixteen years old, and moved into this house with my family seven years ago. It’s about 30 minutes outside of town, so we’re fairly isolated. My parents love living out here. They say it’s peaceful and pretty. I hate it. Not as much during the day as during the night. I’ve always been scared of the dark. It’s my number one phobia. I hate not being able to see. And out here at night, there’s no light other than the moon and stars. No warm, comforting glow of street lamps. No headlights slowly moving up and down the streets; just a hazy darkness. And it’s especially dark during a new moon.

That’s when I first encountered it. That thing. I had a bunch of friends over, and after dark, we all decided to play some airsoft capture the flag. It was a new moon, which made it especially dark and creepy. No light pierced the inky blackness, except the flashlights on the barrels of our airsoft pistols, and the occasional zip of glow in the dark airsoft pellets, flying at their targets. We were all having a great time. I had grabbed the other team’s flag, and was rushing back to my base, when I heard a sound that made my blood run cold; a scream of terror, coming from about thirty feet to my right. A flash of white was rushing away from the sound. I changed direction, and rushed towards the noise, aiming my flashlight at the source of the sound. My friend Jacob was sitting in the dirt, holding his bleeding leg, obviously in pain. The cut was deep. Another friend, Matt, and I rushed him inside, where we sat on the edge of the bathtub, and began to wash and dress the cut. We asked him what a happened. Some creature had scratched him, he said. He didn’t get a good look at it, but just saw a flash of white. At first I assumed it was just a possum or something. That was before I saw it again.

The second time I was alone. It was the middle of the night, not a new moon thankfully, but still eerie. I had insomnia, a rather common problem for me. It was two a.m. and I had given up all hope of getting any sleep. So I went downstairs to the living room and popped in a DVD. As I lay on the couch, my mind lost in the world of Inception, one of my dogs started barking. I thought nothing of it, barking in the middle of the night is basically a routine for them. Then my other dog joined in, no big deal. But I noticed something. This bark was a lot more menacing than usual. It was more of a guttural, growling bark. The bark dogs make when threatened. I turned on the back porch light, and stepped outside, creeped out. I called for them. “Jake. Zoe. Come here.” Then I saw what they were barking at. It looked like a human, crouched there in the grass. It was probably around four feet tall, with bare, pale skin, and long bony limbs. I studied it for about five seconds and it stared back at me. I’ll never forget its eyes; dark, almost like empty sockets. Its cold gaze washed over me, as if it was sizing me up. Then it slowly started to move toward me. I was almost paralyzed by fear, but was able to get back in the house. I locked the door behind me, and rushed to my parents’ room. They were convinced I had a nightmare. But I know the truth. This was the first time I had fully seen the creature that would soon push me to the brink of insanity.

I didn’t see that thing again for quite some time. I started to think that maybe my parents were right, and it was just a dream. I was really sleep deprived after all. But deep down inside, I knew I had seen something. But a few weeks ago I was on some website my friend Derik had recommended. And I saw a picture that shocked me. It was my creature, the one I had seen. The website claimed this creature was called “The Rake,” and that It stalks and mauls its victims. The moment I saw the article my blood ran cold. Could I have really seen this creature? The thought haunted me, refusing to leave my mind.

I saw it again for the first time in months last week. I had woken up in the middle of the night again. Immediately, I felt that something was wrong. The house was too quiet. I felt very unsettled. I got out of bed, walked to the window, and raised the blinds. It was very dark outside, but I could make something out. The creature was outside. Scratching at something on the ground. Immediately I opened the window, and yelled at the thing. It looked up at me, caught my eyes for a moment, then rushed off, crawling on all fours very close to the ground. When i went out to see what it was scratching at the next morning, I found something that still chills me to the bone; the mangled, half-eaten corpse of my dog Zoe. My parents think it was a mountain lion, but I know the truth. The so-called “rake”, that bastard creature, killed my dog.

The last few nights have been terrifying. I’ve woken up in a cold sweat each night, knowing that damned thing is watching me. I feel its presence. I know it wants me now. And I have no idea what to do. I’m terrified beyond belief, and I’m helpless. My parents keep telling me I’m imagining things. But I’m not, dammit! I know what I’ve seen. And I know that it wants me. That’s why I’m writing this down at three in the morning. If anything happens to me, I want people to know what. I’ll update as soon as something else happens.

5/2/11

The last week was a whirlwind of terror. I’m constantly in fear now, I know it’s always watching me. Around every corner everywhere I go. Every night I feel its presence, some nights more than others. I don’t know exactly what it wants from me, but it is wanting something. I saw it again, for the first time in a week today.

I stayed home sick. I still feel like shit. I think it’s making me sick. I was laying on the couch, watching TV. Constantly looking over my shoulders, because I know he’s always watching me. I have a shotgun by my side, a benefit of living in the country. I got it from the garage. It’s loaded, in case the thing which I’ve decided to call the rake tries to attack. I knew it would soon. I heard a noise outside, and cocked my gun. I stepped outside to investigate. Nothing. Dammit. I decided to patrol the perimeter of the house, just in case. Walked all the way around, nothing. I stepped back inside and the smell hit me.

It was the stench of death. Rotting. I held the gun out in front of me. Slowly made my way up the stairs, and turned the corner into my room. It was crouched in the corner, facing away from me. It slowly tilted its head toward me. Then it spoke. It was a high, shrill voice. I’m not sure exactly what it said to me.

I didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. But it moved at almost super human speed, and barreled into me, knocking me down. I saw it jump off of our 2nd floor balcony, to the living room floor. Charged out the door. My arm was bleeding bad, so I grabbed a shirt and pushed it to my arm to try to stop the blood. I rushed outside, the gun still in my hand. It was gone. “GO TO HELL!” I screamed. I stepped back inside. And saw the blood. Not my blood. Its blood. I grabbed the dog it hadn’t killed, Jake. Put his nose to the blood. He picked the scent up and started moving toward the woods near my house. I didn’t think twice, and followed.

We rushed through the woods. Around a mile away from the house, Jake started to whimper. I sent him back. This was my job. I started to explore the area, my finger twitching on the trigger, terrified. After about a half hour of searching I saw something weird. A small area of ground that was different. It seemed covered up. I walked over and swept away the grass. I was right. There was a board under the grass. I pulled up the board, exposing a hole. A rusty old ladder led down. Against all better judgement, curiosity got the best of me. I slung the shotgun over my back, and lowered myself down.

I was in a tunnel. It wasn’t well lit. A few candles. But it was light enough to see the blood smeared walls. The smell was awful. I could see paintings in the blood. Disturbing things. Stuff I never wanted to see. I walked through the toward the source of more light. I could see a sort of room. When I stepped in, I wanted to throw up. There were animal parts all over the floor. On the walls. This must be its feeding room. I turned around, retching. And there it stood, right behind me. It reached toward me. I blacked out.

I woke up in my room, about 30 minutes ago now. Alone. No cut on my arm. No blood anywhere. Decided to write everything while it’s still fresh on my mind. Parents still aren’t home. It’s dark outside. I’m terrified to leave my room now. Maybe it didn’t all happen. Maybe I’m going insane. Paranoia is here to stay. I realize what the rake said in my room now, when he talked to me. It wants sacrifice. Mom, Dad, if you read this after I’m gone, then get the Hell away. I don’t know where to, but just leave this place.

5/7/11

It’s over now. He’s satisfied. Sacrifice is made. And I’m alone.

He was with me three, three, three nights. He just stands next to my bed, watches me, and sometimes he’ll whisper to me. He told me he wanted sacrifice, bloody sacrifice. He said I had to do it. I knew he was right. They don’t matter to me. I can be alone. My parents thought I was going crazy. Little did they know, haha. So last night, I told him, I told him I’d do it. I’d give him a sacrifice, a good good sacrifice, so he will be happy.

I told them to come with me, I wanted to show them a pretty spot I had found. They walked with me, walked to the Rake hole. I opened it up, and pulled out a gun. I told them to go into it. They asked what was I doing, and I told them he wanted to see them. They went in the hole, and we walked through the tunnel. She was crying. Then mr. Rake came out of his hiding place. He looked at me, with his black eyes and smiled. Then he killed them. They screamed a little bit. I didn’t care. He was happy now. He pointed at the hole, and I knew it was time to leave.

I’m back home now. All alone, in my dark room. I’m not scared of the dark anymore. I like the dark. It reminds me of my friend the Rake. I’m okay. I’m okay. Dammit I’m not okay. I just led my parents to their death. I’m crazy.

I have the gun to my head now, I’m going to pull the trigger. I’m looking across my room and he’s crouched there, smiling at me. Telling me to do it, that he’s still hungry, wants one more sacrifice. I’m going to give it to him. Goodbye.

4/25/11

I woke up abruptly, sweat dripping from my brow. I could feel the presence again. His presence. I looked around my room. I know I’m being watched. It’s not anywhere to be seen. Damn. This is the third night in a

4/25/11

I woke up abruptly, sweat dripping from my brow. I could feel the presence again. His presence. I looked around my room. I know I’m being watched. It’s not anywhere to be seen. Damn. This is the third night in a row I’ve been awoken like this. The fear is starting to take over my mind. Something out there is stalking me. Something wants me.

But I should back up and tell this from the beginning. I’m sixteen years old, and moved into this house with my family seven years ago. It’s about 30 minutes outside of town, so we’re fairly isolated. My parents love living out here. They say it’s peaceful and pretty. I hate it. Not as much during the day as during the night. I’ve always been scared of the dark. It’s my number one phobia. I hate not being able to see. And out here at night, there’s no light other than the moon and stars. No warm, comforting glow of street lamps. No headlights slowly moving up and down the streets; just a hazy darkness. And it’s especially dark during a new moon.

That’s when I first encountered it. That thing. I had a bunch of friends over, and after dark, we all decided to play some airsoft capture the flag. It was a new moon, which made it especially dark and creepy. No light pierced the inky blackness, except the flashlights on the barrels of our airsoft pistols, and the occasional zip of glow in the dark airsoft pellets, flying at their targets. We were all having a great time. I had grabbed the other team’s flag, and was rushing back to my base, when I heard a sound that made my blood run cold; a scream of terror, coming from about thirty feet to my right. A flash of white was rushing away from the sound. I changed direction, and rushed towards the noise, aiming my flashlight at the source of the sound. My friend Jacob was sitting in the dirt, holding his bleeding leg, obviously in pain. The cut was deep. Another friend, Matt, and I rushed him inside, where we sat on the edge of the bathtub, and began to wash and dress the cut. We asked him what a happened. Some creature had scratched him, he said. He didn’t get a good look at it, but just saw a flash of white. At first I assumed it was just a possum or something. That was before I saw it again.

The second time I was alone. It was the middle of the night, not a new moon thankfully, but still eerie. I had insomnia, a rather common problem for me. It was two a.m. and I had given up all hope of getting any sleep. So I went downstairs to the living room and popped in a DVD. As I lay on the couch, my mind lost in the world of Inception, one of my dogs started barking. I thought nothing of it, barking in the middle of the night is basically a routine for them. Then my other dog joined in, no big deal. But I noticed something. This bark was a lot more menacing than usual. It was more of a guttural, growling bark. The bark dogs make when threatened. I turned on the back porch light, and stepped outside, creeped out. I called for them. “Jake. Zoe. Come here.” Then I saw what they were barking at. It looked like a human, crouched there in the grass. It was probably around four feet tall, with bare, pale skin, and long bony limbs. I studied it for about five seconds and it stared back at me. I’ll never forget its eyes; dark, almost like empty sockets. Its cold gaze washed over me, as if it was sizing me up. Then it slowly started to move toward me. I was almost paralyzed by fear, but was able to get back in the house. I locked the door behind me, and rushed to my parents’ room. They were convinced I had a nightmare. But I know the truth. This was the first time I had fully seen the creature that would soon push me to the brink of insanity.

I didn’t see that thing again for quite some time. I started to think that maybe my parents were right, and it was just a dream. I was really sleep deprived after all. But deep down inside, I knew I had seen something. But a few weeks ago I was on some website my friend Derik had recommended. And I saw a picture that shocked me. It was my creature, the one I had seen. The website claimed this creature was called “The Rake,” and that It stalks and mauls its victims. The moment I saw the article my blood ran cold. Could I have really seen this creature? The thought haunted me, refusing to leave my mind.

I s aw it again for the first time in months last week. I had woken up in the middle of the night again. Immediately, I felt that something was wrong. The house was too quiet. I felt very unsettled. I got out of bed, walked to the window, and raised the blinds. It was very dark outside, but I could make something out. The creature was outside. Scratching at something on the ground. Immediately I opened the window, and yelled at the thing. It looked up at me, caught my eyes for a moment, then rushed off, crawling on all fours very close to the ground. When i went out to see what it was scratching at the next morning, I found something that still chills me to the bone; the mangled, half-eaten corpse of my dog Zoe. My parents think it was a mountain lion, but I know the truth. The so-called “rake”, that bastard creature, killed my dog.

The last few nights have been terrifying. I’ve woken up in a cold sweat each night, knowing that damned thing is watching me. I feel its presence. I know it wants me now. And I have no idea what to do. I’m terrified beyond belief, and I’m helpless. My parents keep telling me I’m imagining things. But I’m not, dammit! I know what I’ve seen. And I know that it wants me. That’s why I’m writing this down at three in the morning. If anything happens to me, I want people to know what. I’ll update as soon as something else happens.

5/2/11

The last week was a whirlwind of terror. I’m constantly in fear now, I know it’s always watching me. Around every corner everywhere I go. Every night I feel its presence, some nights more than others. I don’t know exactly what it wants from me, but it is wanting something. I saw it again, for the first time in a week today.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I stayed home sick. I still feel like shit. I think it’s making me sick. I was laying on the couch, watching TV. Constantly looking over my shoulders, because I know he’s always watching me. I have a shotgun by my side, a benefit of living in the country. I got it from the garage. It’s loaded, in case the thing which I’ve decided to call the rake tries to attack. I knew it would soon. I heard a noise outside, and cocked my gun. I stepped outside to investigate. Nothing. Dammit. I decided to patrol the perimeter of the house, just in case. Walked all the way around, nothing. I stepped back inside and the smell hit me.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">It was the stench of death. Rotting. I held the gun out in front of me. Slowly made my way up the stairs, and turned the corner into my room. It was crouched in the corner, facing away from me. It slowly tilted its head toward me. Then it spoke. It was a high, shrill voice. I’m not sure exactly what it said to me.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. But it moved at almost super human speed, and barreled into me, knocking me down. I saw it jump off of our 2nd floor balcony, to the living room floor. Charged out the door. My arm was bleeding bad, so I grabbed a shirt and pushed it to my arm to try to stop the blood. I rushed outside, the gun still in my hand. It was gone. “GO TO HELL!” I screamed. I stepped back inside. And saw the blood. Not my blood. Its blood. I grabbed the dog it hadn’t killed, Jake. Put his nose to the blood. He picked the scent up and started moving toward the woods near my house. I didn’t think twice, and followed.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">We rushed through the woods. Around a mile away from the house, Jake started to whimper. I sent him back. This was my job. I started to explore the area, my finger twitching on the trigger, terrified. After about a half hour of searching I saw something weird. A small area of ground that was different. It seemed covered up. I walked over and swept away the grass. I was right. There was a board under the grass. I pulled up the board, exposing a hole. A rusty old ladder led down. Against all better judgement, curiosity got the best of me. I slung the shotgun over my back, and lowered myself down.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I was in a tunnel. It wasn’t well lit. A few candles. But it was light enough to see the blood smeared walls. The smell was awful. I could see paintings in the blood. Disturbing things. Stuff I never wanted to see. I walked through the toward the source of more light. I could see a sort of room. When I stepped in, I wanted to throw up. There were animal parts all over the floor. On the walls. This must be its feeding room. I turned around, retching. And there it stood, right behind me. It reached toward me. I blacked out. <span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I woke up in my room, about 30 minutes ago now. Alone. No cut on my arm. No blood anywhere. Decided to write everything while it’s still fresh on my mind. Parents still aren’t home. It’s dark outside. I’m terrified to leave my room now. Maybe it didn’t all happen. Maybe I’m going insane. Paranoia is here to stay. I realize what the rake said in my room now, when he talked to me. It wants sacrifice. Mom, Dad, if you read this after I’m gone, then get the Hell away. I don’t know where to, but just leave this place.

<p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">5/7/11

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">It’s over now. He’s satisfied. Sacrifice is made. And I’m alone.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">He was with me three, three, three nights. He just stands next to my bed, watches me, and sometimes he’ll whisper to me. He told me he wanted sacrifice, bloody sacrifice. He said I had to do it. I knew he was right. They don’t matter to me. I can be alone. My parents thought I was going crazy. Little did they know, haha. So last night, I told him, I told him I’d do it. I’d give him a sacrifice, a good good sacrifice, so he will be happy.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I told them to come with me, I wanted to show them a pretty spot I had found. They walked with me, walked to the Rake hole. I opened it up, and pulled out a gun. I told them to go into it. They asked what was I doing, and I told them he wanted to see them. They went in the hole, and we walked through the tunnel. She was crying. Then mr. Rake came out of his hiding place. He looked at me, with his black eyes and smiled. Then he killed them. They screamed a little bit. I didn’t care. He was happy now. He pointed at the hole, and I knew it was time to leave.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I’m back home now. All alone, in my dark room. I’m not scared of the dark anymore. I like the dark. It reminds me of my friend the Rake. I’m okay. I’m okay. Dammit I’m not okay. I just led my parents to their death. I’m crazy.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I have the gun to my head now, I’m going to pull the trigger. I’m looking across my room and he’s crouched there, smiling at me. Telling me to do it, that he’s still hungry, wants one more sacrifice. I’m going to give it to him. Goodbye.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">row I’ve been awoken like this. The fear is starting to take over my mind. Something out there is stalking me. Something wants me.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">But I should back up and tell this from the beginning. I’m sixteen years old, and moved into this house with my family seven years ago. It’s about 30 minutes outside of town, so we’re fairly isolated. My parents love living out here. They say it’s peaceful and pretty. I hate it. Not as much during the day as during the night. I’ve always been scared of the dark. It’s my number one phobia. I hate not being able to see. And out here at night, there’s no light other than the moon and stars. No warm, comforting glow of street lamps. No headlights slowly moving up and down the streets; just a hazy darkness. And it’s especially dark during a new moon.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">That’s when I first encountered it. That thing. I had a bunch of friends over, and after dark, we all decided to play some airsoft capture the flag. It was a new moon, which made it especially dark and creepy. No light pierced the inky blackness, except the flashlights on the barrels of our airsoft pistols, and the occasional zip of glow in the dark airsoft pellets, flying at their targets. We were all having a great time. I had grabbed the other team’s flag, and was rushing back to my base, when I heard a sound that made my blood run cold; a scream of terror, coming from about thirty feet to my right. A flash of white was rushing away from the sound. I changed direction, and rushed towards the noise, aiming my flashlight at the source of the sound. My friend Jacob was sitting in the dirt, holding his bleeding leg, obviously in pain. The cut was deep. Another friend, Matt, and I rushed him inside, where we sat on the edge of the bathtub, and began to wash and dress the cut. We asked him what a happened. Some creature had scratched him, he said. He didn’t get a good look at it, but just saw a flash of white. At first I assumed it was just a possum or something. That was before I saw it again.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">The second time I was alone. It was the middle of the night, not a new moon thankfully, but still eerie. I had insomnia, a rather common problem for me. It was two a.m. and I had given up all hope of getting any sleep. So I went downstairs to the living room and popped in a DVD. As I lay on the couch, my mind lost in the world of Inception, one of my dogs started barking. I thought nothing of it, barking in the middle of the night is basically a routine for them. Then my other dog joined in, no big deal. But I noticed something. This bark was a lot more menacing than usual. It was more of a guttural, growling bark. The bark dogs make when threatened. I turned on the back porch light, and stepped outside, creeped out. I called for them. “Jake. Zoe. Come here.” Then I saw what they were barking at. It looked like a human, crouched there in the grass. It was probably around four feet tall, with bare, pale skin, and long bony limbs. I studied it for about five seconds and it stared back at me. I’ll never forget its eyes; dark, almost like empty sockets. Its cold gaze washed over me, as if it was sizing me up. Then it slowly started to move toward me. I was almost paralyzed by fear, but was able to get back in the house. I locked the door behind me, and rushed to my parents’ room. They were convinced I had a nightmare. But I know the truth. This was the first time I had fully seen the creature that would soon push me to the brink of insanity.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I didn’t see that thing again for quite some time. I started to think that maybe my parents were right, and it was just a dream. I was really sleep deprived after all. But deep down inside, I knew I had seen something. But a few weeks ago I was on some website my friend Derik had recommended. And I saw a picture that shocked me. It was my creature, the one I had seen. The website claimed this creature was called “The Rake,” and that It stalks and mauls its victims. The moment I saw the article my blood ran cold. Could I have really seen this creature? The thought haunted me, refusing to leave my mind.

<span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I s <span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">aw it again for the first time in months last week. I had woken up in the middle of the night again. Immediately, I felt that something was wrong. The house was too quiet. I felt very unsettled. I got out of bed, walked to the window, and raised the blinds. It was very dark outside, but I could make something out. The creature was outside. Scratching at something on the ground. Immediately I opened the window, and yelled at the thing. It looked up at me, caught my eyes for a moment, then rushed off, crawling on all fours very close to the ground. When i went out to see what it was scratching at the next morning, I found something that still chills me to the bone; the mangled, half-eaten corpse of my dog Zoe. My parents think it was a mountain lion, but I know the truth. The so-called “rake”, that bastard creature, killed my dog.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">The last few nights have been terrifying. I’ve woken up in a cold sweat each night, knowing that damned thing is watching me. I feel its presence. I know it wants me now. And I have no idea what to do. I’m terrified beyond belief, and I’m helpless. My parents keep telling me I’m imagining things. But I’m not, dammit! I know what I’ve seen. And I know that it wants me. That’s why I’m writing this down at three in the morning. If anything happens to me, I want people to know what. I’ll update as soon as something else happens.

<p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">5/2/11

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">The last week was a whirlwind of terror. I’m constantly in fear now, I know it’s always watching me. Around every corner everywhere I go. Every night I feel its presence, some nights more than others. I don’t know exactly what it wants from me, but it is wanting something. I saw it again, for the first time in a week today.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I stayed home sick. I still feel like shit. I think it’s making me sick. I was laying on the couch, watching TV. Constantly looking over my shoulders, because I know he’s always watching me. I have a shotgun by my side, a benefit of living in the country. I got it from the garage. It’s loaded, in case the thing which I’ve decided to call the rake tries to attack. I knew it would soon. I heard a noise outside, and cocked my gun. I stepped outside to investigate. Nothing. Dammit. I decided to patrol the perimeter of the house, just in case. Walked all the way around, nothing. I stepped back inside and the smell hit me.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">It was the stench of death. Rotting. I held the gun out in front of me. Slowly made my way up the stairs, and turned the corner into my room. It was crouched in the corner, facing away from me. It slowly tilted its head toward me. Then it spoke. It was a high, shrill voice. I’m not sure exactly what it said to me.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. But it moved at almost super human speed, and barreled into me, knocking me down. I saw it jump off of our 2nd floor balcony, to the living room floor. Charged out the door. My arm was bleeding bad, so I grabbed a shirt and pushed it to my arm to try to stop the blood. I rushed outside, the gun still in my hand. It was gone. “GO TO HELL!” I screamed. I stepped back inside. And saw the blood. Not my blood. Its blood. I grabbed the dog it hadn’t killed, Jake. Put his nose to the blood. He picked the scent up and started moving toward the woods near my house. I didn’t think twice, and followed.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">We rushed through the woods. Around a mile away from the house, Jake started to whimper. I sent him back. This was my job. I started to explore the area, my finger twitching on the trigger, terrified. After about a half hour of searching I saw something weird. A small area of ground that was different. It seemed covered up. I walked over and swept away the grass. I was right. There was a board under the grass. I pulled up the board, exposing a hole. A rusty old ladder led down. Against all better judgement, curiosity got the best of me. I slung the shotgun over my back, and lowered myself down.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I was in a tunnel. It wasn’t well lit. A few candles. But it was light enough to see the blood smeared walls. The smell was awful. I could see paintings in the blood. Disturbing things. Stuff I never wanted to see. I walked through the toward the source of more light. I could see a sort of room. When I stepped in, I wanted to throw up. There were animal parts all over the floor. On the walls. This must be its feeding room. I turned around, retching. And there it stood, right behind me. It reached toward me. I blacked out. <span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I woke up in my room, about 30 minutes ago now. Alone. No cut on my arm. No blood anywhere. Decided to write everything while it’s still fresh on my mind. Parents still aren’t home. It’s dark outside. I’m terrified to leave my room now. Maybe it didn’t all happen. Maybe I’m going insane. Paranoia is here to stay. I realize what the rake said in my room now, when he talked to me. It wants sacrifice. Mom, Dad, if you read this after I’m gone, then get the Hell away. I don’t know where to, but just leave this place.

<p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">5/7/11

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">It’s over now. He’s satisfied. Sacrifice is made. And I’m alone.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">He was with me three, three, three nights. He just stands next to my bed, watches me, and sometimes he’ll whisper to me. He told me he wanted sacrifice, bloody sacrifice. He said I had to do it. I knew he was right. They don’t matter to me. I can be alone. My parents thought I was going crazy. Little did they know, haha. So last night, I told him, I told him I’d do it. I’d give him a sacrifice, a good good sacrifice, so he will be happy.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I told them to come with me, I wanted to show them a pretty spot I had found. They walked with me, walked to the Rake hole. I opened it up, and pulled out a gun. I told them to go into it. They asked what was I doing, and I told them he wanted to see them. They went in the hole, and we walked through the tunnel. She was crying. Then mr. Rake came out of his hiding place. He looked at me, with his black eyes and smiled. Then he killed them. They screamed a little bit. I didn’t care. He was happy now. He pointed at the hole, and I knew it was time to leave.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I’m back home now. All alone, in my dark room. I’m not scared of the dark anymore. I like the dark. It reminds me of my friend the Rake. I’m okay. I’m okay. Dammit I’m not okay. I just led my parents to their death. I’m crazy.

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I have the gun to my head now, I’m going to pull the trigger. I’m looking across my room and he’s crouched there, smiling at me. Telling me to do it, that he’s still hungry, wants one more sacrifice. I’m going to give it to him. Goodbye.