The Clicker

To whoever finds this I am dead. If it was the thing outside or the bath with my toaster it doesn’t matter, all you need to know is I am gone and you’re in terrible danger, it needs another hunt, more prey to satisfy its sick craving for blood and human fear. I suppose you’re wondering what I’m talking about, you will know all too well, it’s just a matter of time before it will get you too. It all began with the move, the city was getting me down, all the constricting high rises and sardine tin streets just made me feel crowded and caught up. I just kept tripping over my own feet and needed to get out, back to basics, away from all the hustle and bustle of the city. My prayers were answered when I found the small article on the classified ads page of the local paper. Now how I wish I never looked at that page. It was a wood cabin in the middle of a pine forest in Oregon. I was puzzled at why something this far away would be put in my local paper but when I saw the price I didn’t care anymore. One week later I had bought the property, packed all my nice dresses and was headed for my new home in Oregon. The place was picturesque; a small log cabin surrounded by towering, winding pine trees and redwood, there was even a brook to the east with clear water that flowed from an opening in the grassy hills. It was perfect, only a few miles from the local town (which was easy to spot due to one of the water towers having a giant muffin spray painted across the front), internet access and cable TV. I felt I could spend the rest of my life here, little did I know that there was only two weeks left of it. I first realised that something was terribly wrong was just two nights in, the scratching. It started at 10pm on the dot with the sounds of animal claws or sharp metal against wood coming at rhythmic intervals every two minutes (if I sound too precise it’s because this happened every night for almost a week, believe me I had time to analyse), every morning I would wake up and check outside but there were never anything that looked like claw marks, only strange holes that looked like someone had hammered in a nail then pulled it out. All these events troubled me so greatly I couldn’t sleep; I just kept thinking what was making that scratching? Why are there no marks apart from nail holes? Why is the timing so precise? Two days into the first week I got my answer. It was another routine night, scratching at 10pm on the dot when I had finally had enough, I put on a coat grabbed a flashlight and slowly walked my way to the door. As I rounded the corner I saw the most horrifying thing I have seen to this day. There was a… thing stood at my wall, it was hunched, skinny and towering, I saw its vertebrae poking out of its thin ashen skin. The most stunning feature was its head; I can only describe it as looking like the skull of a bird. The creature had one of its taloned fingers imbedded in a large piece of bark and with its other hand it was clawing it making rhythmic scraping and scratching. The creature noticed me almost as soon as I noticed it, ripping its claw out of the side of my house and getting down on all fours to face me. This is when I noticed how truly massive it was, it was the size of a large bear and was bony and thin, its pure white eyes reflected as the beam from my flashlight met there gaze. I could tell if it had lips it would be grinning. Suddenly it all came to me, this thing was toying with me, it wanted me to feel crazy, using another bit of wood so it wouldn’t damage my house, coming at perfectly times intervals, it was weakening me. After what seemed like hours of staring into those cold white, eyes the creature let out a low pitched pop then a high chirp and sprinted in the surrounding woods.

It’s watching me even now; I feel its hungry eyes studying me, waiting for me to slip up, go outside, and embrace its ravenous presence. It’s been 2 weeks since I last left the house and it has cut the power to the house. I’m running out of food, going outside would be a death sentence, slow and painful; I am sure to hell not giving that thing another meal. Remember you’re in its neck of the woods, in its domain, maybe you can call for help, maybe you can get out. It is too late for me.

I have to go now, the bath is almost full and the creature is on the porch, now or never I suppose.