Don't Be Afraid of the Dark

I dont know how long I have to write this. My name is John. I work for the New York Police Department. A few months ago, I was called to a scene near Central Park.

The man was slumped against a wall; his eyes gouged out and three claw marks in near perfect symmatry going from his left shoulder to his right hip, and almost deep enough to have cut him in half. The entire scene was void of blood and bodily fluids. No items were found. Above his body, agaist the wall, was a messege simply stating 'The Sins Must Be Cleansed'. It appeared to be in a blood-like substance. I pulled over a co-worker to see it; but he stated that nothing was there. I came to that site twice a day for a week, and it was still there.

This happened twice more in the coming months; both with clear, violent homocides; one with a suspected sword, and the other with a bludgeon or mace; their skull crushed with unmatchable force. With each one, they each said the same. All were void of blood. With each one, I kept noticing more and more.

After the first one, I noticed that the night seemed darker and shadows deepened. I saw red clearly through other colors.

After the second, I began hallucinating; faces staring at me through bushes and eyes in the trees, the like. I saw counseling, but nothing helped. I kept on going.

After the third, though, things started getting strange.

In the shadows, I would see little; almost goblin like creatures, pitch black with huge, yellow eyes, gazing and unforgiving. Their bodies were unnaturally thin; they seemed to be able to squeeze through any gap. Their fingers were cold and sharp. With each body, I saw more and more; they increased around graveyards and one to three AM.

I started carrying weapons; pistols, swords, butterfly knives, anything.

A week ago, I saw one of them murder.

I was just walking to work. It was a clear, sunny day; I thought I was safe. Out of nowhere, a flash of darkness caught my eye and a quick scream. Down the street, one of them had taken advantage of a street vender; rending him with his claws and splitting his chest cavity open, splitting his head with its unforgiving void of a mouth.

I wasn't scared in the least. I knew these things had to be the cause of it.

I think I am next. One of them is watching me right now, perched in the corner of the room, and I fear more are outside. A sword my grandfather gave me before he died as well seems to keep them at bay. I don't know how much longer I have. I have thought of getting myself put into solitary confinement; but that would only increase my paranoia.

Please, help me, and know that if you should see them, to run; run until you cannot run anymore, but it will never work.

They are already with you.

They always have been.

You cannot escape them.