A Request for Help

I have to post this story everywhere I can. If enough people see it, maybe a few of you will understand what has happened to me. That’s all I need. Someone has to understand.

The shoes were on my couch this morning, pressing into the cushion like there was a whole person’s weight on them. I would burn them, but I don’t want to get close. When I called my friends about it, they just laughed at me, like I’m trying to string them along with some stupid joke. They’re too busy to come over anyway, since it’s so close to finals week.

That leaves me alone with these shoes.

Here’s what happened – the whole process. I should write it down so that maybe some people out there might see the logic in it. Maybe there’s a chance that some of you have heard about it before. But please, do not attempt to do this yourself. It’s terrible and it’s real and I just want people to understand what I’m going through.

Last semester, a guy in my theology class was talking about some Pagan traditions – power words and special witch recipes and stuff of that sort. He knew a lot on account of it being the subject for his term paper. But he told me he knew even more, that he’d done some “extra research” in an archive at the city library. He found records of a ritual that supposedly hadn’t been put in practice since the 1600s. And he told me the steps.

This brings me back to the shoes. They had to be 11 inches in length, about the length of most size 11 men’s shoes. The type of shoe didn’t matter, as far as he knew. They were to be placed on a basement floor at least one story underground, with the heels together and the toes pointed somewhere about 30 degrees apart. I really don’t get why any of these details mattered – maybe some of you guys out there will understand it better. Still, I did exactly as the rules said. I just wanted to see if anything might happen. I even snapped a picture of the shoes on my phone, just in case. Hopefully you guys can see it here. There was one other item I had to bring: a large pitcher full of dirt. I took it from my backyard and brought it downstairs with me – feeling stupid for going through with this. After placing the shoes, I spread the dirt around them in a thick circle. Exactly how thick wasn’t specified, so I just made it about a few inches around on all sides.

As I spread the dirt, I repeated this sort of “chant” that the guy had told me: “Wake up, Mr. Strider. Wake up, Mr. Strider.” For the life of me I can’t think of a single person with the name Strider. It’s a weird name, but I said it anyway.

So then after putting down all the dirt, I sat with my back to the circle like he told me to. There couldn’t be any lights on, he said, except fire, and I wasn’t about to smoke out my basement with a bunch of burning logs, so all I had were a few candles.

I don’t know why I went through with this. I didn’t even know that guy very well and now I’m freaking out. They were on my couch this morning.

Okay. Here are the next steps that I took. I waited in the dark for what might have been about five minutes – but I’m not sure. That’s the point: the guy told me I had to wait until I began losing my sense of time. That’s when the “magic” can happen, so he said. If you hear noise, or feel movement, the rule is to hold your breath for at least ten seconds. If you hold your breath long enough to leave the room and walk upstairs, then you can end the ritual. I didn’t hear or feel anything at the time, so I sat there. I just kept waiting.

Once the time passed, there were only a few more steps. I asked, “Are you awake, Mr. Strider?” I paused for a few seconds after, and then I looked over my shoulder.

The guy said that if the dirt looked like it was moved, I was supposed to turn back away as fast as I could and hold my breath. He didn’t say that there might be a pair of legs attached to the shoes – which was exactly what I saw.

The legs were not human. They were deformed, and slick from some sort of fluid. The skin was gray, with what looked like pieces of bone poking out. It makes me nauseous, just remembering what little I saw.

I forgot to hold my breath. I just ran upstairs and shut the door. I swear I heard another set of steps following me. Maybe I should have just called the police right that instant. It was just so dark down there that I convinced myself I was imagining stuff from the shadows.

Now I know I wasn’t imagining it. I should have gotten help from the start. I came home late last night, and after turning off the kitchen light when I was done making dinner, I saw them in the doorway. Until that moment, I’d convinced myself I was just being stupid. That’s when I knew I was fucking cursed. Something’s inhabiting those shoes, and I don’t have a damn clue how to stop it. I’m too scared to get close. Even when I don’t see them, I can hear movements sometimes – steps that sound heavier than mine.

It doesn’t seem to care whether it’s dark anymore. The light was streaming in through my windows this morning, and it was just waiting for me, planted on the couch. There’s been imprints on the carpeting in weird places, the kind that come when something really heavy is sat in one spot for a long time.

I’m sitting in the bathroom right now, and I swear I can see a patch of darkness under the crack in the door. It’s probably standing right outside.

I don’t want to sleep here tonight. I’m scared I’ll wake up to this thing pressing down on my chest. It could break right through my ribs and fucking crush me. I really don’t know.

My best bet is to relocate, probably, but it’s not like this thing is confined to my house. I don’t even have a clue where it’ll show up next. It could appear at my neighbor’s back door if it wanted to, or my friend’s.

If anyone reading this knows what exactly I’ve done, please tell me. I know I’ve made a mistake, but if there’s a way to stop what’s happening, I have to find out. I need help.

There’s one more thing I have to say to all of you: do not try this yourself, ever. The entity that is attracted to this ritual, this “Mr. Strider” thing – whatever the fuck it is, it’s not here out of goodwill. It is malignant and persistent and terrifying. I only saw a part of it for an instant, but even that brief glimpse of its legs was enough to know that I had a reason to fear it.