Painting the Walls Red

6th April 1983

Diary.

Old woman by the name of Cynthia Droug came skipping into my office this morning, with a rather childlike expression on her face. She sat down on my desk and whispered in my ear, 'I want to tell you my story tomorrow'. Then giggled and left my office. Rather creepy I must admit but my colleagues told me that there is nothing to worry about and that she comes and goes whenever she pleases. Phoning up beforehand to book an appointment, and scaring the other doctors by whispering to them some weird line like, 'Hear my story' or 'He is coming for you'. One person who heard it is in an institute right now, though he had underlying health problems and must have had nothing to do with Cynthia's story.

It pains me to say it but I am rather curious about this 'story'. So the next time - if there is a next time - then I will ask her to come and tell me her story.

Dr. Robert Smither.

Extra Note: I think she must be suffering from Bipolar or Schizophrenia, would be a rather good thing if I could diagnose her and get the woman some help.



7th April 1983

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Diary.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Cynthia kept to her promise and came into my office this morning to tell me her 'story'. Though she did not tell me straight away, she just stood in front of my desk staring at me with a weird little smile on her face, as if she knew something that I did not. It took over a minute until she finally started speaking. It was fortunate for her that I had not decided to kick her out!

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Anyway, she said to me that over the next five days she would come tell her story.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">So with a smile she began, 'He came to me in the middle of the night when I was twenty-seven or something. And honestly I was scared at first, I mean Scratchy' - that is what she called whatever the thing was - 'was a horrible looking creature, still is', she giggled to herself and then cautiously looked around the room.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Then with a wave of her hand she carried on, 'You see he reassured me, good old Scratchy and said "I want to play with you". Well immediately I played with him and I haven't looked back since! He is really nice and if you worship him he will make all the bad things go away...But if you don't well then he will hurt you...He hasn't hurt me but he has commented on how he has harmed others who tried to run away. I mean there was this one man who didn't want to play with Scratchy anymore and he was sliced in half! Well that’s me done, I'll be back tomorrow.' She suddenly ended rather cheerily and skipped out of the room before I could stop her.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">I guess she said she would tell me the story over five days.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Dr Robert Smither.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">8th April 1983

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Diary.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Well today Cynthia came round to my house in the early hours of the morning, which rather frightened me. Firstly now she knows where I live - must be stalking me - and secondly she was stood on my bed. Fortunately I am not married.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">She leapt of my bed and said something about Scratchy wanting to play with her all day. So she decided to come here at this time, so not to anger him, and tell me what this 'Scratchy' looks like.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">From what I can remember from that conversation - I was half asleep through most of it. This hallucination, creature or whatever you want to call it, had no facial features only three large claw marks across its face. It had no legs and moved itself across the floor with two long arms that had two claws on the end of each wrist. The resulting movement would make a scratching sound across the floor, hence the nickname 'Scratchy'. The skin was stretched and a grey colour and its voice sounded more like birdsong.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Even I laughed at that and had to ask her, 'why would such a horrifying creature have a voice like that?’

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">The look she gave me was nothing any human could give, 'He has that voice because people find birdsong trusting and if his victims trust him then he can devour them.'

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">I shall never forget that part of the conversation.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Dr Robert Smither.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Extra Note: I need to remind myself to get a restraining order on her after this story is done.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">9th April 1983

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Diary.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Cynthia came to my office this morning and simply stared at me for a minute before leaving.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">So much for her telling me her 'story'.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Dr Robert Smither.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Extra note: I must be going insane I keep hearing 'Worship Him' everywhere.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">10th April 1983

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Diary.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Worship him. Worship him. Worship him.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">11th April 1983

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Worship him. Worship him....

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">17th April 1983

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Diary.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sorry the last five pages have been covered with the words 'Worship him'. But I can finally see now why Cynthia plays with him. He is so much fun! I can tell you the day after Cynthia did all that staring (fun fun fun) Scratchy visited me. And I was scared at first but then he said 'Don't be scared you're my friend'. I immediately smiled and nodded. We played all night; I haven't slept for a week! Why did I even sleep? Sleep is boring, when you can play play play!

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Even Cynthia came to me yesterday and we painted the walls with a beautiful array of colours, especially red! Unfortunately Cynthia is dead now, I woke up and she was torn apart her organs were everywhere. The police came round to see me and punished me...

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">What did I do? I only painted the walls red...

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Now I am in a mad place, no one knows who Scratchy is. And it’s so sad without him. Least they let me keep this diary.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Well all I have to do is wait for Scratchy to play with me.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Rob.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">18th April 1983

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Diary.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">He came back! Last night it was! We had so much fun, and he painted the walls red. Yay red is my favourite colour! Though a lot of the patients have gone missing... I can't see why...

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Though I did ask him why he did all this.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">And he simply said, 'You remember that mysterious scratching sound you can sometimes hear in your room. That one you want to put down to just the cat or dog, but you know it isn't. You know it is far more terrifying, for more dangerous. But you are too scared to open your eyes, because every man, woman and child knows that I am come for them. And if they open their eyes, then I shall play with them and make them paint the walls red.'

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Rob.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">If there are any other diary entries reporting about this creature then they are either destroyed or unreadable, because of a thick red paint that covers the rest of the pages.