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Lately, I’ve been listening to a lot of radio. FM mostly, but I occasionally will tune into some AM stations. I live in Ontario, Canada, just about 50 kilometers north of Ottawa, Canada's capital, in a small farming community, so there really aren’t a lot of stations up here. But enough to keep you satisfied. I’ll go on long drives around empty roads just to listen to the radio. It's some of the best times I’ve had up here. I especially love listening to the AM stations where they talk about the universe, religion, nature, and mysteries and such.

One night, I decided to go on another drive and listen to the radio. It was 6:00 PM and fall, so it was getting dark. I brought a flashlight and my cell in case anything was to go wrong, then got in my Escape, drove out of my driveway, and turned on the radio.

Flipping through the stations, I came across one that was mostly static, but I could make out a faint voice. Curious, I decided to drive down a road I hadn’t been on before to see if the signal would get stronger. Lo and behold, I was right. As it became clearer, I heard that the voice was a man’s. Although it sounded like a different language. The only languages we have here are the slang farmers use, and English (which is similar, ha-ha).

I drove down this road as the sun went down. The signal became clearer, but at the same time, the dark of night was beginning to flow out of the sky and onto the road. I recognized the language; it sounded Russian (thanks to my Russian history class I took). The man sounded scared. I could hear him yelling, but he wasn’t directly at the microphone. He was in the room, yelling for his life. Perhaps a loyal talk show host, still explaining to the listeners what was happening to him? But what was happening to him?

I drove for about 10 minutes listening to this, when I started to hear him scream. I jumped up out of my seat as I heard how loud it was, then quickly turned down the volume. At the same time, I tried to hear what he was screaming. It was the exact same thing over and over. It sounded like he was saying "My ruki!". I had no idea what that meant, but whatever it was, he seemed shocked about it. I eventually got so disturbed that I switched the radio off completely and turned my car around. I was ready to go back home.

As I was turning my car around, I heard a faint sound in the distance. I cautiously rolled down my window and realised how deathly familiar it was. It was the man, screaming. I thought to myself that he must be in trouble, and that I needed to help him. But what if he was being killed? Or questioned by someone and tortured? I began to feel sick. Either way, I didn't want to be part of whatever was going on there.

But then I remembered that I had been chopping some wood yesterday for my parents, and had forgotten to put the axe I used back in my toolshed. I got out of my car with my flashlight in my hand and my cell in my pocket. I opened the trunk and picked through the junk until I found the thing.

“Am I really doing this?” I thought to myself. “Am I really going to take this axe and kill off whatever is in there…?”

I hadn’t wanted to be a part of this in the first place. But I was the only soul around, and that man needed help. It couldn't have been a coincidence that I happened to be around listening to the radio station he was broadcasting on. Luck was on his side.

I began running down the road, illuminating my view with my flashlight. I soon came to a dead end, a small hill stopping the road in its tracks.

“I’m getting closer,” I thought to myself.

I climbed up the hill and saw a small building with a radio antennae on its roof in the near-distance, with one lit window. I crouched and began to watch, as I had heard the noise stop while going up the hill.

For five minutes, I heard absolutely nothing. He must have died; there was nothing I could do now. I decided that I’d go back to my car, call 911, and explain to them what happened.

Then, for a split second, I caught something in the corner of my eye. Scared but curious, I decided to look back at the shack. Something was in front of the lit window. Just standing there. I couldn’t make out what it was, but it wasn’t moving. A chill ran down my spine as I realized it had noticed me. I was frozen in fear; I couldn’t move. It let out a terrible scream as it began to move towards me.

I got up and ran back, leaving the axe there. I arrived at my car and didn’t bother to call the cops. Whatever it was, I had little confidence a cop would help. I drove back at speeds of about 50km on a 20km road. When I made it to my house, I got out and ran to the door. I opened it, locked it, and proceeded to run to the guest bedroom in the basement, then closed the door and shut my eyes.

I woke up feeling extremely cold. I must have forgotten to turn on the furnace. I went upstairs and saw that my door was in fact open. I was paralyzed with fear, but decided to look outside.

What I saw was a pale creature on two legs at the end of my driveway, holding a large burlap sack over its shoulder that looked like it was stuffed with body parts. It turned around and glared at me, then proceeded to grin and walk down my street, cackling with laughter.

I closed the door and didn’t bother locking it, then went to the kitchen and saw a bag and a piece of paper. I read what was written on it.

“LOOKS LIKE YOU HAD FORGOTTEN SOMETHING,” with the thing's face crudely drawn on the paper. Grinning the same way it had earlier. As for the bag?

Inside it was the axe I had left on the hill.

Original author unknown

Originally uploaded on July 26th, 2011