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They’re everywhere. Sometimes, they just choose to let you see them.

He crawled into the hospital on his hands and knees that day, soaked in his own blood, his wild eyes darting quickly from left to right. He reached out for people, grasping at thin air like a madman. It was a quiet night and he quickly caught the attention of the doctors.

His mutilated body was so distorted people didn’t dare look at him. Two men grabbed his arms and legs and hurled him onto a stretcher. Then, he stopped. The man was still; he just stared at the ceiling silently.

All of a sudden he jolted up, shaking violently. He grasped a doctor’s hand and began muttering gibberish. Co-workers stood in absolute shock. With some ungodly strength he crushed the doctor's hand, his bones could be heard snapping.

Finally, he fell back onto the stretcher. Still once more. And as abruptly as it had started, it stopped. With his last breath he whispered, “They are everywhere. Sometimes they just choose to let you see them.”

To this day, no one knows what happened to that poor man, but it has never happened since.



Written by RV09
Content is available under CC BY-SA

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