That thing is staring at me. I can hear it. I can feel it, staring at me, with cold, dead eyes.

For some reason it's letting me write this. I think it wants people to know that I'm going to die. It was inevitable, but now, as I know it's going to tear my life away, shred by shred, I only feel remorse. My wife, Lucy... Oh God, Lucy, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I let it get to you. I'm sorry I didn't help, please forgive me, there was nothing I could fucking do.

I'm a man, average, mostly. I play video games and lurk 4Chan and Creepypastas when I'm not busy. I'm in my late 20s, Well, not that any of that matters now. I turn my head every few words to see if that fucking thing's moved, but it hasn't. It all started a few minutes ago.

I came home from work after a day of my dickhead boss bitching at me to "Get my shit together or get out," so, naturally, I was pretty grumpy. I decided to lurk 4Chan, namely /x/, the paranormal board, for a bit of entertainment until my wife got home. I found a thread, it was clearly a troll thread because it was people telling each other that "Something was going to kill them," that they had seen it or it killed loved ones. I decided it would be fun to get in on it... But then I heard a creak... It couldn't have been my wife, she wouldn't be home for an hour, at least. My heart stopped. It had to have been an intruder, it wasn't that unlikely. My entire city wasn't the best in terms of safety.

I searched my room for a means of defending myself. The best I could come up with was a walking stick that my dad owned. It was good enough, firm, hard and durable. I reached for my door handle when I realized my hand was shaking. "Pull it together, Michael J Fox..." I whispered to myself. I grabbed the handle and turned it slowly. I've never been a violent person, but I could defend myself from a few unwilling fights at school with a bully or some douchey jock that wanted to act tough in front of his friends. Looking out into the pitch black hallway, darkness enveloped it, it felt as though the darkness would suck me inside. With all the strength I could muster I slowly walked down the stairs into the living room when I realized my own stupidity. It was probably my wife.

I wanted to cry or even laugh at how stupid I had been to get so worked up. I was about to turn around when I looked into the living room and froze. I wanted to scream, vomit and cry. There she was, my dear Lucy, eviscerated with that fucking thing on top of her. It looked like a man but with no features. Long-ish arms with razor-sharp talons on the end and its head... It was fucking huge. The eyes, if I can even call them that were just massive, gaping holes in its face. The mouth was what you would expect a monster to have, big, gaping and riddled with blood-stained, pin-like teeth. It was sort of pink, in colour, like a man. I was just staring in awe, making no movement or sounds at all, when it looked at me.

It turned its head from my love's corpse, and twisted it around to me. Then it stood up. I ran as fast as I could to my room, locked the door and sat in the corner. It was useless, the beast had broken in, I darted beside my computer and the thing just... sat there. It just sat there and watched me until it gestured to the computer. I obeyed, sat down, and began writing this.

Holy shit, it's gone. I can't see it anymore. If you're reading this pl

Police report: Above collected from the computer of the deceased, Mr. Jonathan Stevens, to be accounted as evidence after the victim's mauled remains were discovered in his bedroom following a noise complaint from a neighbor . A large pool of blood not belonging to the deceased was found in the living room. Steven's entry claims that this is where he discovered the late Ms. Lucy Stevens, though no body was recovered at the scene. No evidence of suicide or foul play has been recovered at this time. Case remains unsolved.

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