The First Letters
Let me start off by saying that I am, by no means, famous. I still don’t know what is happening to this day. I am currently hiding somewhere in California where I hope that they won’t be able to find me. Right now, hiding in the big states is the only thing I can do, as I have to stay safe in numbers by hiding among the sea of people in big cities.
There is no telling what may happen to me if I were to be found, and just how far these psychos would take things. I don’t even know how many of them are in it on this, and the only thing I could do now is to report it to the police, and anonymously share it on the internet to raise awareness. Whatever is going after me is definitely not human.
Well, I guess it’s useless if I keep ranting about my current situation. I should start by telling you what happened on that Wednesday.
I’m from the small, but densely populated state of Massachusetts. Massachusetts is where the good jobs, good schools, and a city where it’s hard not to be decently rich. I have a nice house between the cities of Boston and Hartford. I received the daily mail there, and it was ads for grocery stores, and 10% off coupons that I find pretty useless unless you absolutely are addicted to bananas, apples, and pickles. There are a few envelopes from companies trying to get customers, and a few things about my healthcare. I saw that there was one envelope that had my name handwritten in flawless cursive on the back, and the return address was from somewhere in rural Texas. I opened that letter.
Dear Mr. J
We are the biggest fans of your works! We just want you to know that we love seeing you out there and doing these amazing things. We aspire to be like you one day.
-Your fan club (J’s Fanclub)
All of a sudden, I had a fan club? I figured that this was cool, and that I am actually known somewhere. However, the thing is that, I don’t work in the music, writing, humanitarian, or showbiz industry. I have absolutely no idea what it’s about because I’m just a normal person like everyone else. My job is within a large company, but it’s not enough to get fame of any sort. I thought that the sender simply sent this letter to the wrong person, and some celebrity probably has the same name as me.
The thing that stumped me was that, if you were to send fan mail to a celebrity, wouldn’t you have to research their address, and make sure that you are sending it to the right person? I shouldn’t disclose my name right now, but Massachusetts doesn’t have a whole lot of celebrities, and the ones that share a similar name with me are nowhere near this state. I figured that this was simply a mistake from a kid who simply missent a letter to their favorite artist. Well, I guess I was wrong.
The next day, there was more mail for me, and this time, there were 3 of them from my “fan club”. 2 of the letters were in rural Texas, and the 3rd one was from Bakersfield, California. The letters were along the lines of, “Hi, we’re your biggest fans,” or “Thank you for inspiring me!” Now, it can’t be possible for multiple people to mistake me for a celebrity right? Especially, when there are literally none living around me, and my name isn’t even out there. This is when I felt that something was off. This isn’t enough for me to go up to the police with, but it is enough for me to stay alert and expect more letters.
Another strange thing was that there was something I had previously overlooked on the first letter. There was a website for the fan club.
The link was handwritten in red ink, and I grabbed my laptop to search it up. The website itself looked so professional, and there were buttons that trigger animations that let you access different parts of it. The homepage had a white and blue aesthetic and it had my name everywhere. The front had, “Welcome to J’s Fan club” in huge bold font. There were no pictures of me, just my name, and my middle initial.
No matter how nice all this is, and how non-threatening this all seemed, I just can't get over how creepy this is. I literally live alone, and I don’t do any work that involves the media, or getting my name known. Yet, there are people in these random places in the middle of nowhere who somehow know who I am, and what I do.
I figured that everyone, or at least many people have fan clubs like these, and they simply don’t know about it.
Well, the more I thought about that idea, it made less and less sense and it looks like I’m the only one who is somehow famous without ever being famous?
I’m supposed to fly to New York for the weekend and have a little vacation there because my job is off for 4 days due to holidays. I packed my bags that day, and flew down to a hotel in the big city of NYC, Times Square.
Prior to leaving, I put up a sign up on my door to let the UPS, FedEx, or the mailman know that I’m out of town and to stack any mail that I have. I have alerts on my phone for whatever comes to my house in Massachusetts, and I know exactly what is at my doorstep.
Now, I kept checking that website, and nothing happened there during my vacation. However, I received dings for things from the delivery people that a package has arrived at my door. I got on the plane and turned off the Wi-Fi on my phone, so I could sleep this whole thing off. It was a 2-3 hour flight, and I felt more or less okay again.
Well, that is until I found the stacks, and stacks of things that were sent to my house. I approached the pile of things, and my phone blew up because I was reconnected to Wi-Fi. There were 17 notifications on my phone which was sent to me in the 2-3 hours that I was on the plane. They were all packages addressed to me from Texas, South Dakota, Wyoming, Montana, and North Carolina. They were t-shirts, and hoodies, and pillowcases that are from the website.
There were probably 20 letters in the mailbox, and there was practically nothing but letters in there. After doing the painstaking job of unboxing all the packages, I took a look on the website, and my blood ran ice-cold.
There were about 30 photos of me from my trip to NYC, and it wasn’t like I was just off to the side, or a quarter of my face in the corner. I was in the middle of each picture, and 20 out of the 30 are taken from probably within a foot or so away from me. The photos were of me at Broadway, the subway, the Twin Tower memorial, and on a boat to see the Statue of Liberty.
I looked at the bottom of the page and it said, “Did you enjoy your trip?”
I took this down to the police station, and they told me that they were going to put my neighborhood on high surveillance. However, for me, I didn’t feel like that was enough to stop this from happening.
There was no way that this is an accident now. This is intentional stalking, and harassment. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, but I have to do something about this. Or else it would never end.
More Pictures, and the Florida Incident
You know, I love waking up on winter mornings in slippers, pjs, and a nightcap. When the birds are chirping at 6 AM, but you fall back to sleep for another hour.
This morning was just that. I took a shower, and put on some comfortable clothes to start my day. I was in a good mood, and I thought that today was just one of those days.
Well, I guess that would be too good to be true. I was right.
I entered the living room and I froze on the spot in absolute terror.
There, on the TV stand, were 5 Polaroid cameras, with a bunch of film on the floor. When I picked up the pictures, I could feel my blood go cold, and I started to break out in a cold sweat.
There were about 50 fucking photos of me sleeping all scattered on the floor. Most of them were close-ups, and the rest were from the backyard window.
Of course, they used the damn backyard window to get in. There are no cameras there, and I rushed to the Boston Police Department and demanded to see the street footage after showing them the photos of me being taken.
After checking that I have had a similar complaint recently, they let me check the camera footage from last night. Sure enough, my backyard was one of the blind spots, and seeing that no one appeared on the footage at all during the night, I assumed the culprits escaped through other small blind spots that the cameras couldn’t catch.
I thought that this whole thing would stop after the few dozen packages and letters that I got, but no, they decided to enter my fucking house, and snap photos of me in my sleep.
That was the last straw.
I packed my shit, and I was ready to leave the state. Where am I supposed to go? I plan to stay down at my mother’s property in Florida for a while. My parents are divorced, and life has taken them both on separate paths.
My mom and dad had both written me into their wills to inherit property after they die, and when they died, I get to rent those places out to tenants to make extra money. My dad has a separate place that I inherited and both are able to be rented. However, both houses are vacant, so I was able to escape Boston, and head down to sunny Miami-Dade.
My mom’s house was a little bigger, and with a basement. I unpacked, but I didn’t fully unpack knowing that anything may happen. However, I felt a little more at home since my mom’s house is actually where I grew up. I only moved to Massachusetts because I was fortunate enough to get accepted into their top university to study law, and journalism.
The previous tenants moved out the month before, and they cleaned the area thoroughly before leaving. I placed half of my belongings in the right areas, and by that time, night fell. I grabbed some tea by the counter, and sat there in silence with my thoughts. That moment was short-lived though.
I got my laptop to watch a few videos on Youtube and get my mind off of it, but the tab to the fan club website was still open. I saw that the website was updated, and that there were now multiple pictures of me on the website. I realized that there was more than just the homepage. There was a section called “Photos” which I clicked on.
My eyes widened as I saw that there were probably 500 or so photos of me. A lot of them were recent, including the ones of me when I slept. However, there were pictures of me from kindergarten, and 8th grade which I never knew existed. These photos all had one thing in common.
They were all taken without my knowledge.
Not a single photo had me looking at the camera. I was the center of all the photos, but I never knew that I was being photographed at that moment. In the ones from my childhood, my parents are always in the background, so it can’t be them.
This fan club is not a new thing.
It has always been around.
I just never found out about it, and neither did my parents.
My website surfing stopped abruptly, as I heard some faint tapping on the windows of my mother’s house.
“Hey there,” I heard. I jumped up, and I stared in the kitchen window that was locked with the blinders closed.
“Can I get an autograph?” the voice continued.
“What the fuck, please leave me alone.” I tried to tell them off, and that's when I heard another voice coming from the backyard door.
“Why though? We’re your number 1 fans,” a woman said. I rushed to that door and locked both locks.
“Why won’t you let us in?” that woman said.
I heard tapping from the kitchen window, then the backyard door, then came some more tapping from the front door.
“We tried to tell you with those pictures we took.” The voice from the front door sounded like a teenager, and I decided to lock all the windows, doors, and entrances. Anything that I was able to lock, I locked.
“Leave me alone, please,” I repeated, “What do you want from me? I’m not famous, nor am I well-known. Why are you so obsessed with me?!”
“You are special,” came a 4th voice.
“Just get the fuck away from me!” I was yelling. I called the police at that moment, and in the panic, I bumped my hip into the table. A mug fell off, and shattered into pieces. I was so frantic that I could barely even get a grip on the phone.
“Are you trying to call the police on us?” Another voice, the voice of a man, came through the wall.
“Fuck yes I am, now leave me alone, or in the next 10 minutes I will have you all arrested.
“We came such a long way to find you,” said the woman in the backyard.
“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT!” I was screaming at the top of my lungs. “Go back to Texas, or North Dakota, or wherever the fuck you’re from! Just leave me alone!”
“We came for your autograph, don’t you know?”
“I’m not giving out any autographs, and I will have every one of you sick fucks in jail for this!” I dialed 911 and called the Miami police, and they would be there in 8 minutes.
I heard a ding from my laptop, and I saw that the website was updated. Now, there were even more photos, but as I scrolled to the bottom, I screamed out loud.
There were 5 new pictures of me from tonight that were probably taken a few seconds ago because it showed me calling the police.
The thing that scared me was that the picture was taken inside my house.
They were inside my fucking house.
“Don’t you get it Mr. J? You are special. We simply wanted an autograph for all of us. However, I wished that we didn’t have to do all this, or what we are about to do.”
That’s when I heard the tapping on the windows get progressively louder, until they were basically pounding on the windows of the house.
The banging was so loud that I rushed to get the basement keys. I took my laptop, phone, wallet, car keys into the basement, and I locked up all my valuables in a compartment.
That’s when I heard the glass on the windows of the house shatter.
I heard the splintering of the wood on the front door.
I then heard footsteps progressively getting faster, and that's when I realized that I had no time to lose.
I ran like a madman, into the basement, and locked both locks. I put old furniture against the door to secure it.
Above the basement, the sound of glass breaking, furniture and other things being moved. I heard the door getting broken down completely, and there were footsteps right above me. I put my hands over my mouth and tried not to cry. The footsteps paced up and down the stairs. I can also hear the clicking of Polaroid cameras, and snippets of conversation among the fan club members.
I opened the laptop to see even more photos posted of me drinking tea in the living room just a half hour before, and pictures of the basement door. There was no stopping them. They came from all over the country just to stalk me, and break into my house.
This isn’t cool anymore.
This is a signal, and a message.
All of the pictures, the mail, the packages, and the gifts were telling me something. The thing is that I can’t out-run these people.
They are my “fans,” but fans aren’t supposed to do these things. Fans aren’t supposed to take pictures of you without permission and idolize it when the person isn’t looking. Fans aren’t supposed to be breaking in and threatening the idol. Most importantly, fans aren’t supposed to chase the idol across the country and hunting them down just to get 1 fucking autograph. That simply is not normal. Actually, I guess the phrase “not normal” is a huge understatement in this case.
This is an obsession, but not just any obsession. This is on a scale where people have no limits to what they would do to satisfy their insatiable thirst to get what they want.
Finally, I heard the sound of sirens. The police were here. The members rushed out the door, and I looked out of the peephole to see that they were in the car, and had sped off. The police were here a minute later, and I removed the furniture barricades, and walked out the door.
The police asked me what they looked like, but I couldn’t give them anything on appearance because I shut the blinds, and I can’t see them. However, the police did have extra cameras for us, and the neighborhood surveillance was upgraded due to this incident, and our street will be highly monitored.
However, that wasn’t enough.
I was done with this shit. The only thing is that, I have no idea just how far these people will go, and at this rate, the possibilities are endless.
They are all Monsters
I decided to tell the police how things happened, and asked them to shut down the website. They ended up their department that dealt with internet/virtual crimes, and it was shut down the next day.
I only have one last place left, and that’s my dad’s place. My dad was a good dad, but it was the tight money, and his mental illness or disability that prompted the divorce. I do get sad sometimes thinking about it because I would get nostalgic when I see the house and think of the good times I had with my dad over the summer further north in Carson City, Nevada.
I had to keep running though. Or else, who knows what these people will do to me the next time if I stay still. I hope these ‘fans’ of mine will know that, as long as they keep chasing me, I will always be able to run. The only problem is that I don’t know how long this would last, and just how long they can keep up.
I quit my job at my previous law firm, and had to settle down before I could re-apply for another law firm with similar standards.
I learned my lesson from the past few incidents and I decided to buy surveillance cameras for 2 sides of the house. It was one of those that also had microphones on the outside to let you hear what's going on.
I put one in the front, and another on the side of the house that shows the part I am unable to see via windows. I could see the entire backyard without the assistance of a camera since the bedroom window shows the entire area. There is also an app that I downloaded so that I can check both cameras via phone.
I can’t rely on the police to look over the house for me since they don’t even bother to think about it until something actually happens.
This time, weeks went by without anything happening. When I realized that the whole thing had probably stopped, and that I can kick back a little.
During my stay here, I decided to buy a little wine, and beer for myself to relax and somehow forget about what happened these past few weeks and continue my normal life here in Nevada. Whenever I find it extremely hard to sleep, a few cans of beer would do it. I don’t drink to the point where I get drunk, and absolutely wasted, but enough to get me a little tipsy, so I can sleep. So I downed several cans of beer before I felt fuzzy and collapsed on my bed.
The next day, I opened the upstairs bathroom window a little, and immediately, a disgusting and putrefying smell came through the window. I had no idea what it was, but it was so bad to the point where I had to spray air refreshener everywhere and close the window. The entire outside of the house smelled like rotting meat, and I almost puked. I have no idea what’s out that window.
So, I decided to check out the situation for myself with my phone which connected to the camera.
I opened the camera, and saw nothing in the front of the house. However, I noticed that there was something that was just hanging off of the tall wooden gate that blocked off the backyard.
I zoomed in onto the wooden gate.
It was a human hand.
I frantically opened the next camera, and I screamed.
There were at least 30 people hiding at the side of the house, and the only reason I never saw them before was probably because the wooden gate was tall and blocked the view. Some were standing, and others were laying down. I didn’t recognize any of them.
However, when I zoomed in to get a better look, I finally understood why that part of the house smelled so bad, and I nearly fainted once again.
The ones laying down were rotting, stinking corpses. There were probably about 10 decomposing bodies lying on the floor, and what is even worse is that they seem to have been eaten in certain places. However, I did see that 5 other people who were lying down and were still alive, but injured in the leg. That part of the yard was trashed with chip bags, cans, and food remains.
There were huge chunks of flesh and meat missing from their abdomen and necks. There were also some decapitated with their heads half-eaten, and the inner parts of their brain and face are completely exposed. Most of these bodies have been mangled beyond human form.
There were 2 bodies that have nearly been reduced to bone. I also saw there were 2 pistols that were on the floor next to the bodies. These must have been the weapons used to kill 10 of the 30.
The most horrifying thing was discovered when I rewound the camera footage from last week to today.
The footage showed 30 people all standing at the side of the house, and they were all smiling, and waving at the camera which was on. They were wearing normal street clothes like t-shirts, jackets, and shorts or pants with my name painted on all of their clothing. Their expression remained unwavering. They just kept standing there, smiling with huge, wide grins, and staring at the camera.
This continued for even more time, and I think that these people were even there for longer than a week. No one noticed them as I never looked down there, and no one else can see that part of the property. I watched the footage as they continued to stand there for hours, which turned into days. Day after day, for a week, they were progressively looking more impatient, and they haven’t eaten anything ever since the beginning of the footage.
However, things began to change last night. I saw that after all the waiting, a man at the front looked at the rest of the 29, and told them that he needed to get something from his place.
He returned half an hour with 2 silencer pistols, and a knife. He pointed the gun at random people, and shot 15 of them in the legs with the pistols. He then walked over to the ones he shot, and shot 10 of them once again in the head, execution style.
The man then got the knife, and cut into the dead bodies, and began to eat. He chopped off the intestines, and stomach of a woman, and signaled the others to feast upon their fellow fan club members. This went on for hours, and they continued to eat the corpses.
The footage ended after I sped it up to the present. The 5 people alive were probably spared because the other members were full.
I guess the members remaining found out that I saw them, and they grinned at the camera.
Then, the man that killed the 10 last night walked up to the house wall and looked up at the camera. He grinned a huge grin, and I can see the dried blood on his face and clothes from last night.
“Hello there, Mr. J,” he said.
I just stood there, paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t move, but I can only look through the screen of my phone, and listen to him.
“I’m so sorry about all of this.” His voice was guttural, raspy, and it gave me chills every time he spoke. He was speaking very slowly, and he just continued to look into the camera, and talk.
“We came such a long distance just to find you,” he said. “We also have been standing here for so many days. Ever since you installed that camera, and almost never left the house, we had no choice but to stand here, and wait for your response. However, now that you have seen us, we are overjoyed.”
Some of the fan club members chuckled a little, and widened their grins.
“Please don’t run from us. We are, and always will be your number 1 fans. Aren’t you going to come out to meet us?” Hell no, I am not going to meet them, especially after the Florida incident.
“It’s such a shame that we had to do all of that just to get a few photos of you last time,” he said.
“We love you so much you know. We love you more than your parents have sometimes. You were so adorable as a baby and kid. Our fan club simply wanted to document that, and of course, we have always watched you since birth,” the man continued. “Now that we have found you, we just want to have some….fun with you.”
What happened next is something that I do not wish any other human being to see. I would not wish this sight on my worst enemies. Not even with months of therapy, can I get rid of the sight. It’s even hard for me to describe through words.
The man then grinned so widely that the sides of his lips nearly touched the sides of his eyes. He opened his mouth so wide that I thought that the top part of his face would fall off as it was probably hanging by the little skin he had between his ear and his neck.
I saw rows or sharp teeth, and blood still on his tongue, and all over his teeth. He then laughed the most demonic laugh that I have ever heard. It sounded as if Satan himself was laughing. Afterwards, he closed his mouth, and his grin faded away, and his mouth began to drip with blood. He cocked his head to the side, and walked closer to the camera. The members behind him advanced, and widened their mouths as well, showing their horrific features to me.
That’s when I knew that these things weren’t humans.
They are monsters that will do anything to get what they want, and they know no limits. They don’t care about who they have to hurt, or kill in order to get it. I grabbed my laptop, my suitcase, my phone, and all the valuables I had. I put it all in a bigger suitcase, and booked it to my car.
I heard footsteps getting closer as I jammed my keys into the car door, and locked all the doors as I got into the car. I tried getting the key into the ignition, but I kept missing. I muttered curses under my breath until I finally succeeded in getting the key into the ignition.
However, that’s when I realized that I was surrounded.
All 15 fan club members remaining were there at my car, and rocking it back and forth. I put my car into reverse, and ran over 3 of the members in the back. I switched the gear into drive, and I rode out of there with the 12 other members still chasing me.
I called the police over the phone to simply let them know about what happened. Apparently, the Carson City police already knew what had happened to me when I pulled into the station because I told the police in Florida about my dad’s property and I guess they decided to inform the departments in Nevada.
Now, all 3 places that I was able to escape to were found, and the police have been notified of all 3 incidents. I can’t go into New York, Massachusetts, Florida, Texas, nor can I stay here in Nevada.
I had one choice left, and that was to hop hotels or rent until my mom’s place was fixed up, my dad’s place cleaned up. I also needed my street in Boston to be watched most of the time by the police.
I chose to rent a place somewhere in the big cities of California. If I rent, I wouldn’t be the only person that those things have to deal with since the landlords will definitely be around, or at least watching over the house in some way or form.
I don’t know what’s going to happen this time. I feel bad if they actually show up and my landlord would have to deal with it.
However, I guess that renting is the safest way.
This time, I didn’t take a plane. I drove all the way to the Golden State in my Lexus, and I took all my belongings.
I don’t know how many of those creatures are going to be where I was staying, but if there is one thing that I know about them, it’s the fact that they probably will find me. I might have to run away again to an even bigger city. I can only rely on California and it’s cities to keep me hidden.
I’ve been getting quivers all over my body, and I’ve had to go to the bathroom more often those days. The worst thing was probably when I developed insomnia because I was so paranoid.
I went to the doctors to check me out, and they recommended me to a psychologist. I was diagnosed with clinical anxiety, and I had to be put on meds for my insomnia and the constant bathroom breaks.
Those creatures caused me so many problems that I now have these health problems that can only be cured via therapy.
This time, I can only hope that they don’t find me, and pray to god for my safety which I know is never guaranteed. Especially when I have grinning demons who would do anything, just to stalk me, and satisfy their desires.
On the Run
Now, when I got to California, I rented a highly surveilled 2 story residence that was owned by a very nice couple.
This time, I decided to unpack everything, and apply for a law firm. I trusted this place, and I to my surprise, things were actually fine. I got accepted for a job which meant that I was working once again. I went to therapy on the weekends, and I was thinking that I was finally going to have a normal life once again.
Well, even if I were to lead a normal life, I will never be able to forget what happened to me. Nor will I ever forgive the creatures who have caused me so much pain and distress.
A few weeks went by, and nothing happened. Around this time, I probably would have already been found. I checked my laptop, I saw that the website was long gone, and the stalkings seemed to have stopped.
After a couple months, I was living normally. My insomnia has faded away, and my law firm here actually paid me better than the one in Florida and Massachusetts.
I guess that all good things must come to an end one day. Why do I say this?
That would be because, one day, I was getting in my car when I noticed that there was something in the cup holders at the bottom of the interior car door.
I picked it up, and it was the back of a photo with some coffee stains on it.
Well, when I turned the photo over to see what it was, I could feel my stomach turn. I could feel my breakfast coming right back up my stomach and my esophagus.
The picture was of me in the living room with a cup of coffee. This picture was probably taken last week, and I have no idea how it ended up in my car’s cup holder.
The point is, they have already found me.
Just as I thought I could live normally, those motherfuckers had to come in and ruin it. IT hasn’t even been a year, and a few months is probably the longest I’ve gone this year without these creatures finding me.
I reported this to my landlords who contacted the police, but they hung up the phone and told me that the police said that a simple photograph wasn’t enough which I guess made sense to me. I kind of expected this because I never told the police in Nevada where I was going next, and it was definitely not within their boundaries to watch over me only when they have an entire city to watch. Maybe I’m depending a little too much on the police because some things are beyond their power to do.
So, I decided to buy a handgun. In California, they would have to make sure that guns don’t fall into the wrong hands, but I had no criminal record, and it didn’t worry me. The gun itself cost a few hundred dollars which I can afford now that I’m working again.
Now I felt a bit safer knowing that I had a weapon at my disposal. I made sure to check in with my landlords, who agreed to let me keep it in the house.
Weeks went by without incident, until I got another letter in the mail. There was a piece of paper that was a missing persons flier which showed a missing man and woman. I put that on my bed, and put it in a box for scratch paper.
However, something else fell out. It was another damn letter, and it was with that same return address in rural Texas. I snubbed my nose, and read the letter.
The letter was literally only one sentence that said, “Don’t forget about us.”
Shit, I wish I could forget about them, but they just had to come back. They just absolutely needed my damn autograph and a fan meet & greet which I was absolutely not going to let happen after all they did to me.
As I was about to throw the envelope away, I realized that there was something else in the envelope.
It was a USB and there were the words “we love you,” written on the side. I took the USB, and plugged it into my laptop, and there was a video. It was kind of grainy, and the quality in general wasn’t very good either.
The video showed the person holding the camera running on the sidewalk, and taking all these turns through a neighborhood. The street signs didn’t show because it was nighttime when this happened, and I had no idea where they were.
The film then glitched, and showed the person jogging through a park. Another glitch later, they were back on the streets. After a fourth glitch, the screen went dark, and the video showed a tree in a front yard.
Then, the camera tilted up slowly.
When the video cleared up a little, I realized in horror that the filmer was filming me.
They were filming me behind the tree in the front yard, and I was sleeping.
The camera turned around 180 degrees, until I saw who was filming.
It was that thing from Nevada, and he looked directly into the camera lenses, waved goodbye, and the video ended there.
I don’t want to have to relive this shit for the 4th time, but these psychos are everywhere. I took this down to the police station, and that was enough for them to watch the neighborhood more closely. I know that I shouldn’t depend too much on the police for this, but it's’ the only thing that I can do. I also kept my gun closer to me as I know what to do if situations get dire.
It just keeps coming back, time after time.
Now, today was particularly windy here, and there were a bunch of leaves blowing against the backyard window. However, I noticed that there were no leaves being blown into the backyard. It was paper fluttering in the wind. There were a lot of them too, and I decided to clean it up.
All of these papers had the words “we miss you” written in red ink. This can’t be coincidence, can it? Right after I watched that video, this happened. Now, my paranoia is back, and this time, I don’t think any amount of sleep pills will help.
So, the only rational thing for me to do, was to get some more beer, and liquor. I came back home with some cans of Heineken, and some Tequila.
I took the shot glass, and tried to drink myself to sleep. I drank shot after shot until I felt that fuzzy feeling that allows me to sleep.
However, I kept going until I was 10 shots in. I ended my night like that, completely and utterly wasted. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.
The next morning, I woke up, and thank god that I did this on a Friday as I would have been totally written up for being late. I woke up around lunchtime that day, but I do not regret drinking myself to sleep, because sometimes I do need to do it if I want to forget about those creatures.
I figured that I should also get coconut water for my hangover.
I got into my car once again, and this time, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Upon arriving home, I noticed that there was more mail. This time, there was a small box, and inside the small box were 20 USBs. Every one of them were videos of me drinking just last night. However, all of these people who recorded never showed their faces on film.
This time, I decided that I would confront them because they seem to be coming in smaller numbers than last time, and this time, I have a weapon. I fixed a new sleep schedule which allowed me to stay up later.
I carried my pistol with me, and loaded it. I waited for all the people to arrive. However, instead, I saw the landlords arrive home, and walk through the door.
They didn’t say anything to me and got upstairs.
I finally saw them, a group of 5 people came by, and stood behind the tree. After they knew that I had seen them, they stepped out of the shadows, and grinned at me. I pulled my gun out, and pointed it at them with shaky hands.
“Are you going to shoot us?” one of them said. “We’re your biggest fans.”
“If you step foot in this house, I will pull the trigger.” I threatened them.
“Do we really have to step foot in that house to get a closer look at you?” That same member replied. “Look behind you.”
I turned around and saw absolutely nothing behind me. However, when I looked up, I saw the landlords staring down at me, then giving that same wide grin that the other members were giving me.
I realized then, that I have been duped all this time.
The landlords were members, how could I have not seen that? The pictures of me in the living room, and the fact that they are never home when I am.
“We finally found you after all this time. Who knew that you would pick our house?” the woman said. That’s when I remembered the missing persons flier that showed that man and woman that I got when I received the letter.
I dug through all my scratch paper, and I was horrified to see that the date they went missing was 2 days before I moved in. Their residence was this exact house that I have been living in for 3 months. This missing man and woman were the real landlords.
The couple that were staring and grinning at me from the 2nd floor are fakes.
“What did you do to these people?!” I yelled at the couple.
“You know Mr. J, we have admired you for a long time, and we came from Texas after we heard that you were going to rent this place. About that other couple, we had to….get rid of them before your arrival, because how else are we going to meet you when they’re in the way?” The woman crooned with a smile, and the man just stood there grinning at me.
“When you got here, I found it hard to hold back my excitement and I had to try so hard to keep my composure. We had to wait until the others got here. Now that all of us are here, can we get your autograph?” She snapped a photo of me with her camera.
“No, please, go away! Stay back! You’re all psychos!” I grabbed my gun and pointed it at all of them.
I backed into my room, and locked the door. I began to unpack, and by the time I shoved everything that I had into a suitcase, I looked under the crack of the door.
They were all there.
There were so many of them that I hid in the closet that had 2 sliding doors, and planned to make a run for it. I heard them slowly break down the door into the room, and they scattered all over the room. I watched through a crack in the closet door, and I saw that they were all looking at the closet. They all advanced towards me, and once they opened the closet door.
That’s when I did it. I sprinted through the entrance without looking back and I got my keys, and got into my car in record time. However, the members were fast, and one of them got on top of my car, and started pounding the roof. I hit the gas, and put the car on reverse, then switched it to drive very quickly so that the creature would fall off.
I decided to then grab the gun, open the window, and try to shoot off the creature. I missed all my shots, but they must have scared it enough for it to get off. I got the hell out of there.
I was so mad, and frustrated that I can never breathe without these things watching me. I drove to a faraway hotel, and booked a room for a week. That’s where I am now. It’s been 3 days since this happened, and it’s not stopping.
These creatures aren’t stopping, and they will sacrifice their own just to get what they want and satisfy their twisted goals. They are monsters, and they are not of this earth.
However, even though I am in hiding, and scared for my life, there is one thing that I have kept in my mind that keeps me going and running.
They can find me, but they can never have me in their grasp, because I can run, I can hide, and do whatever it takes because I don’t quit or stop.
I’m a survivor.