The Burnt Chronicles/Chapter 4: (Stan) The Blood-Stained Note.

Hope you guys are having fun with this series, here’s chapter 4 🙂

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CHAPTER 4 (STAN McCalister) the Blood-Stained Note

 

It has been a month since the Burnt Iron Killer died, life was easier to handle now, recently me and my son Ryan, have grown closer as a family. We have been going to see movies and even the occasional baseball game at the Diamond Backs stadium. To be honest, I haven’t been the best father in the world; I have always deprived Ryan of a father figure. Every time my wife was mentioned, I would throw a fit. Or the beer that was in my hand. But that was another time. That’s the past, today was a new day, and my day off.

I woke up one morning in my bedroom, and for the first time I felt full of energy. Like everything was going to be ok again. I open my eyes and look outside my window to the left of my bed. My thoughts were practically void of the Burnt Iron Killer.

It was bright and clear outside, sunlight poured from the window to my right, revealing the atmosphere of the room. The room was painted a light blue; it has always been my wife’s favorite color. This was originally our room, but now I was its only occupant. There were two tan-colored, wooden dressers pushed against each other to the wall at my right. My wife’s cloths were still in there; four Family pictures hung on the wall to my left. However some of them hurt me to even look at them.

The one that caught my eye the most was a picture of Laura and me at the park. I giving her a piggy back ride and Ryan took the picture for us. We were so happy that day; somehow, I forgot how that happiness felt. I forgot about the innocent side of the world, and how things weren’t always so bad. I never thought that happiness could come back to me, after all this time. I sit up then look at that picture. “I’m sorry Laura.” I whispered, my eyes water up as I stare down at my ring on my fourth finger of my left hand. I touched it and looked at the now faded inscription, permanently engraved into it:

‘Forever and always’, it had said. I did miss my wife. God I honestly was a wreck without her, still am. But I promised myself that I would become Ryan’s dad again. I wasn’t going to push him out of my life any more. I had to be there for him and for Laura.

Her death should not mean Ryan’s abandonment. Once more I look to Laura’s picture now thinking to myself only two words: Forever and always

*

I quickly got dressed and walked out my bedroom. I was dressed casually, and not in my usual work tie and suspenders. As I walk down the hall to the stairs, I notice Ryan’s door was wide open. I hear the clanging of cereal hitting the glass of a bowl only to realize he got up early; it’s only Saturday. I continue to walk down stairs and proceed to the kitchen. As I walk through I see Ryan all dressed up, in a red hoodie and jeans. It was the first time I have seen him wear something other than black. “Good morning, dad!” He greets me with a smile. I liked seeing my son smile; it made me smile as well. “Good Morning.” I greet back. I then grab a bowl from the cupboards at the other end of the kitchen and take some milk from the fridge and reached into the cupboard to get the box of Cocoa Puffs.

I sit down at the table Ryan was sitting at, and take a seat across from him. I take a bite of my cereal with my spoon and Ryan continues to eat his cereal. The silence that followed lasted for a good 3 minutes until I decided to speak up.

“I’ve been thinking, Ryan” I tell him. He suddenly looks up at me and gulps down the Cocoa Puffs in his mouth. “What, Dad?” He responds now curious in what I have to say. I pause, and then speak again. “What were you doing at the station that night?” in almost an instant, Ryan’s face grew red. His eyes were slightly wide and his expression was suspicious.

“Um, why?” He stalls. “Because… I don’t think you could have predicted a bomb setting off at the station.” I suggest; Ryan sighs then looks down at his cereal, then he looks back up at me and was about ready to confess. I knew he couldn’t have held it in for this long. “I was… going to steal a file on Aunt Sharon and my cousins murder case.”

How did he think of this idea? Honestly, it’s stupid to even think about stealing from the police. The idea backfires on itself.

“I know.” I respond, His eyes widen again and his eyebrows slant in-ward, as if he was confused. “How did you know?“ He asks. “Son, I have been thinking the same thing you were thinking of for the past 2 years.” I explain. “Every day, I thought: Where was my brother? Did he run away? Was he afraid? Or was he the one who killed Sharon and the kids?” My questions were disturbing to me at the time, and I’m pretty sure Ryan felt the same way I did. “So soon after they died, I started to investigate. And once I first saw those people that B.I.K murdered, I-” Ryan stopped me and finished my sentence. “Thought that B.I.K murdered Aunt Sharon and the kids, and scared Uncle Devin off.” His expression changed and was more interested at my accusation than confused.

“You see Ryan; I have been into my fair share of trouble. Hell If I had been trying to solve a case like this when I was 17, then I probably would have thought I could do this alone. But the fact is we aren’t supposed to do these things alone. We need help from time to time.” I explain. “What are you trying to say dad?” Ryan asks, “I’m saying…” I pause to think then start to speak again, “I’m saying, I need your help Ryan.” I ask for his help. There was no more danger so I might as well ask him to help me find Devin, he was in fact an honors student in forensics, and maybe he could help. I want us to be a family again, and maybe together we can find my brother and help him.

“W-what, you want my help?” He stammers in reply. “Yes, you see; I was too harsh on you, and I’m sorry. But I can trust you and I know that he’s out there somewhere.” I explain. “But dad, where do we start?” I’ll take that as a: ‘Yes dad, I’ll help’. I think about what he asked and I come to a conclusion. “At the downtown station; I transferred all B.I.K-related evidence there.” Ryan makes that confused face again.

“See: I knew you would do this someday so I transferred the evidence into the evidence room of the downtown station.”  I knew what I was doing, not to mention I know my son better than anyone. “Smart.” He compliments. “It takes a detective to outsmart a detective.” I wink and take a spoon full of my cereal. He smiles and chuckles as well, then continues to eat his cereal. “So, Partners?” I bring up the question as I hold out my hand for him to shake it. He looks down at my hand, drops his spoon and firmly shakes my hand. “Partners.”

*

Soon after breakfast we drive into downtown Tucson in my Mazda. We are riding down Broadway and me and Ryan are talking about random things. Ryan chuckles in the passenger seat as I Finished telling a joke. “How come you’re not this funny at home?” He asks. “Well before I wasn’t in a ‘joke-telling-mood'” I responded while laughing.” Yeah, well I’m glad to see you in a good mood, dad.” He says with a smile. The laughter soon dies in the car after he spoke, and all we could hear was the rumbling of the engine. I haven’t talked to him about school lately so I guess I’ll break the silence.

“So how’s school going?” I ask still focused on the road. “School is ok.” He answers. His voice seems calm yet I could sense he was holding something back. I make a left down the main road and continue to speak to him. “Is there anything happening in school lately; Bullies, girls, projects? “; “Uhh No.”

Liar, he was never very good at lying. “C’mon! I know you, Ryan. Mr. Lady Killer!” I say encouragingly, if asking him doesn’t work then flattery will. He chuckled feeling good about himself, “Ok, well…” He pauses “There is this one girl.” He smiles and strokes back some strand of his long hair hanging between his eyes; I smile and look at Ryan then back at the road and check my rear-view mirrors, then I look at the road again and start the conversation on this girl he knows. “Ok then tell me, what’s her name? Is she cute? Does she know you exist?”

The question was supposed to be relatable. At my age I was always shy and had my face in a book. Bullies were the worst back then, they would always tease me for being short, or they would pick me up by the shoulders and throw me against the wall and beat me to a pulp. However I didn’t regret any of that, it toughened me up and made me who I am today.

“Her name’s Delilah; She’s in all my classes, and yes she’s cute. She’s beautiful actually.” He corrects himself, while his speaking he’s staring into nothingness and smiling at the same time. I never really saw him so happy. “She’s been sitting in front of me in every class, including forensics. We never talked before though.” His smile went away at that realization. ”I don’t know, I guess I’m just scared to come up to her and just talk, you know?” I stopped the car in front of a tall five-story tan building. We arrived at the down town station.

I turn to Ryan and he looks back at me. “We’re here.” He says. “Wait Ryan-” I stopped him before he could reach for the car’s door handle.

“Yes Dad?” He replies and looks at me.” When I met your mother, I felt the exact same way you did.”, “Embarrassed and Nervous?” He interrupts. “First let me just say it takes a man to admit that.” I pointed out and gestured at the fact. “And second, you don’t need to be ashamed or embarrassed. You just need to believe in yourself.” He looked at me looking confused. “Look just walk up to her and say: Hey, do you want to go out sometime? “, “But dad you can’t just directly ask someone on a date, it is a little stalker-ish; you have to get to know them better.” He explains. “Alright then ‘love guru’, show me the way, I’m all ears.” I wittingly tell him.

He chuckles and thinks or a second then puts on a straight face. “You first have to friend her on Facebook or something. Then the next day you act all casual and say: ‘Hey I saw you on Facebook. Do you want to hang out or something?’ And then you just play it off from there.”  Isn’t that what I just said? I mean we didn’t have social media in the 80’s but isn’t that technically what I just said? “So don’t do the direct approach yet, but friend her on Facebook first?” I ask sarcastically and smile at him. He gestures his left hand at me to try and make a point, but as he is about to speak, he’s at a loss for words and nothing comes out of his mouth. I think I just stopped his brain for a moment.

I smile and get out of the car to walk toward the building. My Car kind of stood out from all the other cars in the street. Ryan soon after caught up with me as I make toward the door. “We are not done yet.”; “No but I think you are.” I say confidently He groans as I chuckle, and we walk through the stations doors toward a front desk. The building was well-lit, and had plenty of room. The only down side to it was the multiple cops running up and about the station doing whatever business they had. The place looked like New York in rush hour.

The Front desk was made of marble and was very well kept and organized by the man behind the counter. He was wearing a tie and a white dress shirt with slacks.

“Hello sir, what can I do for you?” He asks me, “We would like to look at some evidence that was transferred here and to bring it to a secure location.” I confirm my business; however the man doesn’t seem too convinced.” And you are?” He questions. I quickly pull out my badge and show him my I.D;”Detective Steven McCalister, and this is my son Ryan” I gesture to Ryan at my right.”Ok detective right this way, But Ryan can’t come back to the room with us.” I look to explain to Ryan why he can’t come. “It’s ok I’ll wait here.” Ryan says. “You sure?” I ask. “Yeah it’s cool.”; “okay, be right back don’t move.” I tell him as I continue to the evidence room with the desk clerk and leave Ryan in the waiting room.

He led me down the hall and to a silver elevator surrounded by the silver hallway. We stepped into the elevator and sit in the re till we reach the 5th floor.” This way sir.” he gestures outside the elevator doors as they open. He turns left and I follow him to a gated area of the floor then he takes off a set of keys he had latched to his pants and he opens the gate and lets me in.” There you go sir. Check with the clerk at the desk to the right so that you can pull out whatever evidence you need. I’ll wait here.” He explains. I then leave the lobby with the desk clerk to the evidence room.

 

 

What felt like hours to get that box of evidence only took 20 minutes; why does time seem to slow down at the most dull moments? Whatever, at least I got the files. They were in a small office box that I had placed them in with a bold- lettered, red stamp on the top with the word confidential; I carried the box with me and I took the elevator with that clerk from the front desk.

Apparently, not even a professional detective can be trusted with the very documents he had transferred. When I reach downstairs I see Ryan sitting in a chair in the waiting area while officers just walk across the room, going along with their own business. Ryan looked uneasy, he was slightly slouching and was moving his eyes left and right trying to examine the room. Once he looks at me he gets up and walks toward me as I come to him holding the box of evidence. His movements were rushed and he looked tired.

“Did you get the evidence?” He asks with his voice sounded uneasy. “Yes I did, are you ok?” I respond.” Yeah I’m just thinking.”, “About what?” I ask. “Well…” He pauses and looks down then looks back up again.” What if we didn’t kill him? Or What if he escaped the fire?” I knew he was talking about the killer and I could understand his concern, the unpleasant tone in his voice sounded almost disturbed.” Son, he’s gone ok? We saw him unconscious, and all because of you.” I reply to his question.”I know dad, I just have this feeling, that he’s not dead.”

I look down and prepare a response. But just as I am about to speak, the P.A over the room comes on. “ALL UNITS REPORT TO 9675 EAST RAKER STREET, ALL UNITS PLEASE RESPOND NOW!!” Just like that every cop in the station storms out of the station in a panicking manor.

All the officers drop what they are doing and rush out the entrance to the parking lot and one- by- one they all leave in their squad cars. “What’s going on?” Ryan asks as he looks around at the cops running frantically outside.” I don’t know must be big though.” I reply. “We should follow them.” I look to him and realize maybe he’s right we should see what all the panic is about.

Quickly we rush into the car and I place the box of evidence in the back seat as Ryan rushes into the passenger side of the car, I immediately hop into the driver’s seat and pull out of the parking lot. “Raker Street, do you know where that is?” Ryan suddenly looked intense and worried.” Yeah we used to go by that street back when you were in elementary school.” I reply as I curve left at a green light, I am soon met with a police car on front of me and I proceed to follow them. “How do you remember that far back?” He asks. “You don’t really forget these kinds of things.” I tell him.” Yeah, but even I would forget.”;” I guess I have good memory then.” I reply soon enough we are stopped at the street address.

Swarms of cop cars cover the scene and all that remains visible is a house fire. Police soon get out of their cars to block off the scene. A fire truck soon arrives and pulls up to the curb next to a fire hydrant.” Dad let’s go.” Ryan suggests; I trust him and all but what if what is there is too gruesome for him to see. I guess it’s ok if he can come with me to investigate. “Sure” I replied uneasily.

We soon rush out of the car; soon after I locked the doors we get through the crowd of cars and make it to the crime scene. Ryan somehow got there faster than me; I could see him just standing there crippled in fear and shaking slightly. I finally caught up to him and saw the horror he had seen. “No…” He whispers as if he had saw death himself.

The body count was at a usual four people. All of them decapitated and burned slightly. Their heads were stuck on four shining metal poles. The blaze behind them was roaring with intense heat, engulfing the house in pure hell fire. The first head was one of a small infant, a small innocent child, now mangled and burnt to a crisp. The second and third was of a husband and wife, the eyes were gouged out of their sockets, and blood still dripping from the snapped jaw of the wife. The last head was of a teenager, a boy just about Ryan’s age, his skull was showing as a result of his head being lit on fire. One half of his face was intact as the other half revealed part of his skull.

“Oh my…” I bent over and vomited on the ground. I quickly wiped my mouth while Ryan had just kept looking at the young man’s head still burning endlessly upon that pole. Why didn’t he just die? Why couldn’t he just go away forever? Ryan’s innocence is now destroyed and lost in the fire before us; he sure as hell didn’t need to see this, not today.

“I should have killed him.” he whispers. “I should have fucking killed him…” He turns at me and as I get back up and look into his eyes, they were full of hatred, fear, and pain.” They’re dead because of me!” he gestures at the scene before us, I just stood and look at him, and I can’t help but thinking: was I really the blame for this? Should I have let Ryan kill him while he had the chance? “Now son-” I start just as I’m interrupted by Ryan.

“No dad, it’s my fault and we are going to fix it!” He exclaims. Parts of the house collapse in as fire fighters are hosing down the building. “You and me dad, we are going to track him down, and then…” He pauses and looks and the still crackling flames. His face grows red with anger and sweat pours from his forehead. “… We will kill him.” He tells me slowly as he turns around and walks to the car; but I’m afraid I can’t let him do this. That boy’s impaled head had proven to me that I can’t risk Ryan’s life to find this bastard, it’s too dangerous. I could never live with myself if Ryan would suffer the same fate.” No Ryan, we can’t. I’m sorry “He halts in his tracks and looks to me furiously as I apologize.”I knew it!” He sarcastically chuckles and his expression turns dark once more.

“I knew this whole, ‘I trust you’ shit wasn’t going to last! Well thank you, dad, for the false hope!” He frowns at me and looks at the fire. “Son it’s too dangerous, that boy right there could be you!” I exclaim. “Maybe so, but I’m not going to sit back and watch this madman kill like this!” He shouts and storms off into the car behind the crowd of cop cars. I sigh heavily and slowly walk back to the car.

As I pulled into the driveway, I can’t help but think that Ryan may be right. I mean Ryan had the chance; the pole was in his hand. He literally had the upper hand. And I had to let my morality get in the way. I don’t know why but something in the back of my mind keeps telling me I was right to stop Ryan from killing this man. Either way, Ryan wants revenge or at least he wanted to avenge for these people that this freak had murdered, and I had denied him of that.  I pull in next to my son’s car at the driveway and proceed out of the car. I retrieve the evidence box in the back seat. Afterwards, I head for the front door of the house when Ryan gets out of the car and slams the door behind him. He walks frustratingly to the door at a much faster pace than me. I look up at him then look down as I sigh in frustration. Then I look at the evidence box, there was a note on top of the box taped onto it. Was this there before? I stare at it with caution, I wanted to ask Ryan if he saw this note here before, but he was in the front seat with me and the box was in the back; isolated behind Ryan’s seat.

The handwriting was sloppy and the note was stained with spots of red. I wasn’t sure what the red stains were but I had a pretty good idea as to who it’s from. Why is he doing this? What can he possibly want from me?

I then walk inside my house and place the box on the coffee table and toss my keys on the sofa across from the table. I sit down on the sofa and rest my head on the pleather couch. As I lay my head, I hear Ryan stomping his way down stairs, I then realize he can’t see this, not on top of the box, if he sees this note he will be even angrier with me for even having a connection with the killer. I quickly take the note, fold it in half and put it inside my jacket pocket.

 

“Ok let’s see the evidence.” Ryan demanded from behind me as he plops next to me and takes the lid off the evidence box and started slowly picking out items of evidence in plastic bags which are labeled and sealed. He had the decency to handle them with latex gloves on. After He pulled out the first couple items he pulled out a small plastic sheet in his pocket and lays it flat on the table and slowly pulls the small shreds out the box and lays them down upon the plastic covering.

“Excuse me?” I ask as I look at every move he makes. He stares down and looks to his right, at me. “We need to find this guy and if any of this stuff can help us then I’m not wasting another second. We will find him.” He explains. His tone was dark and sincere. “I thought I told you we are not doing this anymore, alright? Even if B.I.K’s alive and active doesn’t mean we can go hunting for him!” I demand. “Look dad… If we find him we find your Brother.” He tells me trying to reach some angle of persuasion.                                        “What are you implying?” I ask as anger fills up in my voice. “I’m saying maybe B.I.K knows about your brother. Maybe, just maybe, he killed him and no one knows what happened to him because he was dead before they even so much as heard a word from him.” He gestures as if to talk with his hands and then pauses to hear my reply, which I did not give. He scoffs and shakes his head and returns to examining the evidence. “Whatever Dad, I’ll just do this on my own.” I didn’t so much as spoke a word to him. He crossed the biggest line of all and I was so angry that speaking to him will just result to more yelling, I sigh and get up from the couch. Ryan moves over to occupy the space I used to sit in on the couch, and completely ignores my anger and focuses on the evidence. I swear sometimes this kid gets on my nerves.

I then walk to the fridge, grab a beer, and walk up stairs to my room. I plop onto my bed in my room and then I slowly sit up and pull out the blood stained note with my left hand as I held the beer in my right. I leaned at the edge of the right side of my bed and I take a sip of the beer and started to read the note from my ‘secret admirer’. I started to read: “DEAR DETECTIVE…” it read,

“I HAVE BEEN WATCHING YOU AND YOUR SON…” I suddenly had a chill down my spine.

”YOU WILL NOW CEASE ANY AND ALL ACTIVITY, RELATED TO CAPTURING AND OR KILLING ME; THAT OF WHICH I FIND TO BE IMPOSSIBLE. BUT IF YOU DO NOT COME TO TERMS WITH WHAT I DEMANDED, I WILL KILL YOU AND THAT STUPID HALF WITTED SON OF YOURS.”. A flash of anger filled my eyes as I read on,

“NOT ONLY WILL I KILL YOU TWO, BUT I SHALL MAKE EXAMPLES OF YOU. I WONT JUST IMPALE YOUR HEADS AND BURN THE BODIES, I WILL BATHE IN YOU AND YOUR SON’S BLOOD.’

With every word, my stomach grew weaker and every sip of beer made me more intoxicated and unmanageable. I was beginning to mumble to myself. I read on.

“YOU WILL REGRET THE DAY YOU SPARED ME AT THE STATION! YOU WILL REGRET EVER KNOWING WHO I AM, SO TO SPARE YOU THE PAIN OF ALL I HAVE JUST EXPLAINED, QUIT WHILE YOU’RE AHEAD! SIGNED BIK. P.S. IT’S BEST WE KEEP THIS NOTE AWAY FROM MY NEPHEW; SEE YOU SOON BROTHER…”

Oh My God…

Jacob Part 6 FINALE

I’m not gonna make it, no one’s going to make it. We are all dead. I know I sound like a total pessimist but it’s not pessimistic; it’s called being a realist and this was as real as it would get. I was going to die and so was my family, maybe we might die in this car on our way to the hotel… there’s a semi behind us that looks big enough to crush a tank, maybe Jacob will give it a little push into the back of the car and kill all of us as we are sucked under the wheels of the semi.

We are even on a bridge maybe it won’t suck us under but it will definitely push us over the edge and we would crash into traffic below causing us to die instantly in a fiery explosion.

How sad is this? A depressed five year old? Seems too scary or odd to be true, then again I was exposed to a demon so life’s no longer sunshine and rainbows. I guess that’s what Jacob is, I mean if you were sent into hell as an angel what do you think will come back out? A roughed up angel without its wings? No you get a crooked angle without its feathers and his halo exchanged for a nice pair of horns. Now they didn’t seem so nice.

Mom is in the passenger seat, arms crossed and staring out the window at traffic without any sign of emotion. Her eyes were circled in pinkish red skin from crying so much, her hair a mess. She somehow managed to stop crying and grow silent and now here she is: depressed. Maybe she was feeling the same way as me, after all I kind of looked like a miniaturized version of her. Eyes red, face blank of emotion. The only normal ones in the car were Carl: Who didn’t see anything at the zoo but cried a little anyways, and Dad: Who was just silent and trying to calm the both of us down, was now focused on the road.

I guess he didn’t want to say anything to cheer us up, after all what was the point of even trying to cheer us up, this wasn’t some kind of a letdown at the Toys R’ Us, an elephants head was torn off by a friggin demon! To them it just fell right off. The news would blame it on some disease or terrorist weapons. Me? I would always know it was Jacob. The shadow like entity now was a boney, demonic skeletal being with red and black shadows emanating off his body like smoke from a fire. I saw this when I was running from the zoo with my family, I turned to look at the bloody mess and saw Jacob standing in the middle of the puddle of blood. His body was now a malnourished incredibly boney skeletal figure with glowing red liquefied eyes, black and red smoke pouring out of his arms and legs. His eyes staring into mine with hatred, his boney fists clenched in anger. I now know that he wanted me to die there and then but he held back; he was planning something for me.

“I can’t believe it.” Mom managed to speak quietly still looking out the window. “What?” Dad asks now curious. “How could that happen?” She asks a little louder this time. “I don’t know, look let’s just forget about it ok?” Dad suggests, mom looks to him “How can I Keith? An elephant’s fuckin’ head fell off his neck! You never forget that shit!” She was growing angry but remained somewhat calm. “Look let’s just listen to the radio or something ok?” Dad says, Mom sighs as Dad turns on the radio only to hear a male news reporter come out of the speakers. The reporter was I the middle of talking; the radio had picked his voice in the middle of his report.

“Here at Reid Park Zoo a beloved Elephant has been massacred as a result of an unknown biological virus, zookeepers say they are baffled and saddened at the loss of their beloved Elephant: Kristy-“

Dad turned off the radio and swore as soon as the reporter had said the elephant’s name. I knew it; they blamed it on a virus. Typical… turn to the most logical explanation and push everything else aside, we are all so stupid to not see these things for what they really are. “It wasn’t a virus.” I say softly. Mom sighs, she is angry but out of sympathy for me seeing the same thing as she did she humors me:

“What else can it be honey?” she says rubbing her forehead. I bite my lip but decide to just tell them the truth. After all might as well get it off my chest since we probably will all die soon.

“It was a demon-“I start “I saw it when we were running away from the zoo. It was staring at me, like it wanted me dead-“mom cut me off, sounding scared. “STOP IT, PLEASE!” she begs. Suddenly, thunder clashes in the sky lightning strikes the side of the road. All of traffic is stopped as cars franticly tried to find places to halt in the road without being smashed into; the semi that was behind us passes and rams a second semi that was to our left and crashes into other cars along the way. We are stopped and away from the truck unharmed and untouched. Then without further interruption the radio turns itself on and static pours through our speakers accompanied by a deep guttural roaring sound. Dad immediately attempted to turn the radio off; furiously pushing the off button, then hitting it. Still wouldn’t turn off. Mom was covering her ears as if she was being hurt or as if something was digging into her ears. “Baby, baby what’s wrong!?” Dad asks frantically as mom opens her mouth only to let out a silent scream of pain. Her expression was showing hurt and unbearable pain as she covers her ears and begins to shed tears.

“Mom? MOM!” Carl is crying and then that’s when I saw blood pouring from the creases of mom’s fingers as she is still covering her ears. “AAAGHH!!” Mom screams. “Oh My God!” Dad shouts. I then knew exactly what was happening, Jacob was attacking us. Then from the static filled radio a garbled sound of Jacob’s voice seeped through: ”Die…”

“JACOB STOP!” I shout and then the radio shut off immediately and mom stopped covering her ears which are now covered in blood as well as her hands. “Oh my God honey, I’m so sorry, you ok?” Dad asks as mom continuously sobs. Mom and dad huddle together and hold each other in the front seats.

Just then my neck tightens up around the edges and front of my throat I feel hands wrap around my small neck… yet I am unable to see hands choking me. I gasp for breath but it doesn’t reach my lungs. Mom and dad notice this and turn from their huddle and look to me. Mom climbs between the passenger seats to grab my shoulders. “Honey, SARAH! What’s wrong?! Baby talk to me!” Mom yells, panicking while dad screeches the tires of the car and starts to drive past all the wreckage ahead. “Damnit! I can’t get by the road’s blocked!” Dad shouts.

Pain surges through my throat as I manage to squeal out two words: “Jacob… please…” I start to black out and I see images: his skeletal, copse-like self, choking me out as I start to see my surroundings fade in and out of vision; his eyes full of hatred and evil. He is there but mom doesn’t see him as she is choking me out in front of her. Then I go dark.

I wake up again at the hotel room in bed. I wasn’t dead, my neck hurt but I was alive. I sit up feeling as though I got hit by a truck. It’s nighttime outside the window in our room and I look to my right to see my parents on the other bed next to me. Mom and dad are hugging each other and mom looks to me and pulls away from dad to look at me. The blood is cleaned off her head but she is still teary eyed and upset. Dad was trying to keep his calm but it looked to me that he was crying as well. “Oh my God, honey she’s awake!” Mom sounds beyond relieved and the both of them sigh in relief and rush to my aid. I am embraced by both my mom and dad and I snap out of my haze.

“W-what happened?” I asked still feeling rather uneasy. “You couldn’t breathe; we couldn’t get to the hospital because all the roads were blocked, and apparently all the major roads going to the hospitals were blocked, under construction, and even had accident problems.” Dad explained; Wow that’s one determined demon. “But then you started to breathe normally so we just rode back here and just Thank God you’re okay. We had a nurse in the hotel room next to us and she attended to the bruises on your neck, w-we don’t know how they got there; n-no one was t-touching you.” Mom stammered a bit and I realized her voice had fear in it, dread even that something this odd and unexpected had happened. Of course they wouldn’t believe me if I told the truth. It seems to me that if I said anything then Jacob would do something even worse than just choke me, or make mom bleed through her ears, or even cut off an elephants head; he would probably kill me.

“I’m sorry all this is happening guys, it’s my fault.” I confessed, tears choking back in my voice. I knew I was probably responsible, if I had just ignored Jacob a month ago I would probably still be ok. My family would have been safe and Carl would have been protected. “No sweetie it’s not your fault, I know it seems like everything isn’t looking so great, but that doesn’t mean you are to blame.” Mom says as she strokes my hair on my head. Dad then starts to speak “If anything it’s us, we never give you as much attention as-“ I stop him there, knowing where he was going. He was going to say that I wasn’t the cause of mom and dad fighting and that I was loved even though sometimes I didn’t feel that way. It was all obvious they loved me and I have somewhat gotten used to being responsible for Carl as much as my parents; plus I knew well enough to know that this situation is bigger than my petty need for attention because we could all die in an instant…

But I wasn’t going to tell them that.

“-Dad no, I love you guys to death and I know you guys fighting and looking after Carl is no one’s fault…”
“Then what are you talking about?” Mom asks, both parents staring at me with worry inn their eyes. God I hated having to lie to them, because I could end up making Jacob cut off their heads or make them bleed out internally or something. But none of that will happen because I will have to lie for their sake.

I struggle with the words but manage to make out the full sentence without fault. “It’s my fault the car crash happened?” I say trying to sound very innocent and unsuspicious; I sound more questionable than I was innocent but hell, I needed something to tell them other than the truth… because the truth might very well kill them. “Oh darling no, that crash was completely that stupid driver’s fault.” Mom says softly grabbing my hand. “Really?” I try sounding hopeful. “Yeah, most truck drivers are reckless.” Dad tells me with a smile. I try smiling back and aim at humor. “-and stupid.” I add, they both laughed and as did I trying to sound as real as possible. It was nice to see us all laughing at once. “How’s Carl? I quickly change the subject, Carl was my number one priority right now; having that dream I had a week ago didn’t help with my stress. I was half-expecting to see him as a pie of ashes. I crane my head over mom to see a crib but no Carl; I was worried for second till I hear cooing from behind me.

I turn around to see Carl in the stroller still, he was asleep but now he was awake. Feeling as though I hadn’t seen him in forever, I go to him and jump off my bed. I walk past Mom and Dad and head to the stroller. I approach the stroller but mom stops me, “Honey wait-“ I turn to face her; standing had not helped me out since I was out of breath and dizzy, having only my worriedness for Carl to keep me from sitting back down. “Mom please I just need to hold him.” Mom almost stops me but dad looks to her and nods in approval I guess that was my “okay”.

“Be careful ok?” Mom says and I nod. I turn to the crib again and smile. There he is; Carl with that cute green cartoon dinosaur on his shirt, his blonde curly hair on his head. He wakes up ever so gently and blinks his blueish-green eyes while he yawns softly letting out a yawn. It was cute; I smiled a little forgetting this mess that I am in. For some reason I never wanted to stop looking at him.

I walk to him slowly and finally reach the stroller; mom and dad are quietly back at my bed watching me. I lean forward in his stroller as he watches me scoop him up. He giggles a little and waves his tiny little hand at me, like he was waving at me. I gasped at this gesture and whispered “hi” back at him.

I cradle his head in my arms and the rest of his body in my other arm.

And there he was: cute, small, sensitive, fragile and just overall amazing. My insides become soft and my throat is holding back tears as I try to speak.

“I’m so sorry- for all of this. For not loving you before, but now I do, and I love you so much.” He looks at me and smiles. I laugh and a small hot tear drips from my eyes and down my cheek. I felt as though everything was ok, there was no harm, no pain, no Jacob, just me and Carl.

“I’ll take that as yes…” He laughs and I laugh a little as well. “-yeah, you do too, don’t you?”

Who knew that just a month ago I hated him? Now he is my responsibility, he is going to make it out of this mess, and by God he will get out of this unharmed. I kiss his soft head and he grabs ahold of my hair. “Hey, little buddy, that’s not a toy.” I say laughing and without any force he realizes this and lets go while he laughs. “Thanks.”

That night we went to bed, hoping and planning to go by the house and see if it was ready to be occupied tomorrow. Carl slept in his crib, mom and dad in the other bed with each other and me in the other bed where I had laid before.

I was awake whilst everyone else was asleep; my chest felt painful and filled with nothingness because all the air had been blocked by stressfulness I now hold there instead of air. I could breathe but not too well. I was scared; scared beyond comprehension and now I had every right to be. Jacob could be here any minute, hell he could have been here this whole time.

“He won’t win, I won’t let him.” I whisper to myself. Just then I had a thought. He hates God, Jacob hated God with a passion and well if you think about it, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and when it comes to God, I would say he was automatically my friend… and possibly my only hope. I sit up from my bed and bowed my head, held my hands together, shut my eyes tightly and began to pray:

“God, I think I now know why you cast him away from heaven, he was, is, pure evil. I need you now. And God, if anyone is to make it out of this, please let it be Carl. I love him and from what I hear in bible school, I’d say you love him too. So please protect him God. But most of all protect us all from Jacob… if that is his real name.” I pray, somehow a shiver ran down the side of my back, but this was a warm kind of shiver, so I guess that was a sign that he was listening. “Thank you God, in Jesus name I pray, Amen.” I finish off the prayer.

I open my eyes only to find Jacob sitting in front of me. His appearance more shocking than ever; he had bloodshot red colored eyes. His skeletal form mixed with flesh had been rotted and covered in some kind of dried up skin with horns protruding from his wrists, legs, back and forehead. Red shadowy smoke pours from his body and onto the bed and floor like a fog. I gasp in horror and back up from him and accidentally hit my back on the head board of the bed. However I didn’t scream, I just stare at him, eyes widened with horror and face cringed at the sight of his hideousness.
He spoke but only in a much deeper voice than usual:

“What did I tell you?” He asks me and looks at me with that same hatred he showed back at the zoo. “God can’t save you…” I stop him there with an insult:

“Go to hell.” I whisper harshly. Suddenly I am levitated into the air by Jacob, only he isn’t touching me. He faces me toward him and straightens my body floating in thin air and aims my head to his face so I am forced to look at him. He then chuckles deeply and looks me dead in the eye and says this:

“You are already there.” He smiles wickedly and without any more words he throws me down to the floor. “Carl!” I shout as I struggle to get up.

I finally get on my feet and see Jacob in front of me, “They can’t hear you Sarah.” He starts, it seems he has muted me from them or at least kept them from hearing me somehow. “Now watch them burn!” he shouts as fire erupts from the floor at his feet, then quickly spreads out to my bed then to the walls and before I know it the heat consumed the room and the flames grew and grew. It all has happened so fast that I couldn’t focus hard enough on either Jacob or the fire. I only had one thing on my mind and that was Carl, and if I could I would save my parents as well. My parents they will help, maybe Jacob took off the mute on me. I run right through Jacob as his red smoking body dissipates and rushes behind me.

“MOM, DAD!” I shout as I try to doge the flames but am pulled away from mom and dad by my feet and dragged into the hallway outside the room as the door flung open for me. I tried gripping to the floor but I wasn’t strong enough. The last thing I see in that room was Mom and Dad’s bed sheet catching fire. “NOO!” I shout as I am slammed against the wall in the hall and the door slams shut in front of me. The pain wasn’t bad, granted getting slammed into the wall was painful I quickly got up, with the adrenaline pumping through me making my pain bearable and seem like nothing. The only unbearable pain within me was the pain in my soul; knowing that my family could be dying in there, and also knowing that Jacob knew that I could care less of me dying, just so long as my family was safe I would die happy. And now he knew my weakness.

I start slamming at the door and yelling at it hoping that Mom and Dad could hear me through it, but I am not lucky. “MOM! DAD! CARL!!” I yell with tears streaming down my face, I slam the door with my palm once more but after that I just give up and collapse to the floor and began to cry. This isn’t happening. It just isn’t.

After a minute of me crying I hear muffled speech from behind the door, this sound of hope made me rise to the door “Mom? Dad?” the fire crackles from inside the room, the heat becomes felt from the crack below the door. Smoke poured from the crack.
From behind the door I hear mom panicking and yelling at dad to wake up. “Where’s Sarah?!” Mom asks. “SARAH!” dad shouts, “I am here, DAD I AM HERE! Jacob locked me out!” I shout, hoping it made sense enough for them to want to get out of bed. Suddenly I hear mom scream in pain. She then starts screaming that it burns then yells at dad to make it go away. Oh my god, her scream, she was more than just in pain she was burning screeching and shouting in pure terror. She wanted out but I was too helpless to go in there and get them myself. And by now the flames have already risen a bit so they would soon be dead.

“NOOO! SOMBODY HELP ME!!” I shout done the halls, soon mom’s screams are joined by Dad’s painful yell. “NO, GODDAMNIT NO!!!” I yell tears streaming down my red cheeks.

“Sarah, save Carl!!” Dad yells, he must assume he’s dead already, “DAD NO, PLEASE!!” I lean against the door crying and yelling; telling them to not go, but the screams become decreased in volume and more replaced by the crackling of fire against wood.
It is very inconvenient to know that the bed frames were made of wood, and without warning their screams are muted. This only made me realize something: Carl was still in there, now he was all that mattered, as much as it pains me to say it, my parents are dead. Now my only family is Carl. I quickly start to slam on the door next to us but then I realized he would have heard us if he was here. Everyone else must be asleep, out, or just too uncaring to come out.

But when all hope is lost, a tall man with brown hair and light brown skin came out of the corner of the hallway wearing a leather jacket and work boots. He looked very muscular so he could possibly be strong enough to break the door down. “Hey, mister PLEASE you got to help me!” I say walking toward him. “W-what’s wrong?” He asks as he comes closer to my position. Good I have his attention.

“My room is on fire I need someone to break down the door, please my family is still in there!” I say as I walk to the front of the door that was my room and point at it directing him; he quickly realizes the situation and rushes to my door. “Stand back!” I stand back as instructed and he takes a deep breath and kicks the door in, flinging it off the hinges and revealing the hell in that room. “Thank you so much!” I say to him as I rush in there dodging little patches of flame and trying to make it to Carl’s crib. “Little girl wait!” He yells before it is too late I am already in. I guess he thought it was impossible what I did, considering the major area of the flame was large and no one could hop through without dying or getting severely burned. “Carl?” I say loudly then I start hearing crying. It was Carl, thank God he was alive. I slowly walk past giant patches of fire that burned our belongings along with a couple patches of the carpet.
The heat reaches my skin and I start sweating. Then I reach Mom and Dad’s bed. I gasp in horror and hold my hand s together at my mouth. “No.” I say silently. Smoke is in the air and I cough. The man outside the room hears me. “ARE YOU OK?” he shouts. “No, my parents are dead.” It is quite, and then he speaks again. “I’M SORRY, COME BACK WE NEED TO GET YOU SOMEWHERE SAFE!” He yells from the hallway, “I CALLED 911, C’MON!” I start back at him. “NO, I HAVE TO GET MY BROTHER! HE IS STILL ALIVE.” I yell. Suddenly out of the doorway and past all the smoke I see him coming toward me. “Then let me help you.” He says as he looks toward the bed. “Shit, sorry kid.” We both look at my parents bloody bodies, severely burned, and still on fire. “Let’s just get my brother.” I say as I start toward the crib across from the bed that was mom and dad’s. The crib was somehow the only thing untouched by fire. There was a kind of invisible wall around him, flames dance past him, leaving Carl unscathed.

“I need your jacket.” I tell him. “Why?” he asks back. I look at the flames and realize there is an opening in the flame just small enough to fit me but I can’t get in there without being burned.

“I need to be safe from the fire when I go in and get him; the fire is too big to have you go in there unharmed. I need your jacket to slip through without being burned; plus the jacket will keep Carl safe too.” He stares at me then at the flames. The fires around us crackle and roar as smoke fills the air around us. He coughs a little and takes off his jacket. He gives it too me and kneels close to me as I put it on. The jacket is bigger on me than him, but that was perfect. It would keep both me and Carl safe.

“You are one smart little girl, go and get him ok, I’ll be right here when you get back.” He says patting my back. “Thankyou.” I say as I charge into the opening. I quickly find Carl standing in the crib before me. And oddly enough, I can breathe normally again. We were together in this space and it felt as if fire had not touched the room at all. “Come on buddy, let’s go.” I say to him as I pick him up from the crib. I kiss his head and hold him tightly in the jacket I had on. Just then I look up at the ceiling toward the sky. “Jacob was wrong, God can save me.” I charge through the opening holding Carl in the jacket with me and meet up with the man with Carl in my arms and we retreat outside into the hallway.

5 YEARS LATER…

No one believes me but Darien (He is the guy that helped me that night of the fire) he is the only one who believes me when I say that it was Jacob that killed my parents, set fire to the hotel room, and killed the elephant back at Reid Park. He is in fact a demonologist and a Christian; which is weird (The demonologist part) but helpful (the Christian part), plus it reassures me that I am safe with him. I just thank God I have someone who believes me.

I am ten now; that’s cool I guess. Birthdays don’t matter to me anymore, Jacob took a big chunk of my life out and I can never get it back, and not any toy or gift can make the past go away. Every day it eats at me making me as paranoid as ever to think that he is still out there waiting for me. But I am older now I can face this asshole, if Darian can help me understand him better, then I would be prepared the next time we meet.

Today is Carl’s birthday, now I know I said birthdays don’t matter to me anymore, but Carl’s does. He was going to visit me today here at Darien’s house in Phoenix. Darien was apparently on a trip to Tucson when we met five years ago so it was only pure fate that brought him to me that night.

That night Carl was taken in by another set of foster parents who took care of him. Conveniently they lived down the street from me and Darian’s place so me and Carl weren’t afar. The first couple years were hard being away from each other so much and having to organize all this mess with my parent’s death. Their will had to be read to me and I had to sit through a funeral with Carl, which hit really hard for me, for Carl it was all a blur and I am sure he barely remembers the fire. I am glad to have made it out of the fire with Carl in my arms. Now he is five today and he was going to visit me at Darian’s house.

I sit in my new bedroom ready and dressed to see Carl, I was excited to see him but also sad because now he was the age I was when all this mess happened, and if he is anything like I was at that age he will remember something. I am deeply worried that he will ask something about Jacob or about how our parents died. But hopefully he will be as understanding as I was at that time and not ask about anything.

Darian comes into my room and smiles. “He’s here.” He announces happily, “Awesome, I’ll be down in a minute.” I tell him as I stood in front of a mirror in my new room. It was actually a very desirable room for me. It was purple, of all colors. It’s funny to think I finally get purple walls, they seemed so important then, now they feel meaningless. And I find myself missing my all pink floral wall paper and my pink furniture. Now I have a room that was greatly appreciated but no longer meant much to me. Believe me I appreciated everything Darian has done for me but I feel so empty without my parents. I wish that I would have gotten a few extra minutes with them. But now it was too late and here I am. “Don’t forget his present ok?” Darian tells me as I look to my twin sized mattress and upon it was a box.

It was a puzzle of Carl’s favorite superhero: Superman. It was a silly gift but he was five, I couldn’t give him much, even with the allowance Darian gave me for doing chores I could have gotten him something more but that wouldn’t matter to him at this age. So Superman it was. “Thanks…” I turn around. “Darian I am worried.” I say to him softly. His expression turns serious and he kneels down to face me. “Hey, look, he won’t get to you. He attacked your family and that was it. He won’t come back.” He explains. I look down still feeling worried. “It’s been five years Sarah.” He adds. I look up and start to see his logic. Jacob was gone and he was no longer part of my life I should just forget about him. I smile a little and look at him. “Okay, I’ll be down soon.” He smiles. “Good, Bonnie and Charles left him here for the day so he’s all yours.” He says standing up and heading toward the door. “Okay, good.” I smile and grab the box on my bed and head out of the door with him. “Thanks Darian.” I tell him. “Don’t mention it princess.” He says, I liked Darian, not because he took me in and kept me safe but because he was there for me. It was so odd that we have done this for five years now. I especially liked when he called me princess. Made me feel as though I was cared about by him, that he on some level loved my like his own daughter.

I walk downstairs with my present for Carl hidden behind my back. I was dressed in a pink sweater jacket and a pink scarf with a light purple shirt under my sweater jacket. I walk to the final step to see Carl: his blonde curls all jumbles up on his small head. He was at least three feet tall and wore jeans with a T-shirt that was even a bigger version of the T-shirt he wore that night of the fire and at the zoo. He turns to see me from the couch he sat on as he waited down here. His face lit up like fireworks and he came running to me. “Sarah!” he yells and he tackles me and holds my waist really tight. I embrace the hug and hug him back. I was only a foot and a half taller than Carl so I had to bend over a bit to hug him back. “Hey buddy, happy birthday!” I say happily. He releases me and bounces up and down. “Did ya miss me?” he asks in excitement. “Hmm, nah.” I say playfully holding back a giggle. “C’mon.” he says laughing. “Of course I missed you silly.” I say and he shouts yay. I was happy to see him like this; he always made me feel better. He was so energetic now and it helped him in the cuteness factor. “Did you get me something? What’s behind your back?” He piles on the questions.

“Slow your roll there buddy, I didn’t get you anything.” I say laughing still holding his present behind me. “C’mon.” he moans playfully. I give in and present his gift in front of him. His eyes go wide with joy and he jumps up and down as he grabs the box from my hands saying thank you multiple times. “Okay come on now we have to put it together.” I say to him. “Okay.” He says still excited and as energetic as ever. Darian leads us to the dining room table which was a black wooden table with four chairs, one chair per side. The rest of the kitchen’s interior was silver black and orange illuminated by the chandelier above us. Darian left us to be alone as he remained outside the living room watching Sunday football.

Me and Carl spend the next hour just talking with each other about how nice his adoptive parents were and how my life has changed here too.

“So is Darian nice to you, like he buys you toys and junk?” he asks. “No, he’s nice but I tell him not to buy me toys anymore.” I say “Why?” he asks as he places a piece of Superman’s face onto the puzzle. “I just don’t like toys anymore, I care about other stuff.” I tell him he just nods and looks at the puzzle. The pieces of the puzzle were scattered and there was a half-built mural of Superman before us as result of the past hour of us working on it. It was one of those challenging puzzles; you know the ones with like a 130 pieces? Carl always liked being challenged like that. So far we got Superman’s cape and part of his torso and half his face done.
Just then Carl accidentally dropped a piece that was at the edge of the table. “Oh shoot.” He says. “I’ll get it.” I say as I get out of my chair. I go under the table and try to look beneath the table for the missing piece, I look everywhere underneath the table and nothing shows itself. It isn’t there. I get back up and see Carl holding the piece in his hand. “Gee, thanks.” He says to nothingness to his left. I look at him thinking he was tricking me or something. “Oh nice you found it.” I say as I sit back down. “No I didn’t find it.” He says to me. I look at him in confusion. “What do you mean who found it?” I ask.

Just then a chill ran down my spine afraid of what he might say next. “My imaginary friend… Jacob.”

---

Sorry this one was a bit ate folks, as you can see I had out a lot of planning and thought into this and I really do appreciate your support, please tell me what you thought of the series and thank you so much for everything and for supporting me through making this thing.

Sincerely HR

Jacob Part 3

I was terrified; almost every night was sleepless and every morning was tiring. I could not stop thinking about Jacob and the way his body contorted into something evil when I had last spoken about God. And the images, I can’t keep them out of my head, they are always there; over a million ways to die and it was all in my head, like some kind of freak-encyclopedia of horror. Only it wasn’t horror, it felt much like what the preacher called hell. And it was in my head, oh god, I can’t go a night without crying and I just can’t get Jacob’s red eyes out of my mind. Those blood red eyes, telling me those four words:

God can’t save you

Was it true? Was God really incapable of saving me? Was I the only one out of his reach? Could he not hear me when I prayed at night? I don’t know, all I know now is that Jacob was angry with me. I was angry at him too for doing this to me, but I was also more scared than anything.

Every night I woke up crying and waking up Carl; it was both scary and upsetting at the same time, I mean obviously I would be upset by being scared but something else upset me even more than my nightmarish hell. This went on for a week until tonight when I woke up screaming and crying hysterically. I could not be calmed down but as my parents came bursting through my door, they showed no comfort. They were angry, heck- they hated me for waking them up so early in the morning.

“What the hell!?” grumbled dad as he walks into my room. The light then clicked on when dad flipped the switch “What is wrong with you?” Mom says with the look of fury on her expression and then dad jumps in: “Do you have any idea what time it is?” yelled Dad. “You woke up your brother! God now we will never get any fucking sleep!” She sighs loudly and groans as I was still sobbing and hugging my pillow “I had a nightmare, it was awful, I’m sorry!” I apologized through my tears as to make them stop yelling, though I had nothing to apologize for; it was not my fault that people were dying in my head. “Well too bad, we need sleep and so does your brother, so suck it up and sleep!” Those were dad’s last words as he and mom exited my room, flipped my light switch to off, and slammed the door.

From a distance I could hear dad and mom arguing and Carl still crying. At this point I hated my life. My own parents did not care about me or so much as say that it as just a dream, no, they refuse to comfort me and I was nothing to them. God, I don’t know why but I find myself missing Jacob, the good side of him but I resented that half of me that wished he was here only to remind myself that he did this to me. And just like that my rage toward him rises in my hot blood and my tears become heard and dry on my cheeks. I was tired of the nightmares and tired of Carl and tired of everything.

I looked for something to throw, anything to take my mind off my anger, off of Jacob. I then grabbed a glass figuring of an angel next to my bed on my nightstand and throw it into the darkness and across the moonlight shining through my window onto my wooden floor. But the angel didn’t hit the floor like I intended.

It is floating five feet in the air.

Then around the angel the hand of a familiar dark figure appeared and so did the rest of Jacob’s shadow-like body. He is in the moonlight of my room holding a ceramic angel in his hand and staring at the figurine. My breath is lost and my eyes are wide with terror. Hi white eyes are fixated on the angel then on me.

“Hello Sarah.” He says. “Go away! You did this to me!” I yell at him. But before I can say anything he rushes at me and covers my mouth in his shadows erupting from his hands, I try to scream but nothing comes out. “Shh, I know you must hate me right now, but I can explain.” He says, as he slowly retracts his shadow-like cover from my mouth. I really didn’t want any excuses I wanted him to go away forever but I decided to at least hear why he did it. “Fine, tell me.” I say as he glides over to me and places my angel figurine on the nightstand. He kneels down and looks me in the eye with his white eyes.

“Long ago, I was once an angle of God, I carried out whatever commands he asked of me and I did what he wanted me to do for thousands of years to come.-“ he explains, I am almost shocked to hear this, I thought angels looked prettier than he did now, and they didn’t have shadows covering every facial feature. But then I caught on to the word: was. “What happened, I mean your obviously not an angel.” I said almost sounding mean but Jacob didn’t take it that way.

“I was told by the devil one day that God planned on betraying the angels and casting us away. I was so sacred and furious that I had to do something.” He pauses and his eyes turn a sort of blue. “I killed off few of his priests and tore down a couple churches hoping that it would weaken him… it didn’t” He says in sadness and sorrow, I almost felt bad for him but wasn’t quite there yet.

“I was put on trial in the high courts of heaven with Satan there waiting to take me to the depths of hell. I was sentenced a verdict of guilty and was cast off into hell with Satan there to corrupt me. Word then came through from above that my brother Michael had took my place as the Archangel. And I was so furious I wanted to crush Michael, I wanted to get back at God for throwing me aside into hell. So now, I devote myself to helping others in order to someday show God that he has misjudged me.”

I didn’t know how to respond but I do know that Jacob was in a lot of ways, like me. He too was misjudged by his parents and was also the less favorable between him and his brother. I felt horrible about it and about being angry at him, and even though I had figured out that he was most likely a demon, he was still like a friend to me and I wasn’t going to blame him for being angry at him. “I’m so sorry…” I say silently. His eyes turn white again and he looks to the wall behind me. “No, it is I who owes you an apology.” He looks to me then slowly touches me head and without a second to lose all memory or thoughts of destruction and death had vanished, they no longer ran through my head like a movie on loop. I smiled and chuckled lightly at the realization of what he had done. “Thank you.” I say as he takes his arm away and stands up and walks the opposite direction,yo “No, thank you; goodbye Sarah.” He tells me but I stop him. “Wait! Don’t’ go.” He stops and turns to face me. “You can stay and protect me and my family, and then maybe you could prove that you are good again.” I say trying to sound hopeful, believe me I wasn’t too excited about letting him protect me and my family (considering he was a demon).

“Thank you Sarah, Now sleep tight.” And with that he dissipated into the shadows and I was left alone once more in the dark. Mom and dad were asleep with Carl and there was only one thing left for me to now and that was to sleep.

The next morning two men are found dead in my living room.

-TO BE CONTINUED

Horror Acronym Poem: Poetry Tuesdays

Horror Acronym Poem
H- Holy Shit! … What was that?
O- Only Live Once… UNLESS you a zombie!
R- Ruh Roh Raggy
R- Run, just fuckin’ Run!
O- Only you can prevent adolescents from having sex in an abandoned cabin in the middle of the forest with a serial killer in the loose.
R- Reading horror is sooooooooo much better.

Yeah I didn’t really think this one through but I missed my deadline twice already so hopefully you got a good laugh out of this.

Five Days Act V (finale) (Frightful Fridays)

ACT V

September 13th 2013, 7:45 am, my apartment

They let me out of the hospital this morning at seven. I was prepared to leave until I was stopped by the police who had a few questions for me.

Apparently even when you are scheduled to die today you still don’t get a day off.
The police had pulled me into a small room that was one of the head doctor’s office and I was seated in a small semi-pink/tan room that had belonged to one of the pediatricians here.

The place reeked of medicine, printed paper, coffee, and rubber gloves.

I sat in a metal chair across form two officers, one male and one female, probably in their thirties and in full uniform. What felt a bit weird was knowing the fact of what really happened back at John’s and having to leave parts of the story out, knowing that they will not believe me if I told them about Joseph or the Five day warning.

While I am sitting down the cops stand up and stare at me while they ask questions and almost never let me out of their vision.
Here’s how the interview went.

The tall bearded officer addressed me first:

“I’m sorry we had to pull you out like that but we have to ask you a few questions.” He stated

I sighed and responded, “Okay, what do you need to know?” I say. “Well-“started the female officer. “What were you doing there just out of curiosity?” She asks. “I came by to ask for some overtime, possibly a raise.” I responded. This did after all start with me asking exactly that.
By the way, fuck overtime.

The woman officer looked over to the male officer and the male officer continued. “So how did you come into contact with the killer? Or even see what happened?” Okay this part I had to lie about.

“Yes there was an escaped patient from the asylum that we worked at…” I start, “I uh, I witnessed him cut John in half from the waist with an antique sword from Stone-Brooke Asylum and-“ I stop and gulp as I remember the scene and just mutter to myself.

There was just so much blood; I could remember the slicing and tearing of flesh as the sword gracefully and quickly slit John’s body in half.
The blood and the tendons and bones just crushing under the pressure of the antique blade that should not have ever been allowed in the asylum. I could even envision the Satan-possessed Joseph/ Gregory attack John’s heart and soon enough his soul.

I snap out of my vision by being shaken up by the female officer. “Hey sir, snap out of it!” She shook both my shoulders and I jolt out of my vision. “W-what?” I stutter.

“What does that mean?” The man asks.

“What do you mean?” I ask in confusion. “What does ‘erit in laqu-‘ something? I don’t know what you said?” Fuck I was saying it aloud now, that goddamn phrase: erit in laqueum diaboli, et in iis, qui sine anima est animae.
I immediately got up and said I wasn’t feeling well and they reluctantly understood, after me rambling about how my head hurt they decided to let me go home.

Before I left they said they wanted to schedule a meeting sometime in the future. I personally don’t think there will be a future. Not saying that I don’t want to be interviewed, I just know that tonight… may be my last night on Earth.

September 13th 2013, 10:00 am, my apartment.

Fuck… I literally have no idea as to how I am gonna face him. Jesus I don’t even know what to do.

I guess I will just think real quick.

Ok, what DO I know about Joseph/Gregory/Satan?

Okay, He is the devil. He is also Joseph Stone-Brook who sold his soul to get rid of the suicidal souls of the asylum to the devil. The souls probably went to hell and the devil took a hold of Joseph’s body as an opportunity to walk the earth.
Then there was John who was elected by a great cult (who were stupid as hell) to keep watch over the devil and place him in the asylum. With holy water covering the walls he managed to keep the devil at bay.

But then John was punished for not obeying Satan and in response the devil branded John with that gigantic burned mark which healed rather quickly. Wait, now that I mention it, it was completely gone when we were at his home.

Wait a minute I remember the phrase still: erit in laqueum diaboli, et in iis, qui sine anima est animae.
The devil will take the souls of those who keep trapped the soulless.
Was Joseph the soulless? But wait then John had said … Holy fucking shit! Joseph is the soulless and he was without a soul after five days. That is what John said.
Okay so the heart is the soul; that is why Joseph- or the Devil- always goes for the heart and that is what that bright light that came from John’s heart was, (and my dream heart apparently).

Once Joseph ate the heart he consumed the soul of a human being… specifically the soul of those that help to keep the devil imprisoned. Which also means something else:

In order to keep the devil from killing me I have to kill him.
Because if the devil is imprisoned and he is after those who keep him concealed inside Joseph, then Josephs body needs to die in order to release him. I know it sounds stupid but it seems like the only way to survive.
Plus if the soul really does reside in the heart then Satan must have made his home inside Joseph’s heart.

That settles it… I will have to pierce Joseph’s heart in order to escape certain death.

I hope this helps.
The last thing I want right now is to die trying.

September 13th 2013, 8:00 pm, Stone-Brooke Asylum –possible final entry-

Ok, I think I may win this one.

I kind of over-prepared myself here.

So immediately after figuring out what to do, I quickly rush to find anything I could use as a weapon against the devil himself.

I even went through my father’s box of things he left in his will. It was located in my hall closet underneath all my high school stuff. After I snuffed it out I set it on the carpet floor of my apartment and rummaged through it while on my knees.

I had found a silver cross that was about the same size as my hand. My father was a pastor and well- I don’t want to write about it but there were some dark day’s that kinda led me to my disbelief in God for a while and I don’t know what to make of this cross other than it being a reminder of my pain.

But I am to shove those memories away and now find new meaning in this silver cross; I was now forced to find my only true salvation from the beast; who oddly enough, hasn’t so much as tried to write in my journal today let alone whisper in my ear. So I grabbed the cross along with my late father’s paperback brown leather bible.
As I walk away from the box of other bad memories of my late father I accidentally hit the box with my foot; then I hear a rattling in the box, almost like a glass bottle. Dad never had any glass objects given to me but I guess I must have missed something

I got back down on my knees and rummaged through it again. Then to my astonishment was a small bottle (not a vial but an actual hand-sized bottle) of holy water. To me it looked like a vial of plain water till I saw an old piece of paper attached
to it by an old piece of tape. It read:

Pastor Donally,
We thank you for your services and if you would so kindly accept this gift from the church as a token of our appreciation we would be most thankful. Here is a bottle of sacred holy water that has been blessed by our priests and was used during ceremonies of blessings performed by the church.
May you find God’s light in times of darkness and never be lost in the shadows.
Sincerely,
The staff of Saint Mary’s Cathedral and Joseph Stone-Brook

My heart sank when I read this.

Saint Mary’s hospital… Saint Mary’s Cathedral… Joseph Stone-Brook even had a charity with the cathedral to build Stone-Brooke Asylum. Shit I should have seen this; we were sponsored by Saint Mary’s… what the hell?
There was obviously more to the story so I checked the internet for more on Stone-Brooke asylum and Joseph Stone-Brooke.

It turns out that before the satanic possession of Joseph he had started a charity in order to build the asylum. The charity was for the mentally ill people of America. Now I take it that my Dad must have been given the bottle during his younger pastor days when he was 20 years old.

After all, my father outlived my mother and he lived to be 98 and died when I was 30 in 2002.

I was born in 1972 and I know that sounds weird but mom and dad were strictly religious and it took them a while to have a kid.
Anyways I guess before Joseph sold his soul he must have been a very well-known member of the church.

But what struck me as strange is that Joseph’s name was specifically on this bottle, had my dad been close to Joseph? I don’t know but I took the holy water anyways and I had found my switch blade that I had since I was 19 and I had dipped the thing in holy water. Hopefully this would have given me an edge when piercing Satan’s heart.

Ok, now I am ready.

I just hope that my faith will take me somewhere.
Because ever since my father died I had felt that God had abandoned me. I guess at some point we all have felt some sort of abandonment from him.
I guess that’s just something that happens in life you know?

Like imagine if you were to lose someone close to you; imagine yourself thrashing and yelling, even swearing at God because you were under the impression that he had took that person away from you.

In all the same time I guess that was what made me a non-believer in the first place. I had thought that God wanted to punish me with the loss of my father. Though he beat me and was cruel he was still my father and I loved him. Once he was gone I had despised religion.
But now that after all that has happened I realize that it was not God who had taken him away.

It was the exact opposite; for the devil took him.
Even somewhere in the bible it states that Satan hates those who are God’s allies and he would often times try to take them and corrupt them. My father must have been on that list and now he was gone.
Tonight I am doing this, not for my life but for my father and for everyone that the devil has claimed as his victim.

Tonight hell will be unleashed unto the world and I am to stop it from roaming the earth any longer.

Tonight I will most likely die.

But If I am to die, let this be a written confession to both God and anyone who gets a hold of this journal:

I believe in God now, I wish I always had but the sad truth is I hadn’t. But after the events that I have been through within the last five days, I can now say I believe.

After spending my whole life searching for meaning and purpose and just overall happiness, I finally realize that I was blind to not see it in God.
I know very well, that after tonight’s events I will either end up in heaven or hell. But either or I will be happy with what I will do tonight. I am going to stop the devil himself from roaming the earth any longer.
It was a mistake made by my boss and others to keep Joseph Stone-Brook in a cell at that Godforsaken asylum. But we all make mistakes and sometimes it is up to others to correct these mistakes.

Let everyone know that my belief will either aid me in my battle or within the afterlife. And I am happy to have gone into battle with my new found belief. And I will not be afraid to face the most imminent death knowing that I will now have God.

Hopefully he didn’t really abandon me… maybe he was just waiting for the right moment to come into my life.

Oh God if you hear me now, I am sorry for what I have said or done. But I will end this evil tonight or die trying.

I know I said before that I don’t want to die trying but now I see that it may be the only way.

After this journal entry I will not write anymore. I will leave you to assume that I have killed Satan’s vessel and he now burns in hell once more. And if not then that is all for you people who are now living to decide what to do about Joseph Stone-Brook.

I will have no will or anything, just this journal of the last five days to become my final testament.

Goodbye.

September 14th 2013, 6:00 am, Joseph’s cell

I don’t know how to explain this, but I did it. I actually got him.
It was incredible it was exhilarating and everything but above all it was haunting and probably the bravest and most stupidest thing I’ll ever do.
I guess I should start explaining.

After I had written my testimony I drove to the asylum. As I was greeted by the orange leaved trees that surrounded the asylum I had felt a chill down my back. I was very uneasy and very nervous. I was all of these things even before the chill but this set of feelings was different. Then as I pulled into the dirt road that led to the usually-guarded gate, I noticed something odd.

There were no guards, the gate was wide open and so were the many gates after that. Hell, one gate was even yanked off its hinges. Shit, I knew this meant trouble.

I continued driving and my headlights shined ahead and onto the asylum. The parking lot had contained at least two or three cars but that was it.
As I parked I glanced at the full moon within the night sky. It was a clear night. Possibly the most beautiful light I will ever lay my eyes upon. So I savored the beauty of it for a bit. After a while I left my car with the knife, my silver cross, and my dad’s bible along with my small bottle of holy water in my pocket. I held the bible and cross together with my left hand (my non-fighting hand) and the knife with my right (Fighting hand)

I slowly walk, feeling fear in every step. I come to the large 8-foot tall front door and find it to be wide open and nothing but darkness had been there. Then that’s when I saw the florescent lights flicker on and reveal the asylum’s lobby.
Within that moment I saw blood and bodies everywhere. Organs and intestines along with ripped-off skin and broken bones had covered the floor. Blood splattered the walls and the ceilings as well. Each body had their chest ripped wide open or punched into… all of their hearts were missing.

To my best guess, I would say Satan had a little feast in here.

The bodies laid there in piles and all of them were still fully clothed. I recognized them as some of my friends and co-workers. Along with few of them I had noticed a couple of patients in a couple of piles. Fuck, I was so sick. I almost threw up but I had contained myself. I then stepped into the asylum and there I was in the dimly lit murder scene.

I continue to walk further into the asylum and toward the elevator within the middle of the room. Along the side of the walls I had noticed that the knight that was wielding a sword in the corner of the lobby was missing a sword… guess that’s where Joseph had obtained a sword, and possibly slaughtered his victims.
I continue toward the elevator. The silver doors were framed by the Victorian stone carved entrance and had a silver panel next to it with two buttons vertical from each other. Left button was up, the right button was down. (Yes this godforsaken place has a basement.)

I was hesitant but I clicked the up button and the elevator dinged open and the silver doors part to let me into the surprisingly clean elevator. Thankfully, there was no blood or guts or half-eaten hearts in this elevator. He must have taken the stairs.

I step in with my arsenal at the ready and under my breath I recite a prayer that my father had taught me when I was little. Oddly enough, I remember it very well.

“The Lord is my shepherd I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me along still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death I shall fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head in oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me throughout the days of my life.
And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

After I rehearsed this to myself I opened my eyes to hear the elevator ding and the doors don’t sling open for at least a whole minute.

“It’s gonna take more than a few bible verses to cast me out, Jason” Whispered Joseph in my ear from behind me. I didn’t turn around, but looked straight at the
silver doors in front of me. I knew he was just a voice; another illusion used just to trick me.

“I know. But I will throw your ass back to hell if I have to.”

“You couldn’t if you tried.” He countered.

“You will be imprisoned once again and this time not by the people of this asylum.”

I then heard him cackle softly. “Why the change of heart Jason?” He started.“You used to hate God, what made you come begging on your knees with your dick tucked between your legs?” He made me angry but I resisted turning around.

“Because I would rather be on his side than yours; now if you would excuse me I have to go and kill you.” I said in a matter of factly tone. He laughed then started again.

“Well then, what are you waiting for? I’m right behind you.” He cackles.

“No you are not; you are just a voice you are still in your cell.” Just then the elevator doors opened to reveal dozens of patients from their cell’s on the hallway floors, screaming and thriving in agony as they are covered on blood and open wounds. Some of them even had missing limbs and few of them lay there dead with their blood spread across the walls, floors and ceiling of the halls. Hell, even the florescent lights had some blood on them.
“What the hell?” I exclaim in horror, my eyes wide with terror. Just then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I froze and then I heard him whisper once more. “No… not yet.” Just then, with my knife at the ready I reach around and slice at Joseph’s chest.

This time he was shirtless and only had pants so I made definite skin contact. The switchblade created a large gash into his terribly pale and black veined skin. He let out a loud screech of pain as the wound had sizzled loudly and released black blood. He was thriving in agony and his dark round eyes turn a blood red as he holds his head in pain.

I take this opportunity to start to stab him, perhaps even weaken him. A few victims of the massacre in the hallway that were still alive were shouting at me to kill him so I continued stabbing him.
Over and over, wound after gruesome wound I kept stabbing him; it didn’t occur to me that my goal was to get his heart but I was too angry to focus on my original plan.

The multiple wounds to his body had sizzled so much I swear they could have started a fire. He continuously shrieked in agony piercing my very eardrums but I didn’t care. I just wanted to see him in pain. Black blood continued to spill on the floor and then suddenly he stopped screeching and falls flat on the floor below me.

Now here I am sitting in the halls with all the patients who surprisingly dropped

dead after I killed Joseph. Lucky I always carry my journal. It was a pocket journal with its own personal pen, so why not?

Now that he’s dead I no longer- wait a minute.

I just noticed that I did stab Joseph’s heart. Like multiple times, looks like I really did go according to my plan.

Huh, you know it’s very strange it all seemed a little too easy; you would think Satan would try a little harder to not be killed or at least have his plan ruine-

Fuck, Joseph’s body is gone.

Holy shit I just heard his cell door from across the hallway slam shut.

I am going to check to see if he really is dying or not. I literally cannot walk out of here assuming I killed him and he is just writhing in pain in that room.

Okay here goes nothing.
–
Oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck.

No time to write just fucking hide.
–

Oh god, I was wrong, I was so fucking wrong.

If anyone finds this then my plan has failed. Please don’t go looking for me. Don’t go looking for Joseph. Don’t even attempt to investigate this or anything that has to do with Joseph Stone-Brooke.

In fact, if you find this journal, BURN IT.
Don’t even take a second look at it. Just fucking BURN IT. Give me at least that

before I die tonight.

Oh no, I hear him coming, he’s here… he’s
–
erit in laqueum diaboli, et in iis, qui sine anima est animae.

You should have listened Mr. Donally.
Goodbye.

DETECTIVES LOG – STONE-BROOK MASACRE #1

June 26, 2014 1:58 pm

This is the journal of employee and orderly of Stone-Brook Asylum: Jason Dietrich Donally.

His whereabouts are unknown to this day.

The reports say his body was assumed to be one of the many disfigured and massacred victims of those that were found dead within the halls of the asylum. Mr. Donally however, was not found amongst the carnage, yet his journal remained. I have obtained this journal from the evidence locker today and I am one of the only two people who have read it.

This Journal contains entries which describe that last five days that he had been working with an unknown fugitive at Stone-Brook Asylum. This fugitive however was not found within the database in the FBI, CIA, or Homeland Security. It is rather odd that Gregory “The Cannibal” Richards was everything but real.
At least to the database of course.

But I must confess there are certain reports on the grave robbery of Joseph Stone-Brook, which suggests that a cult and its leader by the name of John Duran who was reported dead since 1956 was more than involved with Joseph Stone-Brook’s grave robbery. John’s son however, was the one who was supposedly killed by this Gregory Richards. His name was John Duran Jr. the suffix wasn’t very public so automatically he was assumed Sr. instead.

The phrase: erit in laqueum diaboli, et in iis, qui sine anima est animae.

Which was in the journal is real too but it seems as though everything Jason had mentioned about it being popular had been wiped clean from the internet. We did a mass search and found nothing. No cults, no blogs, nothing.
But these loose ends and strange twists and turns are not what have bothered me.
I have looked into the theory of a human heart containing the soul and it kind of adds up.

And I looked even deeper and found that Jason’s father was in the church missionary at twenty-years old and was an old friend of Joseph Stone-Brook.

The mass suicide did happen as well. For some odd reason half the asylum simultaneously committed suicide by slitting their wrists or their throats. This had led to the deterioration and failing health of Joseph Stone-Brook. Shortly after the suicide there have been reports of paranormal activity and apparitions of the mass suicide patients which were reported to even the police as well.
The craziest thing of them all is that five days prior to the apparition reports were filed; Joseph Stone-Brook had died.

I know it is all probably one big coincidence, and it should probably be disregarded. But I am a detective and it is my job to not believe in coincidence.

Oh, excuse me my cell phone rang.

Sorry that was my partner, Sterling. He told me to examine the journal carefully for some odd reason; I just don’t know what his big deal is with this damn thing.

I know that it was some very important evidence over a year ago but that doesn’t mean he has to get on my ass about it.

Huh, I just looked at the back cover of the journal: there’s something written in Latin or something.
It says: Quinto Dies

Let me look at it real quick online.

Five Days.

THE END.

---

Hey guys, thanks for reading FIVE DAYS, a little short story series I put together that was inspired by my many hours spent researching insane asylums and cults. No these events are not real and any persons or locations depicted in these stories are fictional and any similarities between this stuff and reality is PURELY a coincidence.

Still its pretty fucking creepy so please like share and follow me and here are the links to the other parts to Five days is your not fully caught on:

All Acts: https://oc950.wordpress.com/?s=Five+days+act+I

Sincerely, Hells Reject. (PS sorry this post was late, I am a busy man.) 😉

Five Days Act III

Act III

September 11th 2013, 2:00 pm, My Apartment

I had a dream earlier today.
I was inside Gregory’s cell at the asylum. I was in my orderly uniform and Gregory sat on his bed across from me. The cell door was behind me and I just looked at him on the bed… curled in a ball and rocking back and forth holding his sweaty head.
He looked panicked and very miserable. He just sat there holding his head tightly as if it was going to fall off. I stared at him, I wanted to speak to him but I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea.
I just remained standing there, staring at him.
Upon his bed, which was unmade, he kept whispering some words, and I almost recognize them. I move closer to him from the other side of the room but not too close, just close enough for me to hear his silent speak.
“Erit in laqueum diaboli, et in iis, qui sine anima est animae. Erit in laqueum diaboli, et in iis, qui sine anima est animae.” He said this over and over, sounding more scared each time.
These words were in my journal from last night. Did he write that?
“Gregory?” I ask. Without missing a second he stopped whispering and cocked his head toward my direction and just stared at me and began to cry.
He sobs almost uncontrollably and he just drops and unfolds himself on the floor from off his bed. He then curls up again on the floor and sibs even harder. I almost rush to help him until he speaks up.
“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER! RUN! YOU SHOULDN’T BE HERE! HE WILL GET ANGRY!” He still sobs while he tries to sound angry and frightening towards me, but I just felt sorry for him. Oddly enough he didn’t give off a scary kind of vibe anymore. If anything I was concerned.
“What do you mean; who will get angry?!” I ask sounding more confused than ever. Just then the crying stops, tears stream down his face as it displays pure terror yet content at the same time. Without warning, his body twitches then is spread eagle upon the pavement floor. His eyes stare at the ceiling and tears stream down his cheeks as he lets out a silent cry from his open mouth.
He was paralyzed and he couldn’t move at all.
Fear pierces my heart and the hairs in the back of my neck began to stand up, as Gregory Richards is lifted from the floor (still in his position) his limbs dangle as he levitates slowly to my eye level- then stops.
His head turns to me, with eyes black as night. His face was void of any traces of the real him. This was something else.
He then smiles that wicked smile again while floating in the air still. I gasp and try to hold down my vomit from remembering last night’s events.
He laughs cackles actually, his voice sounding deeper than usual; this wasn’t Gregory Richards anymore; it was something evil.
He stops then keeps his stare toward me. “You’re going to die soon…” Before I could utter a syllable he-
He just… His body explodes.
His entire body exploded like a fucking bubble and his insides spread everywhere and I was in the splash zone. I was drenched; head to toe in his blood and intestines. I shiver and stay still before I collapse on my knees and vomit onto the now blood soaked concrete floor.
Fuck it felt so real.
I woke up; persuaded by my dream I called the asylum.
That’s when John answered. I could hear a laughing sound in the background.
“Hello? John is that you?” I asked him. He inhales sharply as if laughing from a really good joke.
“Thank you Jason; thank you!” He practically is giddy with happiness from the other side of the phone line.
“For what?…” I was almost hesitant to ask why.
“Oh no, you can’t play dumb with me, I saw the security footage; don’t worry I destroyed it.” He tells me as if to reassure me. “What do you mean?” I ask.
“You killed him… you saved me.” My heart sank and I almost drop to my knees.
“John, how did he die?” I ask, I know I didn’t kill him.
I was in my bedroom the entire time. But I knew that acting like I knew what he was talking about would make him explain clearly.
“You should know, you stabbed the guy; but don’t worry I covered for you. He has been labeled the victim of self-infliction.” He says laughing. “He killed himself.” I utter under my breath. “Yes a little over an hour ago, and then you clocked out and left for the day; remember?”
Just then my teeth started chattering, my entire being had shivered and shook and I was truly terrified.
“John, I didn’t go to work today.” I shattered his illusion by no less than a crack. He had rejected all threads of truth I had told him. The more I told him I wasn’t there at work, the more he just told me I was sick or something and that I needed rest; but I can still hear fear creep into his voice.
Then I remembered something. Five days.
“John; did any of the other workers that watched Gregory make it to five days?”
“What?” He said sounding as if he didn’t know what I was talking about.
“Did any of the people that watched Gregory before me ever make it to five days, and if they did. Are they still alive today.” I asked. There was silence. “C’mon John I need a straight fucking answer!” I shouted.
“Okay! No they didn’t make it to five days, after the first day watching the poor bastard they quit.” He answered now sounding as irritated as me. There was silence until he answered again. “And no, they all died; all ten of them.”
That’s when I realized that John really was Gregory’s servant. “You have been feeding this fucker?” I was beyond pissed. I just couldn’t even have respect for him anymore.
“I made a deal in exchange for my own life; I was the first to watch him.” His voice trailed off and he sounded sad now.
“Well I hope you are fucking happy.” I said sarcastically. “But you are the only one out of all of us that made it this far… you must be special.”
Then there was a long sustained dial tone. “Hello?” I asked but I didn’t wait for an answer, I hung up and sat there on my bed. Shit, Gregory was dead… I was just in shock. I was even still trying to comprehend how I could have been seen in the footage when I wasn’t even there.
I was scared, after what had just happened I can now say, I believe in the supernatural, so much now that it is no longer superstition to me; it was reality.
There are demons, there are angels. There’s heaven and there’s Hell. There is a God, and there is a devil.
…wait a minute.

September 11th 2013, 8:00 pm, My Apartment.

I did some dirt digging and I had found something.
First I started with that writing that Gregory had left me in my other entry.
I searched it online and I found out that: erit in laqueum diaboli, et in iis, qui sine anima est animae. Actually means: The devil will take the souls of those that keep trapped the soulless.
Along with it came thousands of links to these websites dedicated to this phrase.
After hours of searching and studying and searching, I finally found a little background story to this phrase.
In 1930, The founder of Stone-Brook Asylum, Joseph Stone-Brook, had sold his soul to the devil (as proven by supposedly found journal in the wake of his death) in order to lift the asylum’s curse. (He was insane and took way too much Valium with his whiskey) He believed that the asylum was haunted by the souls of those that killed themselves in the asylum after a series of lobotomies that have gone horribly wrong.
The asylum was his so-called legacy so these were some desperate times for him. He was convinced that business was bad because the ghosts of a few bad lobotomy/suicide victims had haunted the property.
He was the told by Lucifer himself, that he will grant his request but in one condition: The devil would have to take possession of Joseph and share this vessel with him.
Now overtime his body just became a vessel for Satan and Joseph’s soul kept aging and aching and just flat out died eventually. Now Joseph (according to the website) was dead and the devil had left the vessel.
Until some cult had dug up Joseph’s body and ran away with it; hoping that their master was still trapped within the soulless body of Joseph Stone-Brook.
The whereabouts of the cult and or Joseph remain unknown.
This was very interesting and creepy but it got even weirder when I noticed something: In the picture of Joseph Stone-Brooke, you can see very clearly that he looks exactly like Gregory Richards.
Right down to that last hair on his creepy and almost bald cranium. His black and partially buzzed haircut, his aged skin and long face; even his eyes were the exact same shape and size.
I really don’t know what was going on but I had an inkling as to what had happened which almost didn’t explain itself.
Joseph was Gregory; he had changed his name to cover his tracks. Which means the cult successfully resurrected him; now I was Satan’s next target.
“Fuck!” I shouted as I had just got off my laptop on my desk in my room.
This all still doesn’t explain the phrase.
“The devil will take the souls of those who keep trapped the soulless.” I could understand who the soulless was (Joseph/Gregory).
But there was more; who was the one that trapped him? How could anyone have trapped him?
What does it mean?

September 11th 2013, 11:59 pm, My Apartment

I am growing tired, I honestly cannot stay awake. I yawn loudly as I just sit here writing contemplating what the phrase meant.
Oh shit! I just realized today was day three it’s going to be number four soon.
Oh God, STAY UP STAY UP STAY UP.

Why hello Jason,
You are asleep now and I am truly sorry to tell you that you are missing something in this perplexing and overly complicated tale.
How old do you think your boss is?
50? 60? No, try 113…
Connect the dots then meet me at the asylum.
Sincerely,
Joseph.
PS- Day Four

September 12th 2013, 6:00 am, My Apartment.

Fuck… it happened again.
Why does he keep doing this? WHY?
WHY THE FUCK CANT HE GO AWAY? WHY ME?
IF YOU HEAR ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH; GET OUT OF MY LIFE!
STOP TOYING WITH ME YOU PSYCHO PIECE OF SHIT!
…

(TO BE CONTINUED)

Isabella

Being alone can cause insanity and that insanity can destroy you. If this insanity doesn’t kill you off the first chance it gets… then what happens is far more disturbing than death.

For example: I had worked with this man for at least a month, he was very strange and very odd for someone well in their forties; but that’s not what made him strange. He was a mortician, and yes that means he handles dead bodies after they have been taken in by the police. After the body was examined we had to incinerate it unless told otherwise.

Carl Hensley, the mortician, had loved his job; he would always greet every new body as if it was still alive or as if it was family. Whenever Carl had examined a body with me and after we were done with it, he had always brought the body into the incinerator room… alone. He would be in there for at least three hours before he came out of the room with an empty examining table and big suspicious grin upon his face.

He gave me very strict rules about the place once I had gotten this job such as; wash your hands, clean up at 6:00pm and do whatever he asks without question.

But there was one rule above all others that he just couldn’t stress enough:
Don’t go in the Incinerator room.

I didn’t question these rules because he paid very well for me being a mortician’s assistant. So life went on as I kept thinking he probably had a bad experience with an employee falling into the incinerator or something.

So now you’re wondering: Did I go into the room? Well, yes I did but not for long we will get there when we get there.
See it happened last Friday; Carl and I were examining the body of a young twenty-year-old woman and he was enjoying himself very much. Carl was a tall, brown-haired man with very pale white skin and was only forty-five years old. He was single, had no kids, and was very reclusive so his behavior often made sense to me dude to his personality. But even that didn’t excuse what he did that day.
The young dead woman had lay upon the table looking almost perfectly flawless; this one had been dead for two days and still looked amazing. She was pale (of course) and had black hair and black eyebrows. Her body was slender and nearly every part of her had made me wish I had that kind of body. I was a solid nine on a good day and a six on a bad one. The only thing I wish I didn’t have that was hers was her empty, eyeless sockets.

Okay now I know I sound more insane than the mortician right now but trust me this bastard is sick as fuck.
Our job right now was to prepare the body for the incinerator. We had stripped off the body of any clothing, jewelry and any other materials in or on the body. We were in a dark room with an examination light shining down on us. Carl was bent over above the woman’s head as he was trying to remove the woman’s earrings.

“Are we almost done here Carl?” I ask him but he just stays silent for a bit as I wait impatiently across from the examination table holding a pile of cloths that were taken off the woman. Finally he answers me once he had taken off the ear piercing while holding it with a set of pliers. “Almost” he says in sing-song. Shit, he creeped me out.

“Death is wonderful isn’t it?” I turn my head at his remark and squint my eyes. “I don’t know, depends on how you look at it.” I say hesitantly. “Well I think it’s wonderful-“He continues with a sigh and he places the tool and the piercing down on the tools tray next to him. “Just think about it-“He looks to me with his eyes staring at me seductively, I didn’t find it as seductive as he wanted it to be, but I was fairly creeped out. “-if someone had died then they can leave this painful vessel we call a body, leaving the keepers of their remains to care for their vessel and put it to good use.” I questionably stare at him and a chill runs down my spine. “Carl, what are talking about?” I ask, fear and concern had plagued my voice.

He looks back at the body and then leans forward to its forehead and kisses the dead woman’s head. I shiver and almost back away in disgust. But then I remember he was very friendly guy… a little too friendly. He always treated the bodies like family yet he had never done something like that before. I try to calm down and steady myself while I begin to feel nauseous.
“Umm, Carl, are you ok?” I ask. Without missing a beat he shoots straight up and looks at me realizing I was still there. “Oh Jodie, sorry I almost forgot you were here.” He apologized as if he was having an intimate moment with a girlfriend in front of company. He looked very nervous and eager as he pushed his glasses up his small narrow nose. “It’s okay.” I wished it was but it wasn’t I knew there was something up. Honestly, no sane person kisses the corpse of a dead person.

That night after clean-up, he disappeared into the Incinerator room for the end of his daily routine. After I had cleaned up all materials and had disposed of the cloths properly I started heading out for my Friday night out with my friends from the university.
But then I realized I gave my time-card to Carl during that examination with the woman. I almost hesitated to go into back into the examination room for the time-card but I couldn’t leave without it. It was one of his rules and I can’t afford to lose this job.
I the walk into the examination room and he wasn’t there. I look around and he wasn’t anywhere around here. Then I looked toward the double doors of the Incineration room from across the Examination room. I see the orange glow of the machine through the foggy window indicating he was in there.

Now I didn’t want to go in there for two reasons: a) I could lose my job for breaking his most crucial rule. And b) I didn’t want to know what he was doing.

The machine was automated and could do the incineration process on its own and turn itself off, so why did he have to stay there for a whole two to three hours?

Hesitantly I decided to go in there and get that stupid time-card. I really didn’t want to go in there but I didn’t want to keep my friends waiting.

I slowly walk over to the doors and just as I am about to open the doors I feel fear creep up in the back of my mind. ‘You saw what he did earlier, leave, leave and never come back.’ This thought had replayed over and over until I overcame it and slowly walk into the room. The room was warm and lit up by only a couple florescent lights.

The hair instantly stood up in the back of my neck as I crept in. The incinerator was the only thing on here and there was no sign of Carl. I walk around the room and see empty desks and then I saw the oddest thing; there were a rack of bloody, unclean tools hanging on a rack on the wall within this dimly-lit room. Then that’s when I notice there was a door next to the rack.
Underneath the door I can see a dim yellow light and shadows moving past the crack of the doorway. What was he doing in there? And why did were these tools here?

I slowly walk to the door and open the door slightly; luckily this door didn’t make a noise. I open it and the only thing here was a closet full of lab coats and scrubs hanging against the wall of the small cramped closet. Where the hell had he gone? I could have sworn I had seen his shadow pass under the light of this room and now he wasn’t there. My mind wandered in confusion for a moment until I heard something from within the closet.

“So… now we’re alone?” I hear Carl in the closet, maybe he wasn’t in here but that’s when I notice that there was light emanating from behind the lab coats and scrubs on the rack. There was an opening to another room behind this wall. “I missed you so much.” I heard him again.

Some part of me didn’t want to see what he was doing or who he was talking to. But like anyone who was impatient, I slowly kneeled down and peeked through the lab coats.

What I saw next, is still engraved into my brain to this day.

He had created a small square room that was lit by a single light bulb; in the center of the room was a small twin mattress and on that twin mattress was a naked woman. But this woman was different and horrifyingly familiar.

This girl had been made up of several women’s body parts stitched together. Blood had oozed from these parts and had stained the twin mattress it had laid upon. The body was sown together straight down to the feet the only major parts that weren’t messed up or unevenly sown together were the upper torso and the abdomen. The worse part about it was that the head of the corpse we had just got done examining had been sown on to the make-shift body.

I was repulsed I was almost about to vomit until I saw something worse than that.

Carl was naked and hovered over the body. “I missed you so much.” This sick bastard had spoken to this thing as if it was a loved one. He had looked at this thing with such affection. Then he got down on his knees and onto the bed with the corpse. “I love you. I have no one else besides you Isabelle.” He said while he leaned in close with the body as he brushed the hair of the dead woman off its right ear.

He even went as far as to give the corpse a name, a fucking name for God’s sake! What was he doing? Within a few seconds I finally figured out what he has been doing whenever he had been down here.

Before I could vomit he began to make out with the body and then sure enough, he began to have sex with it. I watched, unable to look away for an hour as he made love to the horrid creation of his.

You have not even faced traumatization until you have witnessed an act of necrophilia. Oh God I wanted to throw up. But I didn’t want to give my position away; for I had a feeling that if he knew I was here he would do more than just fire me… he would kill me.
He had finally stopped after an hour of moaning and penetrating something that was already dead, sweat pouring down his face and his body hunched over between the corpses’ legs. He stopped and looked at the body he lay on top of. He suddenly became upset and stopped making love to the dead body.

He then crawled to the corner of the room and scrunched up into a ball and began sobbing. I stare between the lab coats in disgust and curiosity. Why was he crying? Maybe he had realized how sick it was to have sex with a dead body, but sadly I was wrong.
“It’s not enough, Isabelle, It’s not enough!” He complained. “I know you’re not real, I know.” I keep listening and wondering what he meant by ‘not enough’. I’m glad he’s sane enough to know she isn’t real, at least I thought that was what he was saying.
“You need a soul! The eyes are what you need!” He shouted at the corpse as it laid there on the mattress motionless and its body contortioned strangely. I had almost forgotten the girl we had examined had her eyes gouged out. I guess he needed eyes otherwise he wasn’t happy with this thing.

He then stopped sobbing then spoke to himself. “And I know just where to get them…” his voice started to scare me. He then looked up and spoke again. What he said next shook my entire being from inside and out.

“Jodie…” He said silently; my soul felt cold and my eyes grew wide with terror. That’s it I got to get out of here. I had to report to the police what was happening before he comes after me. I was about to leave the closet now and I continue hearing him ramble on about how pretty my eyes were and how perfect I was for “Isabelle”.

I honestly was scared for my life knowing that he wanted to kill me to complete his work, but I wasn’t ready to die.

I quickly got up and made my way out of the closet until suddenly my phone rings and pierced the air with sound, revealing my position. “Fuck!” I say as a tear rolls down my cheek. I was genuinely afraid I was going to die down there with no one knowing where I was or what had happened to me. I honestly never felt so heartbroken and scared until my stupid phone rang. I was now being hunted by this psychopathic freak as I hear his voice stop talking.

I try to rush out of the small closet until I am grabbed by my leg and I am pulled into the hole that led into Carl’s secret room.

Suddenly I hear a faint ‘no’ come out from Carl’s mouth and I blackout as my head hits the concrete ground after being pulled into the hole from under my feet.

I wake up strapped to the examination table. Restraints had covered me head to toe and I was naked. In my mouth was horrible taste of a wash rag that got stuffed in my mouth to stop me from screaming.

My vision is blurred until I see him and it clears up again. My tears started up again and overlapped the dryness of the old ones as they rolled down my cheek. Immediately, I start screaming and almost pushing out the words: ‘help me!’
“No one can hear you scream, Jodie.” He says with a wicked laugh. He was still naked and had that evil grin upon his face. Next to his person was a tray of examination tools and of course eye gougers. Shit. “Just relax… hey, did I ever tell you how pretty your eyes were?” He says as he picks up the eye gouger.

Before he could do anything my fear had pumped me with adrenaline and I managed to push the rag out of my mouth with my lounge. “No, please, don’t hurt me.” I plead with him still sobbing. “I’m sorry about, Isabella, I know she means the world to you but you don’t have to do this.” I explain now with less sobbing.

“You don’t understand!” He shouts slamming the eye gouger onto the tools tray, shaking everything in it.
“No one understands…” He begins crying again and explains further as he leans against the table looking at me. “Isabella is all that I have left! My family is dead; I have no wife, no kids.” He continues while I try to slowly and without him noticing break out of my restraints.

“Every woman I have ever loved had always deceived me they all have just run away from me. You don’t know what it’s like to be truly alone!” My heart honestly breaks to hear this. I had finally snapped out of my restraint for my right arm and was poised to get the incision knife on the tray if he had tried something funny.

“Carl, I’m sorry, and I don’t know how you feel; but you can’t give up on life and on people, Isabella can’t be your life. She is not real.” I explain.

He then gives me a cold stare and says this: “I’m sorry Jodie, but she is as close to real as you can get now-a-days.” He says as he reaches for the eyes gouger and lets out a small chuckle.

“Then I am sorry about this.” I say, and as to his surprise I grab the incision knife and swing it at his chest and into his heart. It took only a few seconds before he dropped the eye gouger and started coughing up his own blood. I immediately untied my restraints and hopped off the table.

I then found my clothes on a small table nearby ad got dressed quickly when suddenly Carl spoke:

“D-don’t g-go…” He was on the verge of dying and could only say so much.

“I’m leaving Carl, die some more in Hell!” I shout at him.

“T-that’s f-fine, just don’t g-go, into the Incinerator room.” He then died with those being his last words. I brushed off what he said and I suddenly remembered I had dropped my cellphone in the Incinerator room. I turn to those double doors; the foggy windows still had orange light emerging form the incinerator.

Suddenly my blood ran cold. I didn’t want to go in there. I shook away my fear and ignore Carl’s late warning and rush through those doors. After which I proceeded to go into the still opened broom closet containing the entrance to the secret room of Isabella.
I felt a little jumpy and paranoid as I thought about Carl’s last warning. What did he mean? Was he scared of me getting to Isabella? I finally found my phone as it lay on the floor before the closet. The screen brightly lit with a notification saying only 20% battery had remained.
I pick it up and place it in my pocket, but not until I stop dead in my tracks. Should I check On the make shift body or what? I wanted to leave but a part of me said to check. So I pulled back the curtain-like lab coats and peered into the room. What I saw next still boggles and disturbs me to this day.

Isabella was gone… my heart sank and jumped to conclusions like: ‘Is she alive’ or ‘Did she walk out while Carl wasn’t looking?’
These accusations went on as I came to the only sensible and logical one: Carl must have moved the body once I had walked out.

So now here I am at home after at least a months’ time, blogging to you about this. I just felt the need to get this out you know? It just creeped me out because the detectives who investigated after I called 911 had seen all the evidence and then they questioned me.

At one point they ask me if there was anyone else with us at the time or did anybody else accompany him. I told them, that he was alone and I made it out alive (thankfully). That’s when they gave me this odd look. They didn’t tell me anything else but that they didn’t find the hidden body I told them about.

I guess Carl hid her pretty well.

Ok almost done I guess- Oh wait a minute I hear someone knocking at my apartment door, be right back.

I WAS WRONG, IT WAS ISABELLA SHE WAS OUTSIDE MY DOOR THIS IS NOT A FUCKING JOKE GODDAMNIT IF YOU SEE THIS THEN DON’T COME AND FIND ME, MOM, DAD I LOVE-

She has such pretty eyes…