I’ve been lying in my room for hours now. It’s 5:30 am and there’s not much I can do. You know what the worst part of my situation is? I’m in the same room with my parents. They keep looking at me, and I can’t help but not look back and try not to cry or scream.
Their eyes are focused on me and their mouths are wide open. There’s a strong scent of blood and I feel so paralyzed with fear. Here’s the thing. The second I make any hint that I’m not asleep anymore, I’m screwed. I’ll die, and there’s nobody around to save me. I’ve been trying to think of a way out, but the only idea I have is to rush for the door, run outside, and scream for help, hoping any neighbors hear me. It’s risky, but if I stay here, I’ll surely die.
He’s waiting for me to wake up and see his masterpiece. You’re probably wondering what’s going on. I do get ahead of myself sometimes. About three hours ago I heard screaming from the other side of the house. I got up and went to check the noise before I realized I had to use the restroom.
Instead of doing the smart, noble thing and investigating, I used the bathroom first. I could have gotten myself killed right then for my stupid actions. But I actually did my business and took a peek outside the bathroom. There was blood on the carpet. As any other sane human would do, I bolted back to my room, hiding under my sheets like the scared I was. I tried to convince myself to go back to sleep, and that this was just some weird, vivid dream or something. But I heard my bedroom door creak open, and like the terrified child I was, I peeked out from under my blankets to see what was going on.
I could see something dragging my parents into the room, obviously dead. It was not human, I can tell you that much. It was hairless, with no eyes and no clothing. It walked like a caveman, with its back slouched as it dragged my dead parents. But this thing was smarter than any caveman.
It propped my father against the edge of the bed, and made him face me. It then sat my mother down in the chair and positioned her towards me as well. Then, it started rubbing it’s hands along the walls, staining it with blood, drawing a circle with the devils pentagram in it. This thing had made what it would probably call a masterpiece.
To finish it off, it scrambled a message onto the wall that I could not read in the darkness. It then positioned itself under my bed, waiting to strike.
The scariest thing now is, my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and since then, I can read the message on the wall. I don’t want to look at, because it’s terrifying to think about, but I feel I need to see before I’m killed.
I peek at the creature’s masterpiece.
‘I know you’re awake.’