(Started out 3rd person, liked it better in 1st. Enjoy.)
“I wonder what's up with him,” I mumbled as I passed his next-door neighbor, Daniel, in the tight hallway from the lobby of our apartment building. We both lived in one of those dilapidated, multilevel apartment buildings that you seem to see everywhere nowadays, and we've gone drinking with each other every now and then. However, today, Daniel didn't seem too much like his normal, brown-haired self; his eyes seemed bloodshot and haggard, and as he walked, he was leaned so far forward that it looked like he was struggling to move forward while in a gusting wind. I stopped and got another good look at Daniel, but then I just shrugged and walked out of the building, on my way to a bar to hang out with some mates from work.
Jokes and drinks were found in full force at the bar, and when I finally managed to get home, anyone could easily see that I wasn't entirely, er, sober. I climbed the stairs to the floor where his apartment was, and as I passed Daniel's door, I heard scratching noises coming from the door. For some reason I was awfully curious, so I stopped and slowly, so as not to lose my balance, leaned in to the door. After getting close enough to the door, I could finally tell where the sounds were coming from: the very bottom of the door. I drunkenly laughed at how much Daniel's cat was obviously scratching up the door, and after I finished chuckling at Daniel's door's expense, the noises stopped. Thinking that I must have scared away the cat, I stumbled to my door, eventually turned the key in the lock, and went in to take a nice, long sleep.
The next day, I woke up with a hangover from hell, but, thankfully, it was the weekend, so I didn't have to go in to my job at a local pharmacy. After trying unsuccessfully to mentally, through sheer force of will, to beat up my hangover and make it go back to whatever dark circle it came from, I slowly stood up and went to fix my some coffee.
When the coffee was done, I drank it black as night and straight from the pot, as always, and, after some thinking on what I had done last night that I could actually remember, I decided to get a shower then visit Daniel to see if he had been around the bar last night and, if he had been there, if he could figure out who's number was written on a note that I found tucked into my shoe. Hey, who can blame me? Maybe it was some decent looking chick's number.
The shower was refreshing, and afterwards, I felt ready to go see if Daniel could remember any of last night's fun. I made my way to Daniel's door, but instead of opening the door after I knocked, Daniel yelled, “Who the hell is it?” I kinda laughed and replied, “It's me, man, open the door. I just wanted to see if you knew who's number this is. I can't remember if you we-”
The short and rapid outwards thrust of the door and the sound of several chains from the door to the wall snapping taut rudely interrupted me. From the crack formed where the door was partway open, I stared back at two bloodshot eyes that accusingly glared at me out of a weary, anxious face. The face, Daniel, opened his mouth and angrily said, “I don't know of any damn numbers that you might have gotten from that bar, and I sure as hell don't want to see you right now.” Daniel looked at me for a few more moments, as if he was debating whether or not to say something else, but he soon shook his head and slammed the door shut again.
Suddenly remembering what I had heard the previous night, I knocked on the door again and said, “Ok, whatever, but you really need to take care of your cat. It sounded like it was trying to carve its name out of the wood last night.”
Instantly, I heard a voice shriek, “I DON'T HAVE A CAT! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY DOOR!” which was followed by a lung-heaving bout of coughing. Slowly backing away from the door, I looked at my hand and realized that I was shaking like crazy, and I quickly made my way downstairs and out of the building, where I hopped in his car and headed out to anywhere that was away from that building.
To calm myself down, I eventually decided to hang out with one of my old buddies from college who lived across town, and I spent the day playing Halo and generally just chilling with my friend. During the day, my nerves calmed down a bit, and I eventually, after eating some pizza at a joint down the street, said good night to my friend and went home.
After climbing up the stairs and passing Daniel's door, I heard those scratching noises again. I stopped in my tracks, and after moving closer to the door, I realized that the noises were coming from the top half of the door, where no cat could ever hope to reach. I leaned in and whispered, “Daniel, what the hell are you doing?” and the noises instantly stopped. I heard a quiet, sobbing voice frantically say in an increasingly louder voice, “I believe you now Alex he has no face but he sees me too he comes with the fire to send me to the trees oh god help me he sees me too Alex oh god he's going to open me oh god he sees me oh god oh god HE SEES MEEEEEEEEEEE!”
As if answering the sound of this scream, a dull thump sounded outside the building, and then it seemed as if the whole world became unnaturally still and quiet. I heard some rustling on the other side of the door, as if Daniel was turning around, and I heard a soft whimper as something began tapping inside Daniel's apartment, perhaps from the window. The problem with this tapping is that there's no way it was possible; our floor was on the freaking third story of the building.
I felt frozen in place, and I wanted to run away and lock myself in, but it was like a car wreck: it was so outside of the norm and practically yelling “Danger! Danger!” that I just couldn't tear my eyes from the spot. The tapping continued, and so did the whimpering. Eventually I uprooted myself from my spot a few feet from the door and for some strange reason, I felt like comforting Daniel. I've got no idea why I got that idea, but the guy was scared out of his ****ing mind, and I almost don't regret my decision. Almost.
I started to lean closer to the door, like the idiot that everyone sees in those crappy horror flicks, but something stopped me. I want to think it was my common sense kicking in and telling me to get the hell away from there, but that's not what really what happened. When I moved closer to the door, I felt... some presence, pushing against me as it was leaking out of the room. It felt hateful, hungry, and above all, cold, and that's what finally made me cut it loose and run like all of hell was after me. At that point, I didn't care what the hell happened to Daniel, and I ran downstairs to my car, cranked it up, and got ready to get out of that hellhole.
However, something, maybe that presence, felt like it was calling to me, and I couldn't keep myself from looking back at Daniel's window. For a second I couldn't see the window because a big tree was blocking the view, but when that tree raised its arms and something white that I had mistaken for the moon started to turn towards my car, I realized that there has never ever ever been any ****ing tree anywhere near our building.
At that point, I blacked out. Maybe whatever that presence was finally got to my mind, maybe not. I have no clue. When I woke up, I was lying in a bed in the hospital...
-Excerpt from written testimony by Will Alkelheim, prime suspect in the murder of Daniel Toole and in the arson of the Splendorvale apartment building, which was burned down shortly after the suspect "blacked out." The suspect had soot stains all over his body and several empty gas cans in the backseat of his car.
When asked for a testimony, he refused to talk about it, saying "he's listening to me; I can't say anything." After some convincing, he finally agreed to write his testimony on the condition that after we are done, we "burn all of the notes." Surprisingly, he remembered the events in vivid detail, but his hallucinations of some creature are obviously just that: hallucinations.
Investigation ongoing.
“I wonder what's up with him,” I mumbled as I passed his next-door neighbor, Daniel, in the tight hallway from the lobby of our apartment building. We both lived in one of those dilapidated, multilevel apartment buildings that you seem to see everywhere nowadays, and we've gone drinking with each other every now and then. However, today, Daniel didn't seem too much like his normal, brown-haired self; his eyes seemed bloodshot and haggard, and as he walked, he was leaned so far forward that it looked like he was struggling to move forward while in a gusting wind. I stopped and got another good look at Daniel, but then I just shrugged and walked out of the building, on my way to a bar to hang out with some mates from work.
Jokes and drinks were found in full force at the bar, and when I finally managed to get home, anyone could easily see that I wasn't entirely, er, sober. I climbed the stairs to the floor where his apartment was, and as I passed Daniel's door, I heard scratching noises coming from the door. For some reason I was awfully curious, so I stopped and slowly, so as not to lose my balance, leaned in to the door. After getting close enough to the door, I could finally tell where the sounds were coming from: the very bottom of the door. I drunkenly laughed at how much Daniel's cat was obviously scratching up the door, and after I finished chuckling at Daniel's door's expense, the noises stopped. Thinking that I must have scared away the cat, I stumbled to my door, eventually turned the key in the lock, and went in to take a nice, long sleep.
The next day, I woke up with a hangover from hell, but, thankfully, it was the weekend, so I didn't have to go in to my job at a local pharmacy. After trying unsuccessfully to mentally, through sheer force of will, to beat up my hangover and make it go back to whatever dark circle it came from, I slowly stood up and went to fix my some coffee.
When the coffee was done, I drank it black as night and straight from the pot, as always, and, after some thinking on what I had done last night that I could actually remember, I decided to get a shower then visit Daniel to see if he had been around the bar last night and, if he had been there, if he could figure out who's number was written on a note that I found tucked into my shoe. Hey, who can blame me? Maybe it was some decent looking chick's number.
The shower was refreshing, and afterwards, I felt ready to go see if Daniel could remember any of last night's fun. I made my way to Daniel's door, but instead of opening the door after I knocked, Daniel yelled, “Who the hell is it?” I kinda laughed and replied, “It's me, man, open the door. I just wanted to see if you knew who's number this is. I can't remember if you we-”
The short and rapid outwards thrust of the door and the sound of several chains from the door to the wall snapping taut rudely interrupted me. From the crack formed where the door was partway open, I stared back at two bloodshot eyes that accusingly glared at me out of a weary, anxious face. The face, Daniel, opened his mouth and angrily said, “I don't know of any damn numbers that you might have gotten from that bar, and I sure as hell don't want to see you right now.” Daniel looked at me for a few more moments, as if he was debating whether or not to say something else, but he soon shook his head and slammed the door shut again.
Suddenly remembering what I had heard the previous night, I knocked on the door again and said, “Ok, whatever, but you really need to take care of your cat. It sounded like it was trying to carve its name out of the wood last night.”
Instantly, I heard a voice shriek, “I DON'T HAVE A CAT! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY DOOR!” which was followed by a lung-heaving bout of coughing. Slowly backing away from the door, I looked at my hand and realized that I was shaking like crazy, and I quickly made my way downstairs and out of the building, where I hopped in his car and headed out to anywhere that was away from that building.
To calm myself down, I eventually decided to hang out with one of my old buddies from college who lived across town, and I spent the day playing Halo and generally just chilling with my friend. During the day, my nerves calmed down a bit, and I eventually, after eating some pizza at a joint down the street, said good night to my friend and went home.
After climbing up the stairs and passing Daniel's door, I heard those scratching noises again. I stopped in my tracks, and after moving closer to the door, I realized that the noises were coming from the top half of the door, where no cat could ever hope to reach. I leaned in and whispered, “Daniel, what the hell are you doing?” and the noises instantly stopped. I heard a quiet, sobbing voice frantically say in an increasingly louder voice, “I believe you now Alex he has no face but he sees me too he comes with the fire to send me to the trees oh god help me he sees me too Alex oh god he's going to open me oh god he sees me oh god oh god HE SEES MEEEEEEEEEEE!”
As if answering the sound of this scream, a dull thump sounded outside the building, and then it seemed as if the whole world became unnaturally still and quiet. I heard some rustling on the other side of the door, as if Daniel was turning around, and I heard a soft whimper as something began tapping inside Daniel's apartment, perhaps from the window. The problem with this tapping is that there's no way it was possible; our floor was on the freaking third story of the building.
I felt frozen in place, and I wanted to run away and lock myself in, but it was like a car wreck: it was so outside of the norm and practically yelling “Danger! Danger!” that I just couldn't tear my eyes from the spot. The tapping continued, and so did the whimpering. Eventually I uprooted myself from my spot a few feet from the door and for some strange reason, I felt like comforting Daniel. I've got no idea why I got that idea, but the guy was scared out of his ****ing mind, and I almost don't regret my decision. Almost.
I started to lean closer to the door, like the idiot that everyone sees in those crappy horror flicks, but something stopped me. I want to think it was my common sense kicking in and telling me to get the hell away from there, but that's not what really what happened. When I moved closer to the door, I felt... some presence, pushing against me as it was leaking out of the room. It felt hateful, hungry, and above all, cold, and that's what finally made me cut it loose and run like all of hell was after me. At that point, I didn't care what the hell happened to Daniel, and I ran downstairs to my car, cranked it up, and got ready to get out of that hellhole.
However, something, maybe that presence, felt like it was calling to me, and I couldn't keep myself from looking back at Daniel's window. For a second I couldn't see the window because a big tree was blocking the view, but when that tree raised its arms and something white that I had mistaken for the moon started to turn towards my car, I realized that there has never ever ever been any ****ing tree anywhere near our building.
At that point, I blacked out. Maybe whatever that presence was finally got to my mind, maybe not. I have no clue. When I woke up, I was lying in a bed in the hospital...
-Excerpt from written testimony by Will Alkelheim, prime suspect in the murder of Daniel Toole and in the arson of the Splendorvale apartment building, which was burned down shortly after the suspect "blacked out." The suspect had soot stains all over his body and several empty gas cans in the backseat of his car.
When asked for a testimony, he refused to talk about it, saying "he's listening to me; I can't say anything." After some convincing, he finally agreed to write his testimony on the condition that after we are done, we "burn all of the notes." Surprisingly, he remembered the events in vivid detail, but his hallucinations of some creature are obviously just that: hallucinations.
Investigation ongoing.
