Maneater
I was jealous, extremely jealous, and to make this dirty, rotten feeling even more vile the person whom I was jealous of was my very own little brother. More specifically I was jealous of his relationship, his life. He was going to be a husband and not just any normal, typical husband, he was going to be the husband to the most beautiful women I had ever seen. My own little bible thumper brother finally one upping me. I turned bitter. I hated it. Me and him shared only half blood and even though we were raised in separate households we remained close, we kept our brotherly connection. I remember as kids we would sneak out late at night, sometimes in the early hours of the morning. We’d meet at the park and play until sunrise. I missed those times, I missed how he used to be, but most of all I missed how I used to be. But as people do they change and we could not have turned out any more opposite. He grew up with our dad, with Christian beliefs, going to church every Sunday, praying before every meal, he was a real believer some would say. For me I became a disappointment, thirty seven years old with no wife, a crappy job and a bit of an alcohol problem. My life had turned out different, no religion, no discipline. I was at a very low point and my little brother was the shining star of the family, even though he didn’t mean it he was constantly rubbing it in my face with his fancy car and house. Not to mention his happy smiling wife standing by his side. I remember the day he told me he was dating her. He showed me a picture of her on his phone and I told him, ‘Get out of here, you’re not going with her, probably a catfish.’ Well a short while later I stood face to face with the women on the phone. She was gorgeous. She was so gorgeous that I’d go as far to say she was perfect. She had a healthy glow to her face that always lit up the room. There were no problems in her facial features, everything delicate in proportion, nothing I could possibly say to bring her down. A very pretty woman would be the only correct way of describing her. When they both left that day hand in hand, my jealous nature took over. To match this she was so sweet, never had anything bad to say and spoke in a soft whisper. She never wore a drop of makeup and for some reason she was completely obsessed with Mason. It was as if he had created her in a lab, the perfect wife. There was no wonder why he proposed only six months into the relationship. Them both together were the closest thing I’d seen to angels on earth, So pure and innocent. Sorry to repeat myself but I hated it. Closer and closer the days came towards the wedding the more my rage grew. And knowing I was destined to be the best man and knowing I’d have to make some sort of stupid speech depressed me even more. I always teased my little brother, picked on him a little bit, told myself I was making him tougher, more thick skinned. Is this all those times coming back to haunt me? Has all those times manifested into his future wife Lily? A big old screw you big bro look at me now. This is what I thought at least and this made me act the way I did. The big day was here and of course I arrived late. Scared to have to talk with people and lie, telling them how great my life was I thought arriving later would tighten the gap of awkward small talk. I immediately dived into the booze believing it would be the only way to get me through this without bursting out in a tantrum of tears, screaming it’s not fair. And of course it being my brother’s wedding it was in a church, filled with mostly strangers and family I hadn’t seen in years. I chose to sit alone as everyone talked and laughed around me. This went on until the ceremony was ready to commence. I entered onto the stage and me and Mason stood in our black suits, his a lot nicer than mine. We waited for the bride to appear down the aisle. When she entered the room everyone’s jaw dropped, including mine. For once in a wedding the woman underneath the dress stood out more than the dress itself, she was stunning, somehow looking more beautiful than usual. Walking towards us she held onto our father who couldn’t look more proud of his son. They both looked into each others eyes and promised to live an eternity together, kissing all so romantic and loving, people cheering in the background. This only made me more thirsty. Longer the day went on the more hammered I got and by dinner time I was completely steaming drunk. After visiting the toilet and almost vomiting my guts out, my brother stood up on a table, a little drunk himself which was a rarity. He held a glass of wine, tapping it with a silver spoon. “Everybody, everybody, quiet down and listen to my dear brother’s best man’s speech.” He looked at me with encouraging eyes and pointed in my direction, demanding me to begin. So with all this built up resentfulness and spite against my little brother I did, in my rather intoxicated state I said pointing back towards him and engaging the crowd with flamboyant hand gestures, slurring some words. “Happy f-f-f-fucking birthday to Mr perfect over here, you little f-f-f-four eyed f-f-f-fuck, why don’t you go and, and, and finally lose your virginity you little nerdy looking piece of…” Someone came from behind me and escorted me away from the table. For a moment time stood still, but I soon realized it was just the deafening silence surrounding me. I begrudgingly stumbled my way to the exit, even in my drunken stupidity I felt more than a little embarrassed. I must have got a taxi home and crashed out on my couch. When I woke up with a pounding head it was only 10PM. Jesus I must have left early. I had a funny thought after this. If my brother lived in my head he’d be telling me to stop using the lord’s name in vain, thankfully he doesn’t. Checking the time on my phone a random number suddenly appeared, through habit and not paying much attention I accidentally answered it. It was my dad, the dad that wasn’t there for me, the dad that probably called just to scold me and tell me how much of a screw up I was. He said in his scratchy tone “Look, what you did was real shitty son, you know Mason really looks up to you, I have no idea why but he does and you go out there today of all days and do that to him.” I had no answer. “All I’m asking you to do is apologize to him. And Lily.” “Fine,” I replied and hung up. I tried calling him to somewhat apologize but there was no answer. So with all my wisdom and still slightly tipsy from the free beer I decided to head to his house, chap the door and if he didn’t answer or was not in, I already knew where he kept his spare key; Under the front door mat. I expected him to be home, he never was the type to stay out late and I didn’t think even his own wedding would stop him from his strictly followed 11PM bedtime. I called the cab and arrived at the front door and knocked, No answer. I knocked again, this time harder. No answer. Then I began rattling the door with my fist. No answer. Must not be in or in a deep, deep sleep I thought. Lifting up the mat and retrieving the key I let myself in. Entering inside my first thought was why were all the lights off? I called out “Mason” to no reply. He always kept at least the bathroom light on. “Mason” I called out, more louder this time. Still no answer. He was always afraid of the dark, from infancy all the way to the age of thirty five my brother feared darkness. One time he told me when we were a lot younger at a sleepover, that he felt if he stayed in the dark for too long the blackness would swallow him. I don’t know why but that always stuck with me, even now. Proceeding forward, blindly looking for a light switch, feeling the walls with my hands, swaying in all sorts of different directions I finally switched on the light. “Mason!” I called out, this time in a voice of panic. He must still be out. I’ll wait on him. I sat in the brightened kitchen, with my head leaning on my fist. I’ll tell him I got too drunk and made a mistake and that I didn’t mean it, but the word sorry didn’t need to leave my mouth. It didn’t take me long to realize something was wrong. getting back up on my feet, a smell, an unusual smell of silver flooded my nostrils. It was strong, and it was coming from inside. The closer I followed this progressively more disturbing smell the closer I came to his bedroom. I opened the bedroom door and the smell hit me harder, I could taste it on the tip of my tongue. It tasted like sucking on a coin or licking steel, it reeked of potent metal. When I entered there was nothing but darkness. I switched the light on. The bed was painted red with roses in the shape of a love heart, a scented candle unlit sat beside the bed, but this is not what I first noticed. A body lay straight and naked on the floor, its legs and arms spread open. There was no face to this person. Only a bloody hole. It looked as if someone had chewed, and crunched on the eyes, nose and mouth, leaving only a blank canvas of thick flesh and stringy twisted meaty lines of gore that were only visible through the stained bone of the face. I shot back in horror, resisting the urge to vomit. The smell made itself clear to me. This was my brother, mutilated and dead on the ground. I froze, looking down on the corpse of the only person who truly cared for me. His face was not the only thing that had been tortured that night. His chest had been caved open and where his heart normally rested beating inside his body was brutally and carelessly removed, another grotesque, dark, red hole had been formed. I could see nothing inside this except the empty space of wet, runny blood. This was not all, looking further down his body, I could see clear as day, his penis had been torn off viciously. This was the inevitable breaking point which made me vomit, all over the carpeted floor and all over my shoes. The only words I could softly mutter was, “I’m sorry.” I stayed, standing, staring, hoping I’d somehow wake up on my couch. This never happened. I was going to leave the house, call the police and wait for them, explain to them, but as if on cue of a movie, a sick, cannibal, murder movie, I heard something under the bed. Something breathing. It was breathing heavily almost like it was breathing impatiently and almost like it wanted to be heard, wanted to be checked on. It was deep, like a huge, angry dog, monstrous in its slow panting. If it had been any other breath I would have looked, I would have seen what caused this. But I was scared, terrified of suffering the same fate. Leaving the house I called the police but I did not wait for them. The only logical thought at this time flowing through my head was, where’s my brother’s wife? Where the hell is LILY? The Funeral I sat on the wooden benches of the church weeping. With my hands over my face in prayer I repeated in my head, hoping he’d somehow hear me, “I’m sorry.” It had been a week after his murder and all I had done was sleep and eat. I talked to no one except the police officers. I must have told them what had happened a dozen times and every time I told them what I heard under the bed they looked at me in disbelief, telling me to repeat the events again. They told me they were working on finding who did this and never contacted me back. I saw Lily, in a black dress, wearing a long dark hat that completely covered her eyes. Even though she wore this I could tell she was sobbing uncontrollably. I never have liked religious funerals, not once did they ever mention anything about Mason. Not about who he was or any stories about him, only the lord this and the lord that. This turned my sadness into anger but I refused to make a scene again, not this time. A couple people gave me empathetic glances but no one came over to me. By the time the pastor was done with his long, dull speech, Lilly had a crowd of people around her, mourning with her. I didn’t want to stay for too long, especially after I saw my dad. He didn’t say anything, just gave me a look of disappointment, a look that said it should have been you. I never disagreed, I just left. The following days were harder, this is only the second person close to me to have died. My mother being the first, she died of a heart attack when she was only sixty seven. Still this did not compare to the horror I had witnessed only a week ago. The image stuck in my mind, along with the smell and the breathing noise. Where the hell was Lily? I had asked the officers while being questioned and they told me they didn’t know yet. I emailed, messaged, phoned, even went to the goddamn police station and each time I got the same answer. We can not share other witnesses statements while the case is ongoing and that Lily is not considered a suspect. Well where the hell was she? Just tell me. please. This soon took over my life, any answer would satisfy me. I just needed to know that she wasn’t involved and that it was just some sick, nutcase that broke in, it’s strange how that would have put my mind at ease. About a week after the funeral I called her. She never answered. That was until about 9PM when she called me back. It was a quick call, she told me she’d come over and we’d talk, she told me she was sorry for my loss and that Mason always talked about me, “he looked up to you.” She said, and we arranged to meet that very night. Not long after the call I heard the knock at my door. I opened it to find her, she wore a long coat that made it look like she wore nothing underneath. I let her in and she gave me a sad smile. We sat down on the couch and she removed her jacket to reveal a skin tight red dress. She always looked stunning but in that dress any man would say she was irresistible. I began the conversation.“You okay Lily.”“Better now.” She replied.“Lily, I have to ask you because I have no clue what happened before I found him. Where were you?”She looked at me with pitiful eyes. “Logan, I know this is hard to hear but I never went home with Mason. We had a bit of a falling out after what you did. We had a sort of fight.” She said in her soft whisper. “We were arguing over you. And well it escalated, so I went to my sister’s house.”“I never knew you had a sister.” I said wiping away at my eyes“We aren’t so close but she was the only person I could go to.”My heart sank and tears forced their way down my cheeks. I tried to spill out words but all that came out was a yelp of pain and I began to cry into my hands. She moved in closer to me, leaning over me and embracing me in a motherly hug. Time stood still but unlike the wedding it was real, except I felt sad, scared and safe all at once. She was comforting me in a moment of vulnerability and I continued to let it all out, snot flooding out my nose. I cried out in shame. Her face got closer to mine and her comforting hug suddenly turned into a sexual grope. Her hands moved lower down and her lips nibbled on my earlobe. She whispered softly, soothingly an inch away from my ear “Let your lust loose.” I tried breaking away from her but she gripped me in closer. She began licking my ear, licking the wet tears that were still trickling down my face. Her tongue felt thick, it felt slimy, it felt like a big dog was licking me. This made me rip away from her tight grip, pushing back I jumped away from her. “ What the hell are you doing!?” I yelled in confusion. She smiled ever so seductively.“What”, she replied, “You know you want to, I’ve seen the way you look at me Logan. Come on.” She approached me slowly, stepping lower to the ground with each step.“Get the hell out!” I commanded aggressively. She looked up at me still grinning gleefully.“Fine, have it your way.” She walked over to the door and muttered something under her breath that made her giggle. She left, leaving the door hanging open. I closed the door and locked it. Staring up at the ceiling I imagined my brother looking down on me. I began crying again, this time violently. The Plan A couple days had passed after I let her into my home. I had vivid but very strangely real dreams of me and Mason. It was more like memories, happy ones. I’d wake up from the good times and quickly realize my reality. I instantly sank back into my depression. What had happened to me with Lily had not felt too much different from these dreams, A bad, revolting, disgusting memory that plagued my head. Why did she do that? There’s something more to this. I know somehow she was involved with my brother’s murder. But why? He was wealthy but it wasn’t like he was anywhere near rich. He was a humble christian that went to church every sunday for god’s sake, why would she want him dead. Why did she start touching me? Licking me? I had no clue but this would not stop me from finding out and exposing her for who she really is. Who even was she? The real Lily I mean? I was not quite sure yet but I did know one thing, she was not who she appeared to be. She was a freak. I couldn’t tell anyone what she did, I knew for a fact people would not believe me, especially so soon after what had happened. People would have looked at me as a sad, pathetic little man trying to grab attention, ruining someone else’s reputation, just as I did at the wedding. A man lying through his teeth to make himself feel better. I brainstormed ways in my head of how I could find the truth and no lightbulbs flickered. The police were a let down. No one in my family would listen to me. How was I going to do this? A small faint burst of light unwillingly went to my mind. What if I asked my dad. Lie to him, tell him I wanted to apologize to Lily and see how she was doing. Maybe he’d know where she lived, maybe he knew more. As much as I wanted to stay far away from that man, particularly now more than ever since the only person holding us together had been brutally taken away. However this was the only option clear to me. I got in my car and headed to meet my father. I arrived at his bungalow and banged the door hard. I heard him crankily yelling to himself from inside. He opened up the door to me and at first he looked surprised, but this look quickly turned to a look of disapproval. He stared at me like a completely different man from the wedding and funeral. He appeared double his age. My brother’s death must have taken a toll on him, not only emotionally. “What do you want, I ain’t got no money.”“Aint here for money.”“Then why are you here?”“To see how you are.”He began chuckling to himself. “Cut the crap, really why are you here?”“Are you gonna let me in or make me stand out here like I’m some sort of Jehovah witness.”He replied under his breath, “I’d prefer it if you were a Jehovah witness.” He walked back into his home, leaving the door open. I entered at the back of him, closing the door behind us. Walking through the hall images of Christ and crucifixes were hung up in display all throughout the house. If my brother was a real believer, my dad was a step above that. A true believer id imagine he’d title himself. We made our way to the living room and we both sat down on the couch at the same time mirroring one another.“Now what is it?” He said.“I was being serious about seeing how you are but to be totally honest I need to ask you something.”His old, hard face had softened slightly.“I need to know where I can find Lily. I never got that chance to apologize.“I see. That’s actually quite mature of you son.” He said, his voice not as scratchy as it was usually.“So where can I find her?”“You can find her at her home.”“Dad I don’t know where she lives, that’s why I’m ask…”He interrupted, “She lives in her house. Mason’s house.”“What I thought the house was written in your name.”“I gave her it.” The old man replied, looking off into the distance.I was going to start shouting at him, telling him how stupid he was until I realized that wouldn’t get me anywhere. It would blow my cover. All I could let out was a “Oh.” He switched the TV on and we sat in an awkward silence for a while as Judge Judy blared in the living room. “I gotta go.” I said and his attention turned from the TV. “Be safe son.” He said and went back to watching his gameshow. I stood at the door ready to leave but before I did I asked curiously.“Dad did Lily go home with her sister that night at the wedding.”He looked at me like I was lost. “What are you talking about? She went home with Mason that night. I gave them both a ride home.”My mind wrestled with possibilities, it fought with the lies and what I had witnessed with my own eyes. I would have told him. Everything I had seen. He was my dad but Mason was his son, his real son. If he believed me the truth would have hurt him and that man had already been through enough. I left without answering or saying goodbye. It would have been boring sitting in my car all night, waiting counting the clock. It really would have been but I was focused, patient in my mission. It was around half 9 before I noticed anything. I could see her shadow roaming the house and soon after I could see she was getting ready to leave. A taxi pulled up to the home and I watched as she left the house and entered the vehicle. Her beauty remained and she wore a belly top and a skirt just long enough that you couldn’t see everything down there. What a bitch I said to myself. Not even a month after your husband of one day was murdered and you’re going for a night out. I tailed the cab, following, slowly from a distance. The cab arrived at a local club (The diamond) and she left, making her way into the line. I parked out the back of the club. Thinking to myself I asked what am I even going to do, take a photo of her at a club oh yeah, great that proves she’s a monster. That proves she was involved with the death of my brother. No, all it proved is that she didn’t really care for him, that it was all an act. Maybe that is all I needed, all I wanted to prove. So I waited all night long. By 11PM my eyes began feeling heavy. I would slap myself in the face hard enough to leave a red mark each time they folded shut. I put the radio to max volume. I never touched my phone as it only had 16% battery life left and maybe a chance to photograph her would come. This went on until about 1AM and I was really questioning if she had already gone home. But still I stayed and soon my patience was granted a gift. She left out the back exit and I sprang out of my seat, phone in hand. Somebody had left close behind her, a tall, muscular man, happy as can be. They were laughing, drunkenly staring into each other’s eyes. My stomach turned but still I watched as they began kissing, holding onto one another. Pulling each other in tighter, making out with tongue and all, my phone whipped forward and I pressed record, zooming in. I stared through my phone and noticed something wasn’t right. The man was trying to push her off, get away from her. She held onto him, pulling him in closer, kissing him harder. What I saw next, destroyed what I had believed possible in this world. What I saw was no pretty women. The man’s face appeared petrified and he was visibly aching in pain. He managed to break free of her lips for only a mere moment and I saw blood pouring from his mouth. Then I saw it. Her tongue was huge and long like a snake trying to escape her throat. The man leaned back in unearthly horror. Her lower face split. She tilted her head back and her mouth widened so wide that her face began to change into something else. From below her nose her face had burst into four separate entities. Her mouth had become a twisted, grotesque Venus fly trap. It turned inside out showing hundreds of razor sharp teeth attached to red soaked, squishy tissue. Her head that was arched so far behind her it was almost hanging behind her back smashed forward, latching onto the man’s skull. The man cried out in agony until a spurting, splashing noise echoed in the dark. it bit down, gnawing, biting, eating. His eyes popped out their sockets and eventually it consumed the man’s face. His body thudded, dropping to the floor. The thing knelt down to continue her meal but before it did, she looked. She looked over to me, in my direction. Though its face was mangled and disfigured, its eyes completely dead and lifeless, I could tell it was smiling, smiling at me. I had almost forgotten I was recording. It never ran over to me, or started to chase. It looked back to the body and began again, eating away at the corpse. I sped off into the night. Questioning reality. Wishing I had stayed away. Wishing I had not gotten involved. God Save Us I arrived at my home, throwing anything essential in a suitcase. I was prepared to leave, prepared to get as far away as possible. That thing knew where I lived and I sure as hell was taking no chances after what I saw. I found out what I wanted. That thing killed Mason. His own wife. That is what was breathing under the bed and if I had engaged in her seductive advances I would have become another victim devoured. I was quicker than I probably needed to be, firing everything at random into the suitcase. I left my home without stopping to say goodbye, I was gone and the only thing sane left in my head was drive, drive fast and long and don’t you dare ever look back. It wasn’t like I had anyone else, not like she could hurt anyone else in my life…. Shit my dad, no,no,no. I can’t leave him can I? Does she know where he lives? Am I willing to take that chance? In my car speeding off into the night I turned back. I have to make this quick.I shot back in my automobile, almost hoping to be stopped by the police. I drove furious and also terrified towards my fathers home. The old fart better wake up. I charged at his front yard and punched the door so hard and fast, I wouldn’t have been surprised if the old man had a heart attack. I yelled frantically “Dad it’s me Logan, let me in, now!” After about ten seconds of this repeated loud noise of panic, I heard him get out of his bed yammering back at me. He unlocked the door and I sprung on him. “Dad we have to leave, now.” He attempted to talk back but I wouldn’t, couldn’t let him. I pulled my phone out of my pocket ready to show him the proof and… The battery was dead, shit, of all times to die it chose now. He looked at me confused, still half sleeping. I grabbed onto his shoulders, looking deep into his soul. I told him. “Dad Lily is not what she seems, she murdered Mason and we have to get out of here before something happens.”He looked at me, his eyes waking up, widening, he replied. “Son, have you seriously been taking drugs again?” I pulled onto his dirty white vest as if to emphasize, “Dad, I’m being serious, we have to get out of here.” I tried to drag him outside but he wouldn’t budge. He refused to move an inch. He refused to move but I could tell he was alarmed, I could tell he was worried, scared that I could be telling the truth. He said, “Now slow down and tell me what in our dear lord’s name is going on.”“You’re going to die, you old dumbass hurry the hell up.”He looked at me distressingly, scratching the roof of his balding head.“If you’re going to use that sinful word in this home, you’re best to leave yourself.” I dreaded wasting any more time explaining myself so I told him I’d explain everything to him in the car but we had to leave. I told him to grab what he needed and that he had one minute or else I’d leave. He lazily walked around his apartment turning on lights, going into his wardrobe in his bedroom grabbing clothes, while I stood nervously in the hall outside. He left the bedroom giving me a look that said good to go and as we just about reached the handle of the exit my dad said, shoving his palm to his forehead. “My bible, I forgot my bible.” He rushed back to get it and I held out my arm stopping him. “I’ll get it dad.” He nodded his head and I headed to the bedroom. I entered the bedroom, seeing the bible on his bedside desk. I walked over reaching out for the book. No,no,no, not again. That noise, that breathing was here, in the same room as me, under the bed. This time I didn’t need to check on it. This time it showed itself to me. I saw small, fake petite women’s hands reach out from under. I gripped the bible closer to my chest, backing myself away from the corner of the room. It teasingly rolled itself out from under the bed, its neck twisted around and its legs and arms were wrapped in a spiral as if it was unfolding itself. She stood straight up in one revolving motion and stared at me, smiling. It methodically advanced towards me and I stumbled backwards repeating, which was meant to be in my head but was now spurting out aloud. “Oh god, please, oh god, no, please, god help.” The woman stopped in its tracks, its grin growing larger. It said still in its soft, girl whisper. “God can’t save you now.” My dad called something over to me, as if to question if anyone was there. I backed up hanging outside the hall, visible to my father who was looking at me with utter confusion. The beautiful figure that stood in the doorway began to melt. Her soft hand reached for her face and she peeled off the skin as if it was a mask, revealing a completely new inhuman skull underneath. Its long tongue showed itself, moving around as if it was a completely different being. It began ripping at its own body, arms and legs, claw knives bulged out of the skin, fingers tearing it off completely, piles of flesh dropped to the floor until its whole human appearance was gone. It changed. The only earthly comparison that I could make is that it looked like a giant rat. A giant rat straight out of Satan’s cellar. My dads confusion burbled over into panic as he witnessed my pale face taken over by terror. I fell into his hallway walls, holding the bible up to my face surrounded by crucifixes. He hurried his way over to me and instantly came to a halt as he saw what had come crawling out the bedroom. It scurried over to me, hovering its hellish face over mine. Its breath reeked of the metal smell and blood fell from its jaws, dripping over my face. Its tongue ran over me, it was tasting, savouring which was about to come next. Its claws cut into my arms, holding them in place, its arched head sprang back then forward, aiming for my face that I had moved in a split second, it bit down with force, missing my face and instead ripping into my shoulder. I let out an agonizing squeal that echoed in the halls. It took its time tearing into me, it had a sick pleasure of hearing my pain and continued to nibble on the puncture wound in my shoulder. It snatched the bible away from me, throwing it behind itself. It was back to targeting my face as its slimy tongue started to dance, slithering all over me. I closed my eyes not wanting this haunting, ungodly image to be my last. I thought of mason, I thought of joining him in the afterlife, hopefully up in the clouds above. You may not believe me if I say this and a part of me doesn’t either, but I think I started smiling, laughing in this crisis of pain and certain death. The beast once again raised its head, letting its sharp teeth free it stared down at me. It hurled itself back at pace then…. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK. My hearing faded and I thought I was entering a different world. Opening my eyes I saw only my father looking back at me. He was holding the biggest and nastiest shotgun I had ever seen. Then I realized what had happened. I was covered from head to toe in some sort of black substance that was leaking all sorts out from the monster that lay still beside me. Me and my dad stuck to our plan. We left, calling the ambulance and cops. We left home and never looked back. Now I am at a much, much happier place as is my dad. We moved far, far away from our old lives and now live in… Probably best to not reveal that information. Police searched the house and told us they found no signs of anything, no intruder, nothing. That part still keeps me up at night. The video on my phone for some reason did not save. It could have been anything but I put it down to the fact that my phone must have run out while I was recording. I like to think that I somehow redeemed myself and in a way avenged my brother. But deep in my head and heart I don’t know if I have. I live everyday a step at a time and even occasionally tend to church with my father. I look back on this as another lifetime. This idea of demons roaming the world is not so far-fetched as it seems, evil takes shape in many forms and the devil is always tempting the weak and good hearted. Always remember, you never know what darkness lurks deep inside someone and you never know when they’ll let that darkness out. Credit: LoganM Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.