creds; froggo_doggo
To preface, I recently moved into this house in southern Canada, several kilometres from my new job. Being fairly fresh out of university I wasn't exactly rolling in cash, and this house had seemed like a fantastic deal. Incredibly cheap for its moderate size and large yard for my cat Clementine to explore. She was always an adventurous one.
The whole street was backed with an enormous, dense forest of red cedar and pines, stretching on into the wilderness. Anyway, I'd driven all the way down from my rented apartment to here, and had settled in nicely. The neighbours seemed nice enough; a man named Frank from next door had welcomed me warmly to the town. "Be sure to check out the community hall," he suggested. "We'd happily welcome you to grab a drink or two at the pub as well."
What a lovely guy.
What I have to tell doesn't begin until a few weeks after I'd settled into my new house. I'd returned from my evening jog and was filling up Clementine's dinner bowl. Usually at the sound of the dish she comes barreling in, but tonight there was no sign of her.
"Clem? Clem, dinner's ready!" I called. No response. I began looking around. "Clem, c'mon! Aren't you hungry?" I eventually found her at the back door, staring out through the wire screen into the night. She seemed to be intently focused on something out in the darkness; I peered out but couldn't seem to see anything. "What's wrong, Clem?" I asked.
It was only then I realised her hair was standing on end. She let out a low hiss and sprinted off upstairs, entirely ignoring her dinner. Weird.
I shrugged it off and decided Clem wasn't in the mood for socialising. She must've just gotten spooked by a rabbit or a bat, I thought. That was all.
Several hours later, I was lounging in my armchair scrolling through Twitter when I heard a gentle knock at my back door. I glanced up and listened for a moment. "Hello? Mark, are you there?"
It was Frank, my neighbour. I relaxed, he was probably just needing a hand, he sometimes asked for favours around the place. Then I immediately stiffened. This made no sense. Why would Frank be coming around at this hour? And at my back door?
But it was Frank, surely. I recognised the voice!
What I heard next changed everything. Frank stopped calling, and I heard a gentle rustle, like leaves brushing together. Then a sharp snap, like chicken bone splitting in two. And another.
Chills ran down my spine. This was wrong, very wrong, I could feel it. I stared at the door for a moment, then as quietly and quickly as I could slipped into the closet and placed the detached handle of a broom over the inside handle the closet had.
Click, click, click. The sound continued, buzzing in the back of my skull. I didn't move.
"Hello? Mark, are you there?" His voice sounded wrong too. Too dry, too... false. Like a broken record on repeat, just that one sentence over and over. "Hello? Mark, are you there?" A different click, and the sound of a hinge. Holy shit. The back door had just opened. How? I had definitely locked it. My heart raced, adrenaline from fear pulsing through my body.
Click, click. They were getting louder. Panic rose in my throat, but I kept silent. I was begging it hadn't noticed me, didn't know I was there, whatever it was. Please.
Click, click. The sound was right outside the closet.
Oh god oh god oh god please don't please don't please, I thought in blinding terror. The clicking had ceased, and it was just me holding my breath in fear and... that. I swear I was there for an hour, though it could've been a minute for all I know.
Click. It was further away now, maybe around nearer to the kitchen. Click, click. At the back door again?
I waited for what I guessed was around another hour in there, dead silent and shuddering. Whatever that... thing was, it wasn't human and it wasn't right.
At some point I must've fallen asleep, because I woke up to gentle sunlight shining through the cracks of the closet door. I panicked for a moment, forgetting where I was, then the memories of the night before flooded in and I was filled with a sense of utter dread. What the fuck had happened last night?
I slipped the barricade, now seeming tiny and weak, off the handle and pushed the door open. I squinted and stretched my aching back as I surveyed the room cautiously. The house was the same as I'd left it; everything was in its place and the door was closed and locked like nothing had ever touched it. Like nothing had ever happened. Clementine ran up to me and pressed herself against my leg. She hardly ever does that.
I carefully surveyed the rest of my house, but to no avail. Everything was in its place, perfectly fine.
It was only days later I learned about the demise of Frank. According to the news article I read, he had been found several kilometres from his home by a search-and-rescue team on a training drill. His body was barely recognisable; I would rather not put the included descriptions here for discretion. Something noted in the article was that his body was found in the branches of a large pine, some 140 metres above the ground.
Needless to say, I moved out of that house within a few days. I'm currently living with my grandmother, attempting to interpret this bizarre, horrifying experience.
a/n almost at 100 reads, thank you to anyone who is an active reader:)
