Monday, February 10, 2014

i am not to be feared

Scrap 1 - Found in the drafts for a status update on a small social media website

I was walking down my street at night. Sometime in May. I live in quite a peaceful area that I don’t normally need to worry about my safety. I liked to walk late at night, quite calming and all. It’s a nightly ritual for me now. However, just now, I thought I saw something unusual. I saw a child wearing a blank white mask in tattered clothes under a house’s shadow... I went straight home and for the first time since the series of break-ins in the area 3 years back, locked my doors and closed my windows. Something was off and I felt it like a child alone at night feels when the shadows become much more.

I was scared. Something was wrong, but what? Why had that child scared me so?

Scrap 2 - Found in a notebook belonging to the victim

Today, I woke up feeling horrible. Had terrible dreams due to that kid. He was probably playing murder in the dark or something like that, most likely. I brushed it off. Right up until I saw him in the area again, peeping in a window at the house opposite mine across the road. I called in sick that day for work, and took a week off.

What is with that kid?

Scrap 3 - Found written in another notepad in the car belonging to the victim. The text was just legible and has been rewritten by scribes to make the evidence more readable.

I went to Arthur’s house. He has lived in the area for all his life and is hitting the late eighties. I inquired about the kid from three nights ago after I caught him peeking into my window. His response was “He is not to be feared” which I had thought to mean that the kid was okay, which clearly wasn’t the case for he continued “He is terror and dread, extreme in own fear of us that he may lash out at those that he feel that may threaten him. Now go, for I have betrayed him and I fear that we may both be killed. Go!”

I fled. I ran. And I saw him as I turned back at the end of the street, him watching me.

Scrap 4 - Found stuff in the hole of the victim’s body, where the heart should be. Should have been covered in blood had the body possessed any. Time of death unknown.

He is here. Outside my hotel door. I didn’t go home. He followed me. How did he get inside? He scares me.


Written on the walls in blood after the murder of Louis Cartel:

i am not to be feared

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