The following stories come from the diary of the late Michael Tre Dirstrong. The police found this on his person at the scene of his suicide, and dismissed the stories as a result of his “insanity”. You be the judge.
February 17th, 2011
I had to move to this house. It was scaring me too much. I’m not sure if I was safe at my old place…I just hope it can’t follow me here. If it can… I don’t even want to think about it. The real question is, is it dangerous? I’m keeping this diary just in case it follows me. If it does, then I’m dead. It all started last week, the first time I saw this thing. I was in my old place, walking down the hall to go to the bathroom. I turned the corner to get into the bathroom, and as I flicked on the light, something caught my eye in the mirror. Im not sure what it was, it was like a swish of black with a bit of white on top. Almost like a person walking around in black robes. I dismissed it as a trick of the light. I began to have similar sightings all around my house. But then, two days ago, I really got a chance to see it. I walked out of the kitchen, and it walked right past me. It had its head turned, so I couldn’t see the face, but its head was pale as chalk and bald. It was wearing billowing black robes, and it had its arm tucked over a book. It almost looked like a priest carrying a bible… That was when I decided to move. I packed all my stuff yesterday, and moved into my parents old farmhouse. Middle of nowhere. I don’t think it’s going to follow me. I hope it’s not going to follow me…
February 24th, 2011
No signs of it for a whole week. Things are looking good, possibly good enough to move closer to town.
February 25th, 2011
I was wrong. Very wrong. It not only showed up today, but it was angry. It attacked me. I was on my way downstairs this morning to make breakfest. I turned when I heard a rustle, and I saw it. It slammed itself into me, and I toppled down the stairs. I thought it would be best to ignore it. When I managed to stand up, it had gone. I’m terrified. Too terrified to sleep. I’m afraid to close my eyes or shut off the light, or turn a corner. This is killing me. Goodnight for now, diary.
February 26th, 2011
I’ve discovered what it is. I’ve been doing research online. There is a really old myth about my town. Apparently a priest was caught running a witchcraft and sorcery cult in the basement of the church back in 1882. The townspeople freaked and burned his house down with him inside it. I researched even harder. Apparently, this house was located on what is now 924 Jingletown Boulevard. That’s my adress. Im so scared right now. I would ask for help, but I’d get locked up in a looney bin! Im going to attempt to rid myself of this tomorrow. If I make it through the night.
February 27th, 2011
Today, there was another attack. I was moving through the house, sprinkling holy water and saying prayers. As I reached the study, it dropped down from upstairs, and landed on my shoulders, knocking the holy water from my hand. Its face pressed way to close to mine, and it hissed. I could’ve sworn it said “revenge”. I’m now scared for my life. I did more research, and the two people who owned my house before I did, in 1932 and 1968, both commited suicide. Am I next?
February 28th, 2011
I can hear footsteps and different noises all around my house as I write this. The house is shaking, the lights are flickering, and I can hear what sounds like a fire crackling. The only good news is, I’ve figured out how to stop it. It’s too late for me, but anyone who reads this can still use it! All you have do to is
That’s where the diary cuts out. Every other page is covered in blood. Just like the room where Michael was found dead. Without a single mark on his own body. Not a single cut, scratch, or bruise. It’s as if his heart just plain stopped beating. Where all the blood came from is still a mystery. The only thing the police could say was that he comitted suicide. They refused to comment on what the autopsy found. The doctor who performed the autopsy comitted suicide a day after he did the autopsy. This diary, as you read,took place in 2011. It is now June 2012. Three people have since moved into 924 Jingletown Boulevard. All three have comitted suicide. The house is scheduled for demolition in two weeks. As if it will solve anything.
Credit To: Rocco Sabatino