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There Was Someone Standing in My Yard (Part 4)


Series by: donutboy456781

Two nights ago, after speaking with Detective Laird about the creature that broke into my home, I’m pretty sure I had a panic attack. I couldn’t catch my breath no matter how hard I tried. It felt like my throat had closed up. I shouldn’t have fallen back asleep after hearing that terrifying news, but I did. I had no choice. Maybe it was all the stress of the last few days, maybe it was the panic attack, or maybe it was something else entirely… but I did fall asleep, and that night I had the most vivid dream I’ve ever had. Usually my dreams are a jumbled mess of nonsense, but this one seemed to flow much more coherently than normal. It seemed to tell me something.

I found myself in my home’s entryway yet again. It was still very much in shambles like it had been when Sergeant James escorted Mary and I to safety for questioning: the door still lay on the floor, and the trail of the crimson blood-like substance still flowed like a makeshift road leading to the basement. In the dream, this red path led down the stairs and into the unfinished part of the basement, which is immediately on your right once you reach the bottom of the stairs. I didn’t go into that part of the basement though, most likely because I have always been terrified of that room. When we first saw the home, this room was still being used as storage for Mrs. Maddox and her late-husband’s excess belongings. I never really thought about why it actually made me so uneasy. My fear of that room was as strong as it was irrational as long as I’ve lived there.

In the main room of the basement, I saw Mary. She was facing away from me. I heard her whimpering and saw her shaking like she was the night we took shelter in our bedroom closet. I called to her, and she immediately stopped trembling. Her head snapped towards me, but she never looked fully at me. Something about her was different… I wish I could explain it better, because it was so alarming, but I can’t really put it into words at the moment. With her head still turned but not fully looking in my direction, she started whispering something… “We never leave. We never leave. We. Never. Leave. Leave. We. Never. Leave. Leave. Leave. Never.”

I turned my head to my left, towards that abominable room, to see that the door wasn’t there; it had unsurprisingly been broken down. The crimson trail led into that room, but I couldn’t see more than a few steps past the doorway. It seemed like all the light had been drained from the room. Usually, there was enough natural light from the small windows to make out the outline of the room and its contents. Regardless of the seemingly amplified darkness, I was able to see the outline of a person standing there. The only thing I could tell for certain was that it wasn’t the creature, because this figure was about my height. The figure stood in the doorway, bathed in darkness, and stretched their arm outwards towards me before being pulled backwards into the darkness. Before I could do anything in response, Mary crawled into the dark room on all fours. I tried to chase after her, but I was frozen.

I jolted awake at 8:13 AM. It took me a few moments to realize that I had just been dreaming, and that I was still in the hotel room in bed next to my still-sleeping wife. Like I said, I have never had a dream quite as vivid as that one. The details of my home were perfectly accurate. I knew from that moment that the dream meant something, but I’m still not really sure what exactly. At this point, I wasn’t sure if I would be returning to my home to investigate further, but the dream seemed like it was trying to tell me that if I did go to my home, there was probably something of note in the basement.

Mary and I got lunch, and discussed what our next move should be. She was set on moving away from this place and never looking back, something that I was reluctantly leaning towards as well. We both knew that this move would alter our lives forever and would also mean we’d have to scramble for a new way to provide for ourselves, but we didn’t really care at this point. We agreed that we would make a return trip to our home to get my car out of the driveway, and that would be the last time we ever set foot on the property again. We determined that we would go there once we were done eating lunch and meet up at her sister’s house afterwards.

At our house, there was the expected hustle and bustle for a crime scene, especially for one as… interesting as my home. I spoke with Detective Laird in the front yard. He told me that the house had been scoured at least six more times since we last spoke and that there was still no creature sighting to report.

The police, for all the good they’ve done and for all the patience they’ve shown, really do seem to be hiding something from us. It’s not that they seem malicious, but it seems more like they’re on damage control and want to just deny everything. When I asked Detective Laird if I would be getting my laptop back any time soon, he spewed out some rant about how the laptop seems to have a virus and how they had to take it back to the station to run diagnostics and figure out what went wrong with it. It all seemed canned, like someone above him on the law enforcement food chain told him what to tell me and hope I wouldn’t question it. I didn’t want trouble, so I told him he would never have to worry about me interfering again.

As I walked to my car I remembered the game cameras I’d placed in the woods. I wasn’t sure if the police ever found them, but my curiosity couldn’t be contained. I decided that I had a great chance to get these cameras later in the night. Worst-case scenario, the police find me and I make up some BS excuse about just wanting to get my friend his cameras I borrowed. Best-case scenario, I find something new that helps me understand this whole situation a little better. Regardless, I knew I had to do it to ease my troubled mind. I phoned Mary and told her that I was staying behind to help the police. I know… I’m an asshole for lying to her again. But honestly, if I told her what I was actually doing she’d either try to keep me from looking for the truth because she was scared, or she’d want to come with me and would put herself in great danger. I think this time, it’s entirely warranted.

I nervously drove around until nightfall. Finally, I made my way back to my house at about 9:30. It was dark and I was determined to find the truth. I really didn’t want to be back at this place, but I knew that if I didn’t at least look for any signs that might explain all this that I’d likely go insane. Finding these game cameras seemed like the safest way to find truth.

The first thing to cross my mind when I arrived at my house after dark was a simple observation: it’s a lot quieter now. And not just in the sense that it was nighttime, there were no more police officers there. Less than six hours ago, my home had been lively. There were at least eight officers still on perimeter duty, plus many other police officers inside on monster watch. There were forensic crews trying to find any sort of solid evidence they could use to understand what had happened within the walls of my home. The house had fallen eerily silent once again, and once again I hated it.

But I saw an opportunity. I dashed to the front porch, and inside the front door I found waiting for me the exact same sight from my dream. My entryway was still a chaotic scene of destruction, with the crimson path summoning me to investigate the basement. I recalled my dream and the feelings I felt down below the surface. I wanted to turn around, but instead I found myself at the top of the stairs. Looking down the stairs I saw the destroyed door lying right where it had in my dream. I saw the crimson trail turn right and go into the terrifying unfinished room of the basement. I thought about taking a step downwards, but the silence of the house was shattered before I could.

It started as a faint, but constant and indecipherable whisper: voices, emanating from the basement. As the voices grew in volume, they became more distinct but became no easier to decipher. There were at least four voices involved, but there could have easily been more voices speaking. They all spoke at once, sometimes over each other. I don’t know to whom they belonged, but I knew that these voices must have been the ones Mrs. Maddox heard that caused her son to move her out. This is my attempt at transcribing some of what I heard emanating from the basement:

Older Man: Does anything remain in this?

Younger Man: Here, there.

Older Man: So misplaced.

Woman 1: I want to \*muffled \*

Woman 2: For reasons unknown

Younger Man: I lived in the dark…

I truly cannot be sure that any of this text is correct, but this transcript is the best I can do. There was loud and indecipherable whispering that was an omnipresent undertone to what could barely be called a conversation. I also heard a woman crying at different times during the exchange. The whispering never stopped despite the other voices speaking, while the crying was sporadic but occurred when both women’s voices were speaking.

I stepped onto the top step of the basement, and the damned step creaked louder than a step ever has in the history of stairs. The voices immediately stopped. So did the whispering and crying. They all screeched to a halt. The unnatural silence returned. My heart did a drumroll.

I ran to my car, with my legs churning unrestricted of my brain. I didn’t care anymore. Fuck the truth and fuck those game cameras. I wanted to live my life. I wanted to grow old with Mary. I didn’t want to end up in that basement with whatever was down there. As I started the car, I noticed the creature standing was now standing in the doorway of my home. He was facing away from me, looking inside my home. As if it knew I was looking at it, it turned its head 180 degrees to look at me. It wore the same confused look on his face that it had when I had accidentally discovered it a few nights prior. It mouthed something at me and then sprinted deeper into my house with its eyes still locked upon me.

I write this final update from the comfort of my parents’ beach house, over 400 miles away from my haunted little home in the middle of nowhere. Mary and I look forward to starting our new life together far away from that place. Tomorrow begins our job search. However, I am unable to stop looking over my shoulder every time I hear the settling of this house or the crackling of the air conditioning coming alive to cool our home.

There still exist dark corners of our world, untouched by the light we consider ourselves so safe inside of. If you look hard enough for them, you will find them. If you listen closely for them, you will hear them beckon you. Once you’ve discovered them, you will only see their darkness. We spend our lives trying to outrun them, but the truth is we never escape them. Last night, I woke up in that basement. Mary was there. She acknowledged my presence, but never looked at me. I could hear crying, but I didn’t know from where it came.

We never leave. We never leave.

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