It’s Jess again. I’m not letting Alex post here anymore. He’s crazy rude. And probably crazy. You’re all just trying to help. I really appreciate it, even if he doesn’t. I’m not talking to him anymore, anyway. Shit just went down, guys.
I don’t like all this talk of demons and botched rituals. If Dean and Lisa did some kind of ritual, it was all in benign fun. I’m sure of that. And I’m pretty sure neither of them has much knowledge as far as real-life demonology goes. So if they did do a ritual, they probably fucked it up. Which means whatever they were calling, if it exists, did not come through.
I think if one of them wrote the notebook, it was as an entertaining project or something. Maybe something for Dungeons and Dragons. I have a hard time swallowing that this is actually a demon, honestly.
So I’m not sure what I think. I think something really weird is going on. And I think I don’t know as much about the world as I think I do. So I guess can’t totally discount the idea of a demon or creature or spirit or something. Because I don’t know.
Maybe Dean and Lisa were going crazy. Maybe I’m going crazy. Maybe demons are real. Maybe there’s a lot more to this than meets the eye. Maybe it’s a cult. Maybe it’s a prank. Maybe it’s aliens. Maybe Dean and Samantha are running away together. Or maybe it’s a feral child living under their floorboards.
I have no answers.
Phew. So. I’m putting aside the demon theory for now, since it’s way beyond me. First on the list of reasons I’m not speaking to Alex anymore - remember that satchel I found in my purse? He said something about getting rid of this nonsense and burned it when I left to get lunch. And like five of you told me NOT to burn it. If, as some of you have pointed out, it’s dried lavender (and maybe garlic? Like I said, it smelled terrible), then he just burned something that someone put in my bag for protection. If it was something more sinister, someone mentioned he could have released something bad.
Then again, if none of that’s real then... Better safe than sorry, right? Given, he didn’t know burning it was a bad idea. But I was pissed. He laughed at me for being superstitious. If nothing else, he shouldn’t have burned my stuff.
Anyway, we went to Samantha’s apartment. I don’t know what I expected, honestly. But it was completely normal. The only thing that told me Sam hadn’t been here for a while was that her goldfish was dead. I checked for luggage in her closet and found nothing had been taken.
When I turned back around, I found Alex had been staring at me. Just standing there, feet planted shoulder-width apart, chin tilted down. He wasn’t smiling. It gave me the creeps. It didn’t seem sexual or wolfish, but it did seem dangerous. A little aggressive.
I asked him “What?” and he said we were wasting our time. We needed to go to Dean’s and we should do so next time he texted me to come over. He said if Dean was okay, we hadn’t run into him at his place simply because he hadn’t been there at the time. If we went over when he actually asked us to, we’d see him. And if something fucked up was going on, at least we’d be getting answers “instead of digging through this bloody closet.”
I asked him what his problem was. He said he was sick of all this fucking around and moping and trembling. He said we had to face this head on and figure it out. I argued that it was dangerous. And he stepped toward me.
His stance scared me, brimming with aggression. He had murder in his eye, I swear to God. There was a threat there. He’s much bigger than me. I ended up agreeing to go next time Dean texted me. I figured he wouldn’t until tonight, and I’d figure out some way to ditch Alex before then.
I didn’t. He lingered, and no hint of mine could make him leave my place. He commandeered my cell phone, and Samantha’s, after a while. So he could make sure I wasn’t lying to him, doubtlessly. It was really scary. I don’t know this guy very well, and now he seemed to be getting tense and possessive. He wouldn’t let me post here, wouldn’t let me call anyone. He even came outside with me when I went to smoke. I was too scared for my safety to do anything. We just sat there and watched TV, waiting.
As ten PM rolled around, I hatched a plan. If I was asleep, maybe he wouldn’t make me go. I went into the bathroom and slipped a Valium. Thirty minutes later, my head was lolling back on the couch. I heard Alex sigh in annoyance as I curled up for more comfort. Soon I was deep asleep.
The first thing I noticed, when I woke up, was the smell. Stale and earthy and oppressive, like I was miles underground. Pressure was building in my head and it ached horribly. I sat up quickly, extremely disoriented. I’d been dumped on the floor and my back twinged at any sudden movement. The darkness that surrounded me was not the gentle moonlight of home.
It took me a second to recognize where I was. The shadows were really dark in the corners, almost too deep, and it made distinguishing details really difficult. But after a bit I realized with a rush of terror that I was in the lobby of Dean’s building, laying on the ground about ten feet from the front door.
None of the lights were on. I’d never seen the lobby this dark. My phone was laying to my left so I picked it up and shone its light around. My hand was shaking really bad but I could see the mold had spread from the third floor. It welled in every corner and snaked from there in spidery tendrils down every wall, across the ceiling. Are we sure mold can grow this fast? I’m not even sure it is mold anymore. Sure smells like it, though.
Thinking about spores, I put my sleeve over my mouth and tried to stand up. Both my legs were asleep, which made it slow going and uncomfortable. I didn’t want to touch anything, but I ended grabbing the column that rose to the ceiling next to me for help. I’m pretty sure I touched the mold, but I didn’t see anything on my hands.
Can mold grow on glass? It took me a second to locate the glass front doors because they were covered in it too. They blended in with the walls. Maybe it’s some other kind of plant, some kind of vine.
Thinking of you guys, I snapped a couple pictures, then turned the camera around and took one of myself but... you’re not going to be pleased with them.
The flash blinded me, so before getting the fuck out of there I stood for a second, blinking, trying to regain my sight. My ears were ringing for some reason, too. But through that, I heard something behind me.
The layout of the lobby is a large room with two rows of columns from the front doors. Opposite the front doors, at the other end of the room, are the elevators. Two hallways branch off perpendicular to the lobby on either side.
The sound was coming from the hallway to the right. I couldn’t see past the wall, and I didn’t want to get closer to check it out. It was sort of a scraping, shuffling noise. Like someone was slowly dragging something heavy along the ground. It sounded like the corners of whatever was being dragged would catch on the carpet every so often and there’d be a small thump.
I gasped and backed away from it. At the noise I made, the pace got quicker, louder. I could hear footsteps in time with the dragging, and some other noise. Like when you pop a knuckle, but numerous times and rapidly.
I booked it for the door and ran. It has never felt so good to be outside. My ears didn’t stop ringing until I was ten blocks away and finally stopped running. I walked the rest of the way home.
I think Alex brought me there. He’s gone and I haven’t tried to contact him. He apparently took Samantha’s phone, since it’s gone from my house. He left me with mine, at least. I’m wondering how long I was unconscious in that lobby. I wonder if there was any health risk to being exposed to that mold (or whatever). I wasn’t hurt though. And I obviously haven’t disappeared.
I took another picture of myself when I got back to my place. It’s not reassuring. I think there’s something wrong with my phone.
I hope Alex doesn’t try to get back in touch. I just want him out of my life. I want all of this out of my life.
I checked my phone when I got home around four in the morning. Dean had texted me at 1:03, while I was sleeping.
Dean: Don’t be scared.
Dean: I am fine. Everyone ud fine.
[A couple of minutes pass.]
Dean: I want to ajiew you somethinb.
Dean: Come over.
[About ten minutes go by.]
Dean: I’m fine. Everything is fine.
Dean: I can brhirng you to the rest of them.
Dean: I will show you.
[He sent me this picture. I think there’s a face in the upper left hand corner of the reflection. The hair looks like it might be Dean’s but I can’t recognize any features. Anyone know the city?]
Dean: All ylk have to do is come over.
[At this point I assume Alex texted him back from my phone. Because I definitely didn’t send this text.]
Me (Alex): Be right there.
I called the cops. We’re meeting this evening, and they said there’s a good chance I’ll have to go back to the apartment to show them everything. I don’t want to, but I know I’ll have to. They’re finally taking this seriously - the word “abduction” keeps getting thrown around. I’ll update when I get back from our meeting.
---
Credits
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