THE HAUNTING IN HALF-HILL

misty hill picture - the haunting in half-hill11:51 Sunday 16.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Hi Gina,

How are you? Hope you’re enjoying your holiday.
I just wanted to drop a few lines. No problem if you can’t reply.
I finished emptying the last bags yesterday, so I can rest now for a few days before I start to work on my new book. I’m full of excitement.
You have to come down when you are back from Africa ‘cause the view is beautiful. It’s nothing like London, even if Half-Hill is not far away from it. In the morning the mist covers the top of the hills, and when it’s being chased away by the heat of the sun; well, wow, that’s something I’ve never seen before. Spectacular.
There’s a little lake close too. We can have a girly weekend (with lots of wine, of course) and go fishing together. 🙂
I’m writing from the library ’cause there is no Internet in the house yet, nor land-line phone or good signal. I know it’s a bit scary in the 21st century, but the engineers will be there in a few days to sort out everything. 🙂
Imagine, I found this mysterious diary written by a guy called David, who was living here in 1911. Whooooooo. Maybe it will inspire me or something. 🙂
Enjoy yourself and watch out for the local lions… 😛

Kisses,
Erica

16:34 Sunday 16.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Hey Erica,

Sounds fabulous. I can’t wait to see it. I’m definitely up for the girly weekend. Let’s arrange it when I’m back.
I love being here in Africa. The locals are very nice, the hotel is great, and the programs are exciting. The only thing I can’t really co-op with is the heat. I mean… I knew it was gonna be hot, but this is extraordinary. I seriously don’t know how these people get on with it all year. 🙂
Anyhow, tomorrow we’re gonna go to the long adventure, and we’re gonna camp, so I won’t have Wifi. But let me know how things go, and I’ll answer at the airport. xxx

14:48 Wednesday 19.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Hi Gina,

Hope you are having fun on the “long adventure”. Hahha.
I finished decorating the rooms. The house is homey now, not just a wooden box.
I already know a lot of places in the town, and there won’t be much more to discover, but I like it so far. It’s peaceful, except these weird animal noises during the night. I’m not sure if you heard foxes in London before, but they make this shrieking noise sometimes. It sounds like a baby crying in pain. I asked about it in the town. Apparently, it’s the mating season, so should be normal. I’ll buy some earplugs.
Otherwise, everything is superb.

Lots of love,
Erica

10:37 Friday 21.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Hey Gina,

Hope everything is still okay with you. Just two days from now, and you’ll be back. I miss my BFF. 🙁
I started to sketch the new novel. I have to work on the story still, but I’m definitely going to use some elements from that diary. It’s so fascinating. I can’t believe it happened. The guy’s wife had gone missing, and he was left alone with his son. They were searching for her through day and night. He wrote the notes to her. Poor thing. His writing is so detailed.
I’m very excited about the end. They had to be so nice together; they called themselves the Driumvirate because all of their names started with a D. So sweet.
The noise of the foxes is still killing. I’m in town now again, but nobody can help because they wouldn’t harm them. Hopefully, the mating season will be over soon. 🙂

Love and kisses,
Erica

10:11 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Okay, this is not funny anymore. Last night I sleepwalked. I’ve never done anything like that before (or I don’t remember). I woke up in the living room, staring out through the window. It was a full moon, and the forest on the hill was covered in the usual fog. I felt a dragging force like something wanted me to go out.
It sounds stupid, but do you know why this scared the shit out of me? Because I finished reading the diary after this, as I could not sleep, and the guy describes the same stuff: the animal noises, his son sleepwalking, bad dreams.
The end is terrible. I think the guy went nuts.
I’m in the library now, so I searched for the old newspapers, but couldn’t find anything about the father and the son. I am not sure anyway, if somebody is making fun, or I’m just overreacting some ridiculous coincidences, but I’m genuinely scared. I don’t want to spend another night in that house. I scanned the last pages of the diary, and I’m going to post them here so that you will understand.
I called Dad and asked him to pick me up. I’m going to sleep in a hotel room tonight. At least I will have Internet. It feels much safer, plus Daddy will be here by tomorrow morning.
I have to go now ‘cause I have to pack my things. I’m sorry, I don’t want to disturb you. It’s just, you know… Writing this stuff down relaxes me somewhat.

And now, the last pages of the diary:

***

Thursday Evening 03.08.1911

On the way home, I bought the wooden soldier figure Danny had desired for so long. I am trying to achieve some cheerfulness every day, however, I even have to force myself for the feeling sometimes. He is a smart boy. He smiles when he thinks he has to, although I notice if it is not real, of course. Today, his good mood was genuine.
After dinner, he suddenly came back to the kitchen when I was doing the dishes and hugged me, saying thanks for the toy again. As I already had felt emotional, his pure, childish kindness made me cry no matter how hard I tried to suppress it. I dried my hands, turned around and stroked his head.
It would be so good if you were here too, my dear Dora. We would be an unbreakable family, living in happiness. The good old Driumvirate. Do you remember? You were the one who came up with the name when Danny was born. So silly.
I miss you so much I fail to describe it with words or expressions. I do not know if I am a good father. If someone could assure me. I guess, I have to keep doing what I feel right.
It has been two months today, and I still did not give up the hope. Where are you? Please, come back to us if you are still alive. Oh God, I do not want to weep again.

Thursday Night 03.08.1911
It is almost midnight, and I did not intend to write more today, but I have to tell this to you. I was about to go to bed when I heard a groaning noise from outside. It continued to get stronger, then the ground started to shake. I hurried into Danny’s room and found him petrified as the books were falling off from the shelves. Everything was trembling. I grabbed him and rushed out to the small meadow next to the lake, where nothing could fall on us, and we could not fall off from anything either unless the earth had opened up beneath us. When we arrived, the earthquake ended.
I did not want to go back too early, so I was just waiting there with Danny in my arms. Then, we were able to see the moving hill. It sounded like a thousand dynamites, as the enormous amount of rock, mud and trees disappeared towards the lake. I felt like a small insect, and I ran, terrified about being buried alive. Luckily, the landslide stopped a few hundred yards before reaching the fences, however, half of the hill was gone.
We strolled, steadily, holding each other’s hands. When we reached up to the house, the firefighters arrived.
They asked us whether we were hurt. I shook my head. We watched them working, but they realised soon that they could not do much in the middle of the night. It was over.
In the meantime, people from the town arrived as well, to see what had happened. The firefighters sent everyone home.
We went back to the house too, and I put Danny to bed. It took some time until I finally could calm him down.
He is sleeping now. I needed to quiet myself too, as today was not an ordinary day after all. Have a good night darling, wherever you are.

Friday Evening 04.08.1911

This morning rumbling woke us up, not the alarm clock. At dawn firefighters, policemen, scientists, and some curious neighbours observed the remnants of the hill. I spoke to them, and they told me that they were going to do everything not to disturb our everyday life and finish the investigation as soon as it was possible.
Later, I tried to divert Danny’s attention with jokes and questions about the classes he would have today. Still, he kept asking about you. What if you were there when the ground moved? What if
you were injured? What if you were crying for help without anyone hearing it?
I was glad that he had not talked about you lately, darling, but I fooled myself. I concentrated on my own grief, not on our child’s feelings. It seems, only a small pebble was needed to trouble the lake. But how should I make him accept your disappearance after two months? If I look at the facts, he might be right, and you are still alive, somewhere out there.
In the end, I explained to Danny that you were not in trouble, not injured, and not calling for help. I wanted him to stay quiet, so he did. Although I knew, he only pretended to agree with me.
Late afternoon I picked up Danny. The mutton I cooked was delicious, but he did not even touch it, just fumbled with the fork, staring at the men outside. They irritated me. Why did this happen when we were already in the process of getting over a terrible event? Why now? I do not want Danny to see this, to relive this shock again.
My attempts to have a conversation failed, therefore, I sent him to his room. I have done the dishes, then had a few drinks. The events upset me for sure, and there was an old bottle of whisky in the kitchen cupboard. Now, I am writing this seeing two from my letters.
And you? Where are you, darling? Are you living the life you had desired, not even remembering us? How could you leave us like this? It is not fair. I hope you are dead, as if you left us like this, you are the cruellest person I know.

Saturday Morning 05.08.1911

I am so sorry about the things I wrote yesterday. Surely the alcohol took my mind, leaving only the unpleasant thoughts swirling in me.
I wish I could still hear your deep breaths when I wake up in the mornings. I wish I could turn over to see your beautiful face lying on the pillow, then kiss you on the cheek. Instead, all I have is my pencil, my imagination, and the ache that lurks in my head.
At the beginning of the night, vivid nightmares disturbed my sleep, so did they Danny’s. He woke up several times, calling for me. It took long minutes until he fell asleep each time. I decided to
stay with him for the rest of the night.
As I lay awake next to him, a disturbing feeling startled my mind, an urge to go outside. I had never felt anything like it before. However, as quickly it came, as quickly it went, leaving me in peace. The rest of the night passed silently.
I planned a small adventure in the forest for today, but I have to abandon my idea because half of the hill is gone. Instead, we will go to the market in Churchborough.
Oh, I hear he is awake.

Saturday Evening 05.08.1911

We had a glorious day with a lot of sunshine, laughs, and plenty of fun. I bought candies, new trousers for Danny, and to surprise myself too, I purchased a new toolset. Although we have worn our feet down, I am immensely happy.
I am so sorry to say this darling, but I want Danny to forget you for a while. Even I wish I could do the same. Only for a while, until we get ready to remember again, to remember something else than grief and emptiness. If you had seen Danny today, you would understand. He was glowing.
He is in a deep sleep now. I do not expect him to wake, nor do I expect myself once I slip into the soft bedding. I will write more in the morning, my dear. Love you for eternity.

Sunday Morning 06.08.1911

It is 8 am already, and I have not slept an hour, even if I summarise the small naps I had between the awakenings of Danny. He must have had shocking nightmares as his whole body trembled sometimes. When awake, covered in sweat, he was staring at me with his big brown eyes, waiting for some sort of solution. I had no such thing to provide, and I felt so sad about it that I was the one who almost cried.
He did not want to sleep, therefore, I asked him about his visions. He said he had seen you, my dear, in great danger. You had talked to him, but Danny did not remember your words. The place had been dark, wet, and there had been no trace of other people, just shades, rustling on the walls. He had also heard a calling in his head, attracting him like an odd obsession. He said he had wanted to walk somewhere, but where exactly, he did not have a clue. His description of the force was strangely similar to the feeling I had experienced the night before.
I stayed with him, of course. I read tales and funny stories, stroked his back to make him relaxed. He slept a bit, thankfully.

Sunday Evening 06.08.1911

I told Danny this morning that he did not need to do his housework. As it is Sunday today, we are not bothered by the masses of annoying people. They should have finished their work for now anyway.
Thankfully it was sunny outside so that he could play in the backyard, and I could do the chores, undisturbed.
I stayed in his room for an hour or so after finishing dinner and read a few amusing stories. He got sleepy, so I left him. So far, there is quiet.
I say goodbye for now. I am going to read something, then rest.

Monday Morning 07.08.1911

We are over another difficult night, and I do not know what to do. Danny sleepwalked. First, I heard noises from his room. When I looked at him I did not notice anything odd; he was just sleeping silently. I could hear him breathing.
After watching him for a few minutes I attempted to walk back, but a sudden knock disturbed my ears. I went back, and Danny lay on the floor next to his bed. Then, he staggered to his feet and stumbled towards me.
I thought he was going to come to me, but he passed like I was invisible. He shuffled the stairs downwards when I began to follow him. I am aware that sleepwalkers should not be awakened, yet it required all my concentration not to do so. I followed him.
He stopped next to the window and stared at something, but his eyes were closed. I gently touched his shoulder and forehead with my hands and turned him around. At the moment we reached the stairs, his eyelids opened up, trying to glance at the window in despair. I did not let his head go. I whispered nice things to him instead, then raised his leg onto the first step. A strange feeling nested in my brain, as I watched his emotionless face. Something pulled him, just like he said. For a few seconds, I stared into the darkness outside, a small sweat drop running down my temple. Something was out there, I knew, and it made me feel terrified.
Danny let me be the guide, therefore, we reached the room relatively fast. I put him into bed, and he went back to his deep, peaceful sleep almost immediately.
We had this single incident during the night, but I am stressed about it. I have to wake him up soon as there is school today. He is not going to remember anything, I am sure.

Monday Evening 07.08.1911

I did not mention the sleepwalking in the morning, nor did Danny. He said he slept well this time. I got him to school, then went to work.
In the afternoon someone knocked on my office door. I stood up from my desk, shouting that I was coming. A man had opened the door before I could get there and told me that Danny was with
Dr Jenkins, unconscious. He had fallen asleep during class. His teacher, Mrs Boxon had attempted to wake him up, unsuccessfully. After a while, Danny had raised his head, stood up, then had walked to the classroom window. He had been standing there for minutes, eyes shut, then had collapsed.
I hurried to see Dr Jenkins, praying silently for the life of my son. Danny was still asleep when I arrived, but the doctor examined him thoroughly.
He said this was a combination of a trauma and extreme fatigue, and prescribed a weak sedative herbal tea. Danny needs to drink it half an hour before going to bed, every day for a week from now. Dr Jenkins advised not to bother him as this sleeping session may last for more than twelve hours. I politely thanked him for the diagnosis and left.
We are at home now. It is past 9 PM. Danny is still asleep, while I am writing this to you. Sometimes I wish these two months to be a nightmare, just like one of Danny’s. I want to wake up.
We have nothing left from you, darling, nothing. You stepped out of our lives willingly, unwillingly, I do not know, but you left a shattered family behind. I am immensely upset, as I had never thought anything bad about you when I was sober, however now, I cannot fight against my rising subconscious. I will go to bed before I write down something that I would regret the morning after again.

Monday Night 07.08.1911

As I was sleeping, a dreadful howling roused me from the bed. It came from the direction of the lake. I was not sure what had happened to the animals, but it seemed that every creature of the forest began to scream at the same time. I could not bear the sound of them, so I covered my ears with my palms, then I went to check on Danny straight away.
He was not in his bed. I ran down the stairs and found him beside the window, staring into the darkness outside, with open, but lifeless eyes. Certainly, he was sleepwalking again.
Being deaf by the inhuman choir of wilderness, a new horror began in front of my eyes. Danny tried to break the glass, hitting it systematically with his forehead. As I looked at the reflection in the glass, I saw his wide-open mouth, like he never finished yawning.
After I had touched his back, he scratched my face, then jumped towards the entrance, shrieking inarticulately. Blood drops fell over my pyjamas, while Danny became hysterical. In order to get out, he scratched the door like he was put into a coffin alive. He did not care about the pain, and I wondered how he could endure it at all. If I had not stopped him, his nails would have come off in no time.
I grabbed him from behind, shook him and shouted his name. I had to wake him up from this mysterious rampage before he did a bigger harm in me, or worse, in himself. I shook him longer, but it did not make a difference. Shades moved everywhere around us, and I realised that the animals surrounded the house. Their terrible howling filled my head.
I ran to the bathroom, constantly fighting against my delirious son’s attacks. I splashed some cold water on him, which finally woke him up, however, his reaction made me one hundred percent sure that we need professional help, or perhaps we need to leave the town. Clearly, I was not able to control this situation anymore.
After he had woken up, he did not remember anything. It is understandable as he had been asleep. But he was not upset, he did not ask why we were in the bathroom, or why I was bleeding. He accepted the environment as it was. He told me to release him, so I did. My gaze followed him walking up the stairs.
I noticed the silence when Danny disappeared at the top of the stairs. I knew that the animals stopped howling in the exact second of his awakening. I checked all the windows and watched them slowly walking away.
I am writing this next to his bed, by candlelight. He is asleep, but I must not go to bed until he is up in the morning. First thing tomorrow, I will go to the town and call the best dream specialist in the country, and I will get him to see Danny no matter what. I will even go to London if needed. I just hope we get through the night in peace.
About the strange behaviour of the wild animals, I do not know what to say. It must be a coincidence, or surely there is an explanation, which I just cannot see from worrying and my fatigue.
I am going to put the candle out now and let Danny sleep.

Tuesday Evening 08.08.1911

If this note is the last in this diary, I do not mind, but I have to write this down somewhere. I am exhausted, not able to stop crying, and terrified more than ever, therefore, if my words are confusing, I do apologise.
Without a doubt, I made the largest mistake of my life. I had let myself fall asleep last night. When I woke up in the morning, Danny was not in the room. I jumped to my feet, feeling my heartbeat in my throat. I did not feel hopelessness yet, as he could have been in the toilet, in the kitchen, or in the garden. Desperation came a minute later after I had not been able to find him anywhere near. I shouted his name, but there was no answer.
I decided to handle the case on my own. When Dora had disappeared, I had contacted the police too late, and it was too late when we began the search, and most probably that was the second largest mistake of my life.
I packed some cold food, water, warm clothes, and a torch into my bag, then walked towards the hill. Recently, Danny stared at it in daylight, in darkness, awake, or sleepwalking, even when the hill was not visible. It radiated a dragging force. Even I felt it on some of the nights.
The forest was eerily silent. There were no animals rustling, just a weak whistling noise coming from my right side and their trails covering the ground, all leading towards the same direction. The whistling became stronger, so I began to follow the sound and the trails. A few minutes later I found a hole in the ground. Strong wind was gushing out from the crack, which generated the whistling. Rocks covered the place where trees should have been, revealing the horse sized mouth of the hole. I tried to look inside, however, I could not figure out its depth. As I stood next to it, the calling became stronger than ever. It sounds mad, but somehow I knew that I had to go in.
In the cave, daylight died after the first twenty yards, and the rock corridor got narrower. The wet walls, glowing from my torch, were rough, scrubbing my shoulders. I struggled to keep my breathing calm, and I felt my heart throbbing in my throat.
After a few minutes, the walls stopped being irregular. I discovered some sort of pattern on them, getting more detailed as I moved further. Symbols were carved into the sanded stone; only they were not cave paintings I had studied about in school. They looked similar to the Egyptian hieroglyphs. I was certain that they meant or described something, perhaps they showed the path.
As I continued my horrifying journey towards the growing darkness, with eyes fixated on the mysterious drawings, I heard a voice, a laugh. It was Danny. It had to be Danny. Why would he laugh, though, I asked myself, questioning my own sanity.
I doubled the speed of my steps and saw a little light in front of me. I ran, ignoring the warnings of my instincts, then Danny crashed into me from the front, almost stopping my heart. I could not see him coming, but that did not matter anymore. Taking his small hand, I turned towards the exit of the tunnel.
Daddy, I found Mum, he said, and I told him to stop speaking nonsense, and that we were going home. But he pulled me, and when I protested against him, he just slipped out of my hands and ran. I had to follow him.
The scribblings altered to an unorganised mess, like the drawer of them had gone through an insane transformation of the mind. There were pictures drawn about something I could not recognise. Weird signs and absurd looking men around a fire, worshipping something.
A horrible smell hit my nose at once, which I can only describe as a combination of a latrine and a rotting animal corpse, sprinkled with some cinnamon. There was a sweetness to it somehow.
Danny led me to a big hall, where hundreds of holes covered the walls, just like the one we had come out from. It was the inner space of a huge rock cathedral, painted with the terrific hieroglyphs. On the ground lay a strange circle made of rocks and pebbles, like an ancient culture’s sacrificial area, and I found the source of the smell within. It seemed that all the animals from the forest were dead, butchered, piled up in the middle of the circle. Birds, foxes, squirrels, deer; hundreds of them.
I reached to cover Danny’s eyes when some kind of sticky fluid landed on my head. I looked up and glimpsed at Dora, floating in the air above us. I quickly realised that she was not my wife, but something that did not belong to this world. Sane people could not interpret those shapes she was surrounded by. Long, grey tentacles attached her to the entity, leading further to the rocks and pulsating from the fluid flowing through. The disgusting liquid leaked towards the floor, generating the putrid scent, making it stronger than ever.
Oh God, she screamed in agony, giving birth to a new creature. At that moment I recognised the purpose of the animal carcasses. They meant to be food for the new arrival, and looking at my wife being a host of some sort, I recognised the purpose of my son in this alien conspiracy. In my terrible realisation I vomited onto the ground, feeling that not only half digested food left my stomach, but my grief and doubt too.
Danny did not care about anything. He smiled, jumping around in a trance, pointing at the demonic abomination of life that should have been sentenced to death when it was born. I told him that she was not Mummy. Mummy was dead, and this thing used her to lure us here. He did not listen.
I grabbed him and ran towards the hole where we had entered. The monster cried up in an undefinable howl, making the hill shake.
I thought we would be able to get out if I last through Danny’s hysteria, but as I ran, I heard a sloppy thud behind us. I looked back and saw my former wife on the ground, crawling towards us, supported by several tentacles. A half-bred creature was hanging out of her, wailing and scratching the ground between her legs. She shrieked and shot some of the tentacles towards us. I managed to dodge them and entered the passage.
Danny shouted at me, hit me, and tried to get away. I held him firm, but I had no idea if I was running towards the exit at all, because of the utter darkness around us.
Dora and the monster followed us, getting closer quickly, and I began to lose faith when my muscles demonstrated in pain against any movement, then suddenly, giving new hope, the rays of the sun reached us from the surface. With blood in my eyes, though, blinded by the additional light, I stumbled in a small rock and dropped Danny. He vanished at that moment, and I could not catch his legs to hold him back. I called his name, but he did not answer. I heard them reunite, but I did not attempt to fight, as I needed more tools, weapons.
I am here now, my face is bloody, my clothes are wet, and there is a pretty high chance that I am losing my mind. My wife, for whom I wrote this diary in the first place is dead. Killed by an ancient terror, which lurked deep within the hill, waiting for the right time to rise, waiting for the right person to possess. It took my wife; now it wants my child.
If anyone finds this diary, be aware that this is the unaltered truth. My old shotgun is here next to me, and God is my witness, I will go back to rescue my son.

***

21:11 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Jesus Erica, this sounds horrifying. I’ve just read your messages and the story you posted, and I’m seriously worried about you. Are you in the hotel now? Is your Father on his way?
Everything is gonna be alright, don’t worry. It has to be some idiot’s joke.
I’m at the airport now, so I have Wifi constantly. Let me know how things are. I can even call you if you want. xxx

21:17 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

I know, right? It’s bloody scary.
Anyhow, thanks, no need for the call. It would be too expensive. I’m fine. 🙂
I am here in the hotel room. Packed everything important earlier. I’m gonna watch TV or write. That will be perfect to kill the time. I spoke to Dad, and he will arrive early in the morning, so all is good. 🙂

21:18 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Ah okay. 🙂 I’m glad to hear that. You made me anxious, you know.
We can meet up in London tomorrow evening if you want. You can tell me everything, or we can just do something together. Cinema maybe, something social? 🙂

22:31 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

We’re through the security check and going to grab some food before take-off. So anything interesting on the TV? Or did you write?

22:38 Saturday 31.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Erica? Is everything okay?

22:43 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Erica I tried to call you. Where are you? Please, pick up the phone!!!

22:46 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Oh my God, I nodded off for a bit and sleepwalked again. What did this place do to me? I’m still in my room, but I can feel that dragging force again, same as it was in the house, just a lot stronger. What’s happening to me?

Wait a minute…

22:49 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

I found the diary on my bed. I’m sure that I didn’t bring it here.
Ohh my God, my feet are muddy! I brought it here myself, asleep. How could that happen? And the cover… Ohh God, it says: ‘The Driumvirate is here,’ signed by Danny, Dora, and David.

22:52 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Erica, please, just get out of there!! Call a taxi or something!!! Just leave the town behind and tell the driver to go towards London!

23:03 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

You are right. I called a taxi, and tried to call Dad, but he didn’t pick up the phone. They said the car would be here in ten minutes.
I wish you were here with me. The howling of the foxes is audible again. Very faintly, but I’m sure about it. I’m so scared.

23:06 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

I just tried to call again, but you didn’t pick up. Please pick up the phone!!!

23:17 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

I can’t pick it up. I made my phone silent and locked myself in the bathroom.
They are here Gina. The Driumvirate. They came for me. When the taxi arrived, I looked out the window, and they were there, standing beneath a street lamp, staring at me; all three of them. I wanted to run down the stairs, to jump into the taxi quickly, but when I got out of the room they were at the end of the corridor, oozing a horrible stench, and I didn’t see their faces, but I knew that they wanted me to go with them. The Driumvirate is complete again, serving that entity from the diary.
I locked the front door and locked the bathroom door. I don’t want to speak. Maybe they go away. If I stay silent, they will just go away… Ohh my God, the howling of the foxes is so loud now.
I’m trembling as I write, barely able to swallow the sobbing that wants to break out from me, but I have to stay silent.

23:19 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Call the police!!! Can you read this? Stay in the bathroom. Don’t open the door!!!

23:24 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

They are inside the room, Gina. I feel the stench. It’s similar to a decaying animal carcass sprinkled with cinnamon, just like in the diary.
I see the cave in my head with that monstrosity inside, long tentacles crawling on the walls like thousands of slithering rattlesnakes, searching for life to consume. It’s starving, and it wants to eat everything alive. Everything on this planet, but it wants me first. It’s not strong enough to get out of the cave. Doesn’t matter. It can wait. It waited for hundreds of years; now it can wait a bit longer. The Driumvirate will bring food. Me.
I don’t want to die, Gina.

23:28 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Jesus Erica, just try to stay in the bathroom!!! I called the police for you. There’s only one hotel in Half-Hill, so they will find it, but couldn’t tell them the room number. What’s your room number?

23:30 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

They’re calling me. Their voices are so distant in my head, yet so close. I want them to get out of my head, but they’re so strong. The voices tell me to open the door.

23:31 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Please Erica, fight!!! Don’t open the door!!!!

23:33 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

Please pick up the phone!!! I can help you fight them. Please Erica please please

23:34 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger

You must not give up, please answer me!!! I can’t lose you, Erica

23:35 Saturday 22.08.2015 – Facebook Messenger
ERICAAAAA

The End

BACK TO THE STORY BOX