He didn't move. All that he did was stand there, looking at me, although he had no eyes to speak of. For a moment, I wondered how he could see at all.
How was this even possible? When I read that those people saw a man with no face, I thought that they were on drugs. But, since I had never used drugs, and since I had no reason to hallucinate, I knew that this was real. However, in my experience, it was impossible for someone to not have a face. And I vehemently denounced all things supernatural, so he couldn't have been an alien. Charlie, of course, would disagree with me.
Anyway, he just kept standing there. That was perhaps the scariest part. He did nothing. I expected him to chase me, or walk over and slash me open, but he did nothing.
In my understanding, there are three basic types of fear. The most obvious is shock. You turn around, and you see someone behind you with a knife, or you see a pile of gore. Maybe your wife hung herself in the living room. Whatever the case, it's suddenly there, and you don't like it.
The second type is dread. This is something that you know will happen, but you don't want to occur. Or, perhaps, you don't know what the outcome will be, so you expect it to be something terrible. We're afraid of death. We're afraid of life. We're afraid of waking up in the morning and going in to interview for that new job. These things are common place, but they frighten us. Or, perhaps, they scare us because they're so mundane.
The last, and the single most terrifying of all, is static. This is rooted in uncertainty. There's nothing behind you. It's relatively mundane, but this isn't why you fear it. Something is "just not right". You're in an empty room, it's dark. Nothing's happening. You keep telling yourself that it's all going to be alright, but you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. You get paranoid. You act rashly. You are consumed by fear.
That third type was the one that I was experiencing, and it was hitting me at full power. My body was shaking, and I couldn't move. My thoughts were scattered. I had a thousand questions in my head. Why was he here? Why wasn't he attacking me? What did he want? Would he kill me?
Suddenly, I started coughing. I couldn't stop. Then, the coughing began to produce blood. At the point, I wondered if that was a reaction to fear, or something else entirely. Could Slender Man be doing this? Was he supernatural, after all?
My nose then decided that it was jealous of my throat, and joined in the bleeding. The red liquid ran down my lips and splattered on the ground. A bit of it missed the target, and ended up in my mouth. I gagged.
I felt nauseous. Whether it was from the taste of blood, or part of the general illness that had taken hold of me, I was unsure. I was sure of one thing, though. I was tired of this.
"Come at me!" I yelled, "Is this all that you're gonna do, make me sick? Get over here and kill me! Show me something interesting! Rip my chest open. Slash my throat. Give me a reason to be scared! DO SOMETHING!"
Slender man suddenly sprouted multiple arms. Or, they were something similar to arms. I wasn't sure what to call them, but they were long and tentacle-like. They were only arms in appearance.
He then started walking. I took a gulp as I realized that he listened to me. What was I thinking?
He was getting closer. I wanted to run, but my body wouldn't allow it. I was forced to endure my fate.
My legs were trembling. My heart was pounding in my chest. Sweat was pouring down my face. Slender Man was standing before me, his face inches from my own. I grimaced in preparation for the inevitable. After another moment of inaction, he finally made contact. He wrapped one of his bizarre tentacle-arms around my neck.
He squeezed harder and harder. I was losing air. I struggled to get free, but it made it worse. When scarcely had any breath left in me, and I lost all hope for survival, he let go.
I was stunned. I looked around to see if anybody else saw any of this, but no one was there. When I turned back to look at Slender Man, he was gone. I was left to wonder why he didn't kill me.
With no reason left to appear tough, I let the tears stream down my face. There was no one there to comfort me, and the only person that I could talk to about any of this was away with his parents. I was a mile away from home, but I had no reason to leave. The only parental figure that was anywhere nearby was an overpayed babysitter. I had nothing left.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Part Ten (April 20, 1972)
As I had mostly been in school, not much happened during those last four days, beyond listening to teachers call on students to solve math problems that were above their skill level. Granted, it was slightly amusing to watch people get yelled at for being "stupid", but it wasn't of any use to the Slender Man investigation. Therefore, I won't mention it too much.
Anyway, I got home from school that Thursday, determined to continue looking into the kidnappings. Over the past few days, I had slowly covered my room in borrowed library books and newspaper articles. It may have been a little obsessive, but I was curious. Besides, I had nothing better to do. My homework was complete, and Charlie was out of town for the afternoon. My parents were both working overtime, and they had left me with a highly ineffectual babysitter. In short, I was free to do what I wanted, but there was nothing else that I wanted to do.
So, I perused the research that I had gathered. After hours of digging through leads that I knew would go nowhere, I arrived at something interesting.
It was a Slender Man sighting from someone who was devoid of children. He was a recent college graduate by the name of Howard Grady. He refused to disclose his street address or phone number, but, after some further research, I found out that he frequented this nightclub called Trend's Corner. I would look more into it later, I decided.
Putting my books away, I chose to be done for the night. The babysitter was busy watching some crappy nighttime soap, so I had no trouble getting outside without being screamed at. Once I got out there, however, I was unsure where to go.
After a moment of thinking, I walked down to the market for some candy. Most of the clerks were nice, and they were more open to children walking in without parents, as long as they were at least nine.
I bought some suckers and Mars bars, and then headed out. I needed to get home as soon as possible. Otherwise, if my sitter's show ended, she would notice that I was gone. She was easily distracted, but she wasn't dumb. If I wasn't home when she got up from the couch, things would not end well for me. So, I ran.
On my way back, I stopped and sat at a bench for a few minutes. I was out of breath from running so much, so I needed a bit of a breather. I did still need to get home, but I didn't mind this little detour. There was something strangely peaceful about watching cars go by, and staring at birds on telephone wires.
A few minutes later, my breath was restored, and I was ready to get up. When I was doing so, however, I noticed something across the street. There, staring at me with a blank face, was an abnormally tall man in black fatigues. I froze. Slender Man was upon me.
Anyway, I got home from school that Thursday, determined to continue looking into the kidnappings. Over the past few days, I had slowly covered my room in borrowed library books and newspaper articles. It may have been a little obsessive, but I was curious. Besides, I had nothing better to do. My homework was complete, and Charlie was out of town for the afternoon. My parents were both working overtime, and they had left me with a highly ineffectual babysitter. In short, I was free to do what I wanted, but there was nothing else that I wanted to do.
So, I perused the research that I had gathered. After hours of digging through leads that I knew would go nowhere, I arrived at something interesting.
It was a Slender Man sighting from someone who was devoid of children. He was a recent college graduate by the name of Howard Grady. He refused to disclose his street address or phone number, but, after some further research, I found out that he frequented this nightclub called Trend's Corner. I would look more into it later, I decided.
Putting my books away, I chose to be done for the night. The babysitter was busy watching some crappy nighttime soap, so I had no trouble getting outside without being screamed at. Once I got out there, however, I was unsure where to go.
After a moment of thinking, I walked down to the market for some candy. Most of the clerks were nice, and they were more open to children walking in without parents, as long as they were at least nine.
I bought some suckers and Mars bars, and then headed out. I needed to get home as soon as possible. Otherwise, if my sitter's show ended, she would notice that I was gone. She was easily distracted, but she wasn't dumb. If I wasn't home when she got up from the couch, things would not end well for me. So, I ran.
On my way back, I stopped and sat at a bench for a few minutes. I was out of breath from running so much, so I needed a bit of a breather. I did still need to get home, but I didn't mind this little detour. There was something strangely peaceful about watching cars go by, and staring at birds on telephone wires.
A few minutes later, my breath was restored, and I was ready to get up. When I was doing so, however, I noticed something across the street. There, staring at me with a blank face, was an abnormally tall man in black fatigues. I froze. Slender Man was upon me.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Part Nine (April 16, 1972)
"I don't know who this guy is," Charlie admitted as he reached over to close the door, "But anyone who has the balls to display a body in front of a tree, moments after the killer was there, is the king of all badasses. He could've run, but he stuck around long enough to warn us. That takes guts."
"You know, I don't want to rain on your parade, but what if it wasn't a warning?" I asked after a moment, "Just think about it for a second. As far as we know, this person got there somewhere around two minutes after the killing took place. If Slender Man wanted him dead, he would have offed him by then. But, for whatever reason, he left him alive. So, what if this dude displayed the body because he was working for Slender Man?"
"You're saying that this guy is a quack-job who likes putting symbols on trees as a pride thing? Sorry, but I just don't think so. I don't claim to know much about this kind of thing, but from years of reading murder mysteries, these psycho-types don't normally work together. They're lone wolves, almost by definition. Even if he was an accomplice, it wouldn't make sense for one guy to gut the kid, while his partner did all of the theatrical stuff."
"Why your folks let you read those books, I will never know." I said with a smirk.
"I know, right?" Charlie exclaimed, grinning impishly, "I'm exactly the type of kid who'd go out and murder someone."
All joking aside, what he said made sense. There wasn't much room to suggest that he had displayed the body as anything but a warning. However, there was still one thing that bugged me. "If he wanted to draw attention to the body, then why would he place it behind the tree?"
"You know, I don't want to rain on your parade, but what if it wasn't a warning?" I asked after a moment, "Just think about it for a second. As far as we know, this person got there somewhere around two minutes after the killing took place. If Slender Man wanted him dead, he would have offed him by then. But, for whatever reason, he left him alive. So, what if this dude displayed the body because he was working for Slender Man?"
"You're saying that this guy is a quack-job who likes putting symbols on trees as a pride thing? Sorry, but I just don't think so. I don't claim to know much about this kind of thing, but from years of reading murder mysteries, these psycho-types don't normally work together. They're lone wolves, almost by definition. Even if he was an accomplice, it wouldn't make sense for one guy to gut the kid, while his partner did all of the theatrical stuff."
"Why your folks let you read those books, I will never know." I said with a smirk.
"I know, right?" Charlie exclaimed, grinning impishly, "I'm exactly the type of kid who'd go out and murder someone."
All joking aside, what he said made sense. There wasn't much room to suggest that he had displayed the body as anything but a warning. However, there was still one thing that bugged me. "If he wanted to draw attention to the body, then why would he place it behind the tree?"
Monday, November 5, 2012
Part Eight (April 16, 1972)
We left the station, thinking about all that we had learned that day. Who was this man who had left the warning on the tree? What was his purpose, and how was he connected to Slender Man? Of course, we knew that delving too far could attract our child-stalking enemy, but these questions consumed us. We needed to find the answers, no matter what the cost.
As we walked home, we couldn't get away from hearing people get all worked up about the Apollo 16 Launch, which we didn't even bother to watch. It was slightly annoying, because I wanted to watch it, but I spent too much time talking to Charlie about Slender Man and that boy in the woods. Oh, well. I figured that they'd show more footage when they arrived on the moon.
We arrived at my house in silence. Charlie figured that, since he was already with me, he might as well just stay over. Anyway, once we got inside, I expected Ma and Pa to scream at me for being irresponsible enough to walk into a murder scene. Surprisingly, they said nothing. I definitely didn't mind.
Fortunately for Charlie, he already had the police contact his parents and explain the situation to them. We were both glad abut that. It was one less hassle to deal with.
From there, we walked into my room. I turned on the television and and put the news coverage of the launch. We listened to it in the background as we talked.
As we walked home, we couldn't get away from hearing people get all worked up about the Apollo 16 Launch, which we didn't even bother to watch. It was slightly annoying, because I wanted to watch it, but I spent too much time talking to Charlie about Slender Man and that boy in the woods. Oh, well. I figured that they'd show more footage when they arrived on the moon.
We arrived at my house in silence. Charlie figured that, since he was already with me, he might as well just stay over. Anyway, once we got inside, I expected Ma and Pa to scream at me for being irresponsible enough to walk into a murder scene. Surprisingly, they said nothing. I definitely didn't mind.
Fortunately for Charlie, he already had the police contact his parents and explain the situation to them. We were both glad abut that. It was one less hassle to deal with.
From there, we walked into my room. I turned on the television and and put the news coverage of the launch. We listened to it in the background as we talked.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Part Seven (April 16, 1972)
After the police disposed of the body, they took us down to the station to take our statements. They took us into one of those interrogation rooms with one of those long tables. They were going to question us separately, but Charlie insisted that they let us go in together. It was fine, they told us.
"Could you state your names, please?" One of the cops said. The other one stayed outside.
"Lyle Johnson," I said.
"Charles Bucklin," Charlie said. He lowered his brows. He hated using his real name. He found it to be too fancy and obnoxious sounding. I'd always told him that it didn't, but that never really helped anything. It was usually met with a long lecture, which was generally filled with a great deal of cursing.
"So," the officer continued, "Why were you in the forest?"
"We got bored at my house, so we went exploring." Charlie answered.
"Is that correct, Mr. Johnson?"
"Yes."
"And can you tell me what you saw?" The cop asked.
"Don't you already know that?" Charlie asked.
"Yes," the officer said, "But it's standard procedure."
So that Charlie didn't ask any more stupid questions, I answered for him. It wasn't that he was dumb; he certainly wasn't. But he sometimes said things without really thinking them through. He usually realized the stupidity of his words, once he had spoken them, but he was too impulsive to consider what he said beforehand.
"We were waking through the woods, and we saw the body of a little boy covered in blood. And there was a strange "X" symbol carved on a tree."
"Did you handle the body in any way?" The cop asked.
"No. We didn't want to mess with the crime scene." I said.
"I see. What did you do when you left the woods?"
"We went back to Charlie's house. In the morning, after playing some games outside, we went to the library. We were curious to see if we could find any information on recent disappearances of children." I said.
"We dug through some news papers." Charlie added, "After a while, we found a few interesting articles. Most of them were a few weeks old."
"What was in these articles?"
"They were all reports of missing children." Charlie said, "Most of them had disappeared while the parents were off doing something. That seemed pretty straightforward, at first, but then we discovered that some of the kids had mentioned something about a tall, skinny guy in a suit. For convenience, we've nicknamed him 'Slender Man.'"
"Yes, we are familiar with those reports, but they've been inconsistent. But we may investigate further into it. If true, these reports seem to indicate a serial kidnapper. Whether or not the murder is tied to the kidnappings is uncertain, but we will look into it."
"And what if he comes after us?" I asked, "We're basically witnesses."
"Yes, but you didn't see the murder actually take place. However, you are children, and this kidnapper does seem to target youths. Also, you arrived shortly after the crimes were committed. If the killer was still present while you were there, you would have a valid point. So, if you would like your families to be relocated, you may request so."
I looked at Charlie, and he looked at me. Were we in danger, and did we really want to move away? After some thought, I said, "No, I think that I'll be okay for now."
"And you...?" He turned to my friend.
"I think that I'll be okay." He said.
"Alright then," the cop said, "If you feel endangered in the future, you will still have the option to be relocated. Now, you're free. That's all that I need from you, boys."
With that, we started walking out the door. As we were on the way out, the cop yelled for us to wait. "One more thing," He said, "If these are really kidnappings, we will do all that we can to catch the perpetrator. This... Slender Man will be apprehended."
"Could you state your names, please?" One of the cops said. The other one stayed outside.
"Lyle Johnson," I said.
"Charles Bucklin," Charlie said. He lowered his brows. He hated using his real name. He found it to be too fancy and obnoxious sounding. I'd always told him that it didn't, but that never really helped anything. It was usually met with a long lecture, which was generally filled with a great deal of cursing.
"So," the officer continued, "Why were you in the forest?"
"We got bored at my house, so we went exploring." Charlie answered.
"Is that correct, Mr. Johnson?"
"Yes."
"And can you tell me what you saw?" The cop asked.
"Don't you already know that?" Charlie asked.
"Yes," the officer said, "But it's standard procedure."
So that Charlie didn't ask any more stupid questions, I answered for him. It wasn't that he was dumb; he certainly wasn't. But he sometimes said things without really thinking them through. He usually realized the stupidity of his words, once he had spoken them, but he was too impulsive to consider what he said beforehand.
"We were waking through the woods, and we saw the body of a little boy covered in blood. And there was a strange "X" symbol carved on a tree."
"Did you handle the body in any way?" The cop asked.
"No. We didn't want to mess with the crime scene." I said.
"I see. What did you do when you left the woods?"
"We went back to Charlie's house. In the morning, after playing some games outside, we went to the library. We were curious to see if we could find any information on recent disappearances of children." I said.
"We dug through some news papers." Charlie added, "After a while, we found a few interesting articles. Most of them were a few weeks old."
"What was in these articles?"
"They were all reports of missing children." Charlie said, "Most of them had disappeared while the parents were off doing something. That seemed pretty straightforward, at first, but then we discovered that some of the kids had mentioned something about a tall, skinny guy in a suit. For convenience, we've nicknamed him 'Slender Man.'"
"Yes, we are familiar with those reports, but they've been inconsistent. But we may investigate further into it. If true, these reports seem to indicate a serial kidnapper. Whether or not the murder is tied to the kidnappings is uncertain, but we will look into it."
"And what if he comes after us?" I asked, "We're basically witnesses."
"Yes, but you didn't see the murder actually take place. However, you are children, and this kidnapper does seem to target youths. Also, you arrived shortly after the crimes were committed. If the killer was still present while you were there, you would have a valid point. So, if you would like your families to be relocated, you may request so."
I looked at Charlie, and he looked at me. Were we in danger, and did we really want to move away? After some thought, I said, "No, I think that I'll be okay for now."
"And you...?" He turned to my friend.
"I think that I'll be okay." He said.
"Alright then," the cop said, "If you feel endangered in the future, you will still have the option to be relocated. Now, you're free. That's all that I need from you, boys."
With that, we started walking out the door. As we were on the way out, the cop yelled for us to wait. "One more thing," He said, "If these are really kidnappings, we will do all that we can to catch the perpetrator. This... Slender Man will be apprehended."
Part Six (April 16, 1972)
Charlie and the cops showed up at about the same time. After some basic conversation about what two kids were doing in the forest, et cetera, we started to head out. There were a couple of parental freakouts and things, but, other than that, things went rather smoothly. When everything was cleared up, we got in the back of the police car and left.
When we got to the woods, I was happy. There was nothing left to indicate that it was us. It was really nice to no longer feel guilty, especially after riding in the back of a cop car. Anyway, we soon got to that tree with the weird symbol on it. The officers we really interested in this. "Is this some sort of call sign?" One asked the other.
"Could be..." The other answered, "But, before we go over what it could mean, we need to see this body."
Charlie walked to the bush behind the tree, where we had found the little boy. "Here it is." He said with confidence. The police joined him. They glanced down at the corpse, and gave each other shocked expressions. "Is this exactly where you found it?" One cop asked.
"Yes, sir." I said.
Once again, the police turned to one another. "Are you sure?" The other questioned. I nodded.
"There are streaks of blood behind the cadaver, suggesting that it was dragged." He added, "They seem to start about fifty feet back, in that grove of trees." They walked over to investigate. We followed closely behind.
In the middle of the clearing was a large puddle of blood. There was still snow in the area, but the only foot prints were the boy's. There weren't even any deer tracks.
"How is that possible?" One man asked. Charlie and I shrugged. The other officer remained completely still. After recovering from the seeming implausibility of this situation, the two police began to track the child's prints back to the source. After about ten minutes, we came to what we thought was his entry point. We could not be sure, however, because the snow had faded or disappeared in many areas. But we could reasonably assume that this was where he came in.
We then walked back through what we estimated was his path. At first his tracks were evenly spaced. Then, they got closer together and more erratic. From this, it was easy to conclude that he started running about halfway through. This thing that killed him, the one that didn't leave footprints when it walked... He must have seen it and become frightened.
There were skid marks in the snow, as if he had fallen. That was it. He had run from this entity, but he tripped before he could get away. Then, before he could get up, it attacked him.
The cops looked at the body again. "You know," one said to the other, "That woman who lost her child two days ago... This is her son." He pulled out a photo. The other cop nodded.
"Because we can't look for missing persons until three days have passed, if you boys wouldn't have called us, we wouldn't have found this kid for weeks. Thank you."
On that note, they started walking off. We came behind them. Suddenly, I discovered something. "There's another set of footprints." I pointed out. The cops looked astonished.
I gestured to the left of me. The tracks went through some shrubbery, so they were mostly hidden from view. According to the cops, they had been made my an adult male. And, by the style of shoes that he wore, he was likely in his mid 20s. At first, it seemed odd that these prints didn't show up near the blood. But, upon closer examination, they did. To the left of the puddle, on the edge of the patch of snow, was a fragment of a shoe print. Because most of the snow had melted, the rest of the prints had vanished. Those that had not were covered in smears of blood, and were no longer visible.
At first, this seemed to indicate that this person was the killer. However, there was a significant problem with this. All wounds on the body were on the right. This man had come from the left.
But if he wasn't the killer, why did he move the body? It didn't make any sense. So, we walked back to the tree. Since the corpse was so close by, and since there was a symbol carved in the trunk, it initially seemed like the killer had put him up for display. But since the body was dragged by a second person, and he didn't seem to be an accomplice, it meant something else.
It wasn't a grave. The body hadn't been buried. It had been deliberately placed near the tree. That only left one logical conclusion. The symbol was a warning.
When we got to the woods, I was happy. There was nothing left to indicate that it was us. It was really nice to no longer feel guilty, especially after riding in the back of a cop car. Anyway, we soon got to that tree with the weird symbol on it. The officers we really interested in this. "Is this some sort of call sign?" One asked the other.
"Could be..." The other answered, "But, before we go over what it could mean, we need to see this body."
Charlie walked to the bush behind the tree, where we had found the little boy. "Here it is." He said with confidence. The police joined him. They glanced down at the corpse, and gave each other shocked expressions. "Is this exactly where you found it?" One cop asked.
"Yes, sir." I said.
Once again, the police turned to one another. "Are you sure?" The other questioned. I nodded.
"There are streaks of blood behind the cadaver, suggesting that it was dragged." He added, "They seem to start about fifty feet back, in that grove of trees." They walked over to investigate. We followed closely behind.
In the middle of the clearing was a large puddle of blood. There was still snow in the area, but the only foot prints were the boy's. There weren't even any deer tracks.
"How is that possible?" One man asked. Charlie and I shrugged. The other officer remained completely still. After recovering from the seeming implausibility of this situation, the two police began to track the child's prints back to the source. After about ten minutes, we came to what we thought was his entry point. We could not be sure, however, because the snow had faded or disappeared in many areas. But we could reasonably assume that this was where he came in.
We then walked back through what we estimated was his path. At first his tracks were evenly spaced. Then, they got closer together and more erratic. From this, it was easy to conclude that he started running about halfway through. This thing that killed him, the one that didn't leave footprints when it walked... He must have seen it and become frightened.
There were skid marks in the snow, as if he had fallen. That was it. He had run from this entity, but he tripped before he could get away. Then, before he could get up, it attacked him.
The cops looked at the body again. "You know," one said to the other, "That woman who lost her child two days ago... This is her son." He pulled out a photo. The other cop nodded.
"Because we can't look for missing persons until three days have passed, if you boys wouldn't have called us, we wouldn't have found this kid for weeks. Thank you."
On that note, they started walking off. We came behind them. Suddenly, I discovered something. "There's another set of footprints." I pointed out. The cops looked astonished.
I gestured to the left of me. The tracks went through some shrubbery, so they were mostly hidden from view. According to the cops, they had been made my an adult male. And, by the style of shoes that he wore, he was likely in his mid 20s. At first, it seemed odd that these prints didn't show up near the blood. But, upon closer examination, they did. To the left of the puddle, on the edge of the patch of snow, was a fragment of a shoe print. Because most of the snow had melted, the rest of the prints had vanished. Those that had not were covered in smears of blood, and were no longer visible.
At first, this seemed to indicate that this person was the killer. However, there was a significant problem with this. All wounds on the body were on the right. This man had come from the left.
But if he wasn't the killer, why did he move the body? It didn't make any sense. So, we walked back to the tree. Since the corpse was so close by, and since there was a symbol carved in the trunk, it initially seemed like the killer had put him up for display. But since the body was dragged by a second person, and he didn't seem to be an accomplice, it meant something else.
It wasn't a grave. The body hadn't been buried. It had been deliberately placed near the tree. That only left one logical conclusion. The symbol was a warning.
Part Five (April 16, 1972)
I had spent another night at Charlie's, and had since returned home. As soon as I got there, my parents started ranting at me for not telling them that I was planning on spending the weekend there, and not just one night. Well, I'm sorry, but I was too wrapped up in this "dead child in the woods" thing to pick up the phone and call again. In fact, I had I hardly cared about my folks at all, at this point. There were much more pressing issues, such as trying to avoid being implicated in murder.
Anyway, after apologizing about 30 times, and being forced to clean the entire apartment as punishment, I went up to my room. I looked out my window. The snow had melted in most spots, but there were still a few piles of it here and there. Thank God. I had waited two days for this God-damned snow to go away. The paranoia had begun to consume me. Everywhere that I looked for the last 48 hours, I saw cops. I mean everywhere, even in the most implausible places. When I took a shower at Charlie's that morning, I saw one in the bathroom. I nearly had a stroke.
So, after a couple days of feeling like a criminal, I could finally be free. The snow was gone, and our footprints had probably vanished with it. Of course, I knew that I had to call the police, so I wasn't entirely relieved.
I walked downstairs, and picked up the phone in the living room. I hesitated a bit as I dialed those three little numbers. Then, after a moment, I got through to the dispatcher. She started with the typical jazz, asking what my problem was and all of that. So, feeling incredibly nervous, I told her.
"Two days ago, me and my friend, Charlie... We were walking in the woods, and we found this body of this little boy. He was all covered in blood, and his guts were ripped open."
"Could you tell me which woods you found the body in?" She asked politely. I did my best to answer her. Everybody in town knew which woods I was talking about, but I never remembered the specific street that it was located next to. Thus, I gave an approximate address. I was a kid, after all.
"Okay," she continued, "Could you tell me why you didn't contact us earlier?"
"We're kids." I said, "We were scared."
"Alright," she said, "We'll send someone over in about ten minutes."
I thanked her and hung up. Now, I needed to ask Charlie over. He was a fellow witness, so he obviously needed to be here with me. I grabbed the phone again, and I dialed his number. After something like eight rings, his parents picked up.
"Hey, could I talk to Charlie?" I asked.
"Sure, Lyle. Hold on a minute." He said. In the background, I could here him yelling at Lyle to pick up the phone. I chuckled a tad.
"Hello?" Charlie asked after a while.
"Hey, it's Lyle." I whispered, "I called the police. I need you over here."
"Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes."
Anyway, after apologizing about 30 times, and being forced to clean the entire apartment as punishment, I went up to my room. I looked out my window. The snow had melted in most spots, but there were still a few piles of it here and there. Thank God. I had waited two days for this God-damned snow to go away. The paranoia had begun to consume me. Everywhere that I looked for the last 48 hours, I saw cops. I mean everywhere, even in the most implausible places. When I took a shower at Charlie's that morning, I saw one in the bathroom. I nearly had a stroke.
So, after a couple days of feeling like a criminal, I could finally be free. The snow was gone, and our footprints had probably vanished with it. Of course, I knew that I had to call the police, so I wasn't entirely relieved.
I walked downstairs, and picked up the phone in the living room. I hesitated a bit as I dialed those three little numbers. Then, after a moment, I got through to the dispatcher. She started with the typical jazz, asking what my problem was and all of that. So, feeling incredibly nervous, I told her.
"Two days ago, me and my friend, Charlie... We were walking in the woods, and we found this body of this little boy. He was all covered in blood, and his guts were ripped open."
"Could you tell me which woods you found the body in?" She asked politely. I did my best to answer her. Everybody in town knew which woods I was talking about, but I never remembered the specific street that it was located next to. Thus, I gave an approximate address. I was a kid, after all.
"Okay," she continued, "Could you tell me why you didn't contact us earlier?"
"We're kids." I said, "We were scared."
"Alright," she said, "We'll send someone over in about ten minutes."
I thanked her and hung up. Now, I needed to ask Charlie over. He was a fellow witness, so he obviously needed to be here with me. I grabbed the phone again, and I dialed his number. After something like eight rings, his parents picked up.
"Hey, could I talk to Charlie?" I asked.
"Sure, Lyle. Hold on a minute." He said. In the background, I could here him yelling at Lyle to pick up the phone. I chuckled a tad.
"Hello?" Charlie asked after a while.
"Hey, it's Lyle." I whispered, "I called the police. I need you over here."
"Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes."
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Part Four (April 15, 1972)
After spending the night at Charlie's, he and I spent the morning playing tag and stick ball in the back yard. For the latter, we obviously didn't have enough people to make a team, so we resorted to merely throwing the ball to each other and seeing how far we could bat it. We had to go fetch it every time. After Charlie hit three home runs into the neighbor's yard, we called it quits. Instead we used the sticks to sword fight. I won after stabbing Charlie in the chest. I felt accomplished. Usually, he ended up chopping off my head.
After some time, we strolled down to the library to see what if we could find any news paper articles about recent child abductions. At first, we didn't find much. Then, after we starting digging a little more, we found what we were looking for in a two-week-old issue. There was this little boy named Ricky Van Sutton, who mysteriously disappeared from his home about three weeks back. Apparently, his mother saw him watching TV one minute, then, when she turned her back to gather laundry for the washing machine, he was gone. She also said that, about a day before his disappearance, Ricky had mentioned seeing a "scary, tall man" on the other side of the street. When the mother walked out there to see what he was talking about, there was no one there. She then punished her son for lying.
Unfortunately, Ricky's photo in the paper did not match the appearance of the boy in the bushes. This disappointed us. However, about four days farther back, there was mention of a similar vanishing of a girl named Molly. The article made no mention of a tall man. Then, from a two-month old paper, we discovered reports of two boys who disappeared less than 48 hours apart. In both stories, there were accounts of the children seeing a thin, tall man. One of them even detailed that he was wearing a business suit.
We were excited. For us, the most exciting thing that ever happened was some kid getting sent to the principal's office for drawing crude pictures of the teacher. This, although morbid, was amazing to us. We needed to find more.
We then started going through older records from the '50s. We only found one mention of a kidnapping, but it was intriguing. In the article in question, a father lost his four-year-old son at an amusement park while he was occupied with buying cotton candy. Minutes before, the son mentioned something about "a really skinny man who stared at [him] without a face." The dad had gone to question the guy about why he was staring at his child, and making him cry, but he supposedly left before he could even say anything. When the father brought this up to the cops, they called him crazy.
We couldn't get much more information before the librarian kicked us out for being in there without parental accompaniment. We didn't care, though. We had what we needed.
After that, we walked back to my to Charlie's house with smiles on our faces. We ate lunch with his parents and then went back up to his room to watch TV. When we got there, Charlie turned to me. "I wanna ask you something." He said, "How do you know so much about crime scenes?"
"My uncle's a cop." I answered. Charlie nodded.
After some time, we strolled down to the library to see what if we could find any news paper articles about recent child abductions. At first, we didn't find much. Then, after we starting digging a little more, we found what we were looking for in a two-week-old issue. There was this little boy named Ricky Van Sutton, who mysteriously disappeared from his home about three weeks back. Apparently, his mother saw him watching TV one minute, then, when she turned her back to gather laundry for the washing machine, he was gone. She also said that, about a day before his disappearance, Ricky had mentioned seeing a "scary, tall man" on the other side of the street. When the mother walked out there to see what he was talking about, there was no one there. She then punished her son for lying.
Unfortunately, Ricky's photo in the paper did not match the appearance of the boy in the bushes. This disappointed us. However, about four days farther back, there was mention of a similar vanishing of a girl named Molly. The article made no mention of a tall man. Then, from a two-month old paper, we discovered reports of two boys who disappeared less than 48 hours apart. In both stories, there were accounts of the children seeing a thin, tall man. One of them even detailed that he was wearing a business suit.
We were excited. For us, the most exciting thing that ever happened was some kid getting sent to the principal's office for drawing crude pictures of the teacher. This, although morbid, was amazing to us. We needed to find more.
We then started going through older records from the '50s. We only found one mention of a kidnapping, but it was intriguing. In the article in question, a father lost his four-year-old son at an amusement park while he was occupied with buying cotton candy. Minutes before, the son mentioned something about "a really skinny man who stared at [him] without a face." The dad had gone to question the guy about why he was staring at his child, and making him cry, but he supposedly left before he could even say anything. When the father brought this up to the cops, they called him crazy.
We couldn't get much more information before the librarian kicked us out for being in there without parental accompaniment. We didn't care, though. We had what we needed.
After that, we walked back to my to Charlie's house with smiles on our faces. We ate lunch with his parents and then went back up to his room to watch TV. When we got there, Charlie turned to me. "I wanna ask you something." He said, "How do you know so much about crime scenes?"
"My uncle's a cop." I answered. Charlie nodded.
Part Three (April 14, 1972)
"Okay, so that wasn't you." I concluded as Charlie joined me by the body, "In that case, we're either dealing with Bigfoot or The Invisible Man. And, since neither of those actually exist, we're screwed. Killers can be smart, but I have no clue how they pulled this off."
"Neither do I." Charlie admitted, still cupping his nuts in pain, "But that shouldn't matter right now. What do we do with the body?" With his free hand, he reached down to touch it.
"Wait!" I shouted, "Don't move it."
"Why not? We need to get rid of it."
"And you called me a moron? Look, if you move the body, you compromise the crime scene. Don't do anything with the body. We already left footprints in the snow. They're going to think that it's us. So, the best thing to do would be to wait a couple of days, until the snow melts, and then call the police. If we do anything else, we'll look like we did it."
On that note, we walked back to Charlie's house. Several minutes went by, before anyone spoke. I had too much on my mind at the moment, and I'm sure that Charlie did, too. We both knew what would happen if the police could tie the murder to us. If that snow didn't melt on time, and someone found the body, we would have no plausible deniability. Not only had we left tracks in the snow, but we had also left indentations where our bodies made contact in the fight. Also, some of our blood could have dripped off of us. And that would be hard to cover up.
Then, I spoke. Partially out of genuine regret, and partially to distract him from having the same thoughts that I had, I apologized to Charlie. It wasn't anything fancy; it was just a simple "I'm sorry about punching you in the face, and possibly ruining any chance that you'll have to ever conceive children."
"Nah, it's fine." He said, "I shouldn't have made that stupid Bambi joke. Let's call it even."
"Neither do I." Charlie admitted, still cupping his nuts in pain, "But that shouldn't matter right now. What do we do with the body?" With his free hand, he reached down to touch it.
"Wait!" I shouted, "Don't move it."
"Why not? We need to get rid of it."
"And you called me a moron? Look, if you move the body, you compromise the crime scene. Don't do anything with the body. We already left footprints in the snow. They're going to think that it's us. So, the best thing to do would be to wait a couple of days, until the snow melts, and then call the police. If we do anything else, we'll look like we did it."
On that note, we walked back to Charlie's house. Several minutes went by, before anyone spoke. I had too much on my mind at the moment, and I'm sure that Charlie did, too. We both knew what would happen if the police could tie the murder to us. If that snow didn't melt on time, and someone found the body, we would have no plausible deniability. Not only had we left tracks in the snow, but we had also left indentations where our bodies made contact in the fight. Also, some of our blood could have dripped off of us. And that would be hard to cover up.
Then, I spoke. Partially out of genuine regret, and partially to distract him from having the same thoughts that I had, I apologized to Charlie. It wasn't anything fancy; it was just a simple "I'm sorry about punching you in the face, and possibly ruining any chance that you'll have to ever conceive children."
"Nah, it's fine." He said, "I shouldn't have made that stupid Bambi joke. Let's call it even."
Part Two (April 14, 1972)
Earlier that day, Charlie had told me that he had something really weird to show me, and to come over as soon as possible. Being ten, that sounded kinda cool. So, the moment that I was done with my homework, I ran over to see what was going on.
A couple of blocks later, I arrived. I opened the door, briefly waved at his folks, and walked up the stairs to his room. I found him sitting on his bed. "Alright, I'm here." I said, "What was it that you wanted to show me?"
"You'll see," he said, "Just come with me." It was a slightly annoying response, but I didn't comment on it. I knew that he'd just roll his eyes at me, anyway. So, I followed him out the door.
We walked about a mile before we came to some random forest on the edge of town. I'd probably gone there about a thousand times before. Frankly, I saw nothing special about it, and I wondered why he had brought me there. So I asked him.
"This is what you wanted to show me‽" I yelled.
"Shut up for a second, will ya?" He asked me, giving me a playful shove. "You'll see it in a minute."
As We went deeper into the forest, I looked around. Despite the fact that it was mid spring, many of the trees were still barren of leaves, and it had snowed recently. That was a bit unusual, but it wasn't awe-inspiring. What could he possibly have had to show me?
I kept looking, but there was still nothing. I was beginning to want to go back, but I kept going, just in case Charlie wasn't just screwing with me. Just then, I head a rustling in the bushes. I didn't think much of it, at first, but it kept going; a persistent rattling noise. I felt my heart beating faster.
Then, something ran out from the shrubbery, and leapt in front of me. I barely had a chance to look at it, before I dived for the ground, shouting at full capacity. When I got up, I was breathing heavily. Charlie was laughing hysterically for some reason. "What?" I asked him.
When he finally recovered from his fit of snickers, he said, "Lyle, it was only a deer." I glared at him angrily, but that just added fuel to his mocking. "C'mon, Lyle," he exclaimed, "It was a damn deer. You're such a moron."
"Dude, shut your face." I said firmly.
"Hey, I'm just messing with you." He replied back, "But, seriously, you're scared of a deer. Hell, I'll bet that you probably covered your eyes when you watched Bambi. Hey, Lyle! Look, a little fawn is going to kill you."
Getting sick of his antics at this point, I punched him in the face. I didn't exactly want to (he was my best friend, after all), but he was getting a little too irritating. I was young, I was exhausted from school, and I was going on a wild goose chase for god-knew-what. And, adding the last stone to the pile of weight that had already been placed on me, I had lost my cool over a forest creature. If that wasn't enough, I was being ridiculed for it. Normally, his jokes wouldn't bother me, but I was under a lot of stress. So, in spite of myself, I snapped.
It turned out that it was an incredibly stupid move, and I knew that it would be. Charlie tended to get in these weird, manic trances when he fought. And, when that happened, there was no stopping him. He was in it until you lost. I referred to it as "being battle-drunk".
He punched me back, proceeding to laugh like a hyena as he did so. I hit him again, in response, but I immediately regretted it. Blood was dripping from his giant grin, as he clocked me in the stomach as hard as he could, knocking me to the ground. Then, an idea came to me. I acted like I had passed out.
Freaking out like a little girl, Charlie desperately reached down to see if I was okay. Seizing the opportunity, I kicked him in the balls. Down he went, squealing like one of of those dog toys that make little noises when you squeeze them. I slowly got up, cackling like a mad man as I watched my best friend roll on the ground in pain.
"Lyle..." I heard him say between screams, "We're here."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked him, still chuckling.
"The thing that I wanted to show you... It's here," he said, "Look."
Thinking that this was some stupid game, I played along, and glanced around. Then, I saw it. Before me was a large tree. On it was carved a large circle, with an 'X' in the middle. I stared at it, for a moment, in disbelief. Then, I turned to him. "So...?" I asked, "It was probably just some teenager being a smart-ass."
"That would make sense," Charlie said, getting up, "but this snow is two days old. Besides deer tracks, the only footprints are mine and yours. I came here, the other day ago, and this wasn't here. Yesterday, it was. That means that someone, or something came here, about an hour or two before I did, and carved that without leaving tracks. And animals don't carve like that."
"The only logical scenario, then, is that you did it to mess with me."
"Admittedly, That is something that I'd do. But would I do that?" He pointed to something a few feet back, in the bushes. Not knowing what he was talking about, I went over to investigate. I didn't see anything, at first, but after I walked a bit farther, I saw it. In the bushes was a little boy of about the age of five. His chest was ripped open, and he was covered with blood.
A couple of blocks later, I arrived. I opened the door, briefly waved at his folks, and walked up the stairs to his room. I found him sitting on his bed. "Alright, I'm here." I said, "What was it that you wanted to show me?"
"You'll see," he said, "Just come with me." It was a slightly annoying response, but I didn't comment on it. I knew that he'd just roll his eyes at me, anyway. So, I followed him out the door.
We walked about a mile before we came to some random forest on the edge of town. I'd probably gone there about a thousand times before. Frankly, I saw nothing special about it, and I wondered why he had brought me there. So I asked him.
"This is what you wanted to show me‽" I yelled.
"Shut up for a second, will ya?" He asked me, giving me a playful shove. "You'll see it in a minute."
As We went deeper into the forest, I looked around. Despite the fact that it was mid spring, many of the trees were still barren of leaves, and it had snowed recently. That was a bit unusual, but it wasn't awe-inspiring. What could he possibly have had to show me?
I kept looking, but there was still nothing. I was beginning to want to go back, but I kept going, just in case Charlie wasn't just screwing with me. Just then, I head a rustling in the bushes. I didn't think much of it, at first, but it kept going; a persistent rattling noise. I felt my heart beating faster.
Then, something ran out from the shrubbery, and leapt in front of me. I barely had a chance to look at it, before I dived for the ground, shouting at full capacity. When I got up, I was breathing heavily. Charlie was laughing hysterically for some reason. "What?" I asked him.
When he finally recovered from his fit of snickers, he said, "Lyle, it was only a deer." I glared at him angrily, but that just added fuel to his mocking. "C'mon, Lyle," he exclaimed, "It was a damn deer. You're such a moron."
"Dude, shut your face." I said firmly.
"Hey, I'm just messing with you." He replied back, "But, seriously, you're scared of a deer. Hell, I'll bet that you probably covered your eyes when you watched Bambi. Hey, Lyle! Look, a little fawn is going to kill you."
Getting sick of his antics at this point, I punched him in the face. I didn't exactly want to (he was my best friend, after all), but he was getting a little too irritating. I was young, I was exhausted from school, and I was going on a wild goose chase for god-knew-what. And, adding the last stone to the pile of weight that had already been placed on me, I had lost my cool over a forest creature. If that wasn't enough, I was being ridiculed for it. Normally, his jokes wouldn't bother me, but I was under a lot of stress. So, in spite of myself, I snapped.
It turned out that it was an incredibly stupid move, and I knew that it would be. Charlie tended to get in these weird, manic trances when he fought. And, when that happened, there was no stopping him. He was in it until you lost. I referred to it as "being battle-drunk".
He punched me back, proceeding to laugh like a hyena as he did so. I hit him again, in response, but I immediately regretted it. Blood was dripping from his giant grin, as he clocked me in the stomach as hard as he could, knocking me to the ground. Then, an idea came to me. I acted like I had passed out.
Freaking out like a little girl, Charlie desperately reached down to see if I was okay. Seizing the opportunity, I kicked him in the balls. Down he went, squealing like one of of those dog toys that make little noises when you squeeze them. I slowly got up, cackling like a mad man as I watched my best friend roll on the ground in pain.
"Lyle..." I heard him say between screams, "We're here."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked him, still chuckling.
"The thing that I wanted to show you... It's here," he said, "Look."
Thinking that this was some stupid game, I played along, and glanced around. Then, I saw it. Before me was a large tree. On it was carved a large circle, with an 'X' in the middle. I stared at it, for a moment, in disbelief. Then, I turned to him. "So...?" I asked, "It was probably just some teenager being a smart-ass."
"That would make sense," Charlie said, getting up, "but this snow is two days old. Besides deer tracks, the only footprints are mine and yours. I came here, the other day ago, and this wasn't here. Yesterday, it was. That means that someone, or something came here, about an hour or two before I did, and carved that without leaving tracks. And animals don't carve like that."
"The only logical scenario, then, is that you did it to mess with me."
"Admittedly, That is something that I'd do. But would I do that?" He pointed to something a few feet back, in the bushes. Not knowing what he was talking about, I went over to investigate. I didn't see anything, at first, but after I walked a bit farther, I saw it. In the bushes was a little boy of about the age of five. His chest was ripped open, and he was covered with blood.
Part One (April 14, 1972)
Hello. My name is Lyle Johnson. Years ago, I had an experience that has haunted me ever since. I created this blog, to explain what happened to me, and to help others avoid my fate. Although this is a blog, and all entries will be reported in 2012 time, the following events took place in 1972. To avoid confusion, I will title each entry as "Part [insert number here]", followed by the approximate date of the occurrence in parentheses. With that, I will begin.
I lived in a suburb of Seattle, in a small apartment with my parents. I was ten-years-old at the time. At about 3 PM on the day in question, I had just gotten home from school. From the moment that I got home, I immediately rushed into my room to finish all of my homework. It sounds a bit nerdy, or whatever, but level with me a bit. It was a Friday, which obviously meant that I wanted to go outside and hang out with my best bud, Charlie. But my folks were pretty strict, so I had to get all of my work done before doing anything, regardless of when it was due. Therefore, I wanted to get it out of the way as soon as I could.
After about an hour of doing things that I found to have absolutely no use in "real life", I was finally out the door. I told Ma and Pa that I was going to Charlie's. They just nodded. Our parents were relatively okay with the fact that we always hung out at each other's house, by now. They were so used to it, in fact, that I didn't even have to ask. As long as I told them where I was going, they didn't care. It was probably the only thing that they weren't strict about.
Anyway, there I went, headed over to Charlie's.
I lived in a suburb of Seattle, in a small apartment with my parents. I was ten-years-old at the time. At about 3 PM on the day in question, I had just gotten home from school. From the moment that I got home, I immediately rushed into my room to finish all of my homework. It sounds a bit nerdy, or whatever, but level with me a bit. It was a Friday, which obviously meant that I wanted to go outside and hang out with my best bud, Charlie. But my folks were pretty strict, so I had to get all of my work done before doing anything, regardless of when it was due. Therefore, I wanted to get it out of the way as soon as I could.
After about an hour of doing things that I found to have absolutely no use in "real life", I was finally out the door. I told Ma and Pa that I was going to Charlie's. They just nodded. Our parents were relatively okay with the fact that we always hung out at each other's house, by now. They were so used to it, in fact, that I didn't even have to ask. As long as I told them where I was going, they didn't care. It was probably the only thing that they weren't strict about.
Anyway, there I went, headed over to Charlie's.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)