There’s Something That Haunts My Hometown, And I’m Terrified What Will Happen If They Ever Find Me

They would click and click and click. One time They knocked. I will never forget that sound: a polite knock from a friendly neighbor, in the form of a warhammer beating on a steel plate. The sound echoed, and the plate was dented. We had to have it replaced. Then there came more clicks, and finally we heard them sliding up the chimney again. Whoever had managed to not drop their weapon would continue shakily aiming it at the fireplace until dawn.

Another time, we heard Them upstairs. They got in. I mean, they didn’t get in. They couldn’t have, or I wouldn’t be here writing this. We checked the locks in the morning, and we hadn’t forgotten a single one. But we heard Them. We heard Their footsteps in the room above ours – my bedroom – walking very slowly, stepping on every creaking floorboard. We think They did it on purpose. They wanted us to know They were there.

My father was brave enough to get up and lock the living room door, but then he came to us and we all huddled together, crying as quietly as we could as They creaked their way downstairs and came to the door. Then they started scratching it. Not like an animal. Not with claws. They just scratched it very lightly.

Scrrr. Scrrrr. Scrrrrrrrrrr.