For as long as I could remember I’d had a fascination with the supernatural. My earliest memory in fact was the origin of this obsession. I was 6 at the time, my parents had died just a few weeks before so I have no concrete memories of them, even this memory is hazy. Actually I don’t even remember how long my parents had been dead by this point, or really any concrete details. All I have to go on are feelings, strong feelings, I couldn’t even be certain how much of it was real and how much was heightened by my overimaginitive young brain.

The things I know for sure are that I was that me and my brother were at the Douglas’ house while Aunt Catherine was doing… something related to the funeral I think? Those first weeks after our parents were a mess. Aunt Catherine suddenly had to figure out permanent accommodations for the three of us, help organize the funeral AND keep up as normal at her job. A lot of the time she asked other parents at the homeschool group to babysit us while she was busy. This was actually how I met my best friend, Laura Douglas.

Anyway Mr. and Mrs. Douglas mostly left us and their kids alone. Laura was 7 and Hayden, her brother was 9, making him the oldest of the group. We played Super Smash Bros or something and then decided to run around the back yard playing some game we made up. As I said I’m fuzzy on the details. What I do remember vividly is a moment where I was alone with Hayden. Even at nine Hayden was creepy, his edgelord phase already setting in. For some reason he thought it would be funny to tell me that he saw my parents’ ghosts in the basement of his house. Of course he dared me to go look, and I did. I walked down to that basement, each stair I descended felt like I was dropping a mile underground. I looked around, found nothing, yet somehow never put together that Hayden was trying to mess with me, so I kept going. I looked in every shelf, every corner, inspected every box, still nothing. Until I heard something drop out of no where. I jumped but I didn’t scream. I turned around, a shoebox had fallen off its place at the top of a shelf, seemingly all by itself. I got down on my hands and knees and uncovered the box, it was filled with antique coins and art supplies, both of which reflected my mom and dad’s hobbies respectively. This convinced me I was onto something. My parents were down here somewhere. I searched in that basement for what felt like an eternity, looking for another sign, anything, but nothing else appeared.

When Mrs. Douglas and Grayson finally found me down there I was crying. I told them what happened, though the more fantastical elements they obviously chalked up to overactive imagination combined with grief they took it very seriously. The parents scolded Hayden for scaring me but I don’t know if they did anything else after we left. They called my Aunt and she rushed over to pick us up. She was fuming when she got there. The Douglas parents apologized and made Hayden apologize too (one of those obviously fake and insincere apologies) but it took years until Aunt Catherine allowed us over there without her supervision again.

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I guess ever since that day I’d been looking for something, anything that would prove that I’d actually seen what I’d seen that day, prove that I wasn’t crazy. My brother and Aunt never said it but I could see the doubt in their eyes whenever I talked about this. This was why Leigh LeBlanc was the only person I truly felt like I related to, even though I’d never actually met them, there was no other sane person who shared my belief in the supernatural. And now after years of searching and bogus hoaxes, I’d finally found my proof.

Yep, that proof was chasing after me down the street right then. A slender freaky humanoid with long limbs it used to persue after me on all fours. Inconvenient, but in retrospect it’s surprising I never thought about the possibility. I was running for my life from a monster and more than anything I felt like laughing about the absurdity of it.

I ran back the way I came away from the church. The thing was fast but I still managed to keep ahead of it. Not to brag but I was probably the fastest thing alive in Peachtree Neighborhood. I knew I could make it back to the house before this thing ate me. I was more concerned about my brother, I’d shouted twice at him but he didn’t seem to hear me? What a dumbass. If we both survive I’ll make him get a hearing test.

I finally get to the house, hastily unlock the door, get in, slam it shut, and lock it back, within the span of a minute. Good thing since I was actually about to give out. Scratch that, a new problem immediately presents itself. The thing starts scratching on the door. Not like “your cat really wants in your room right now” scratching, more like slowly shredding the wood on your door. What do you do in this kind of situation? I could call the cops but A. They would think I’m insane and B. They wouldn’t get here in time. I had to do something right then. First I pushed a bookshelf in front of the door, though to be honest it probably didn’t buy me any time for as long as it took to do.

Second, I uh, stared at the door attempting to figure out what to do. I stared for what felt like eternity until I realized I couldn’t hear scratching anymore. Maybe it just stopped for a second I thought, but nope, a minute passed and still nothing. I looked out the window to confirm, sure enough it wasn’t on the porch anymore. And oh look there’s my brother, running down the street. Took him long enough, except now that thing was running towards him?

Grayson finally saw and turned back the other way, too late, I knew he wouldn’t be able to outrun as close as it was now. He was only saved by a sudden spike flying out of nowhere killing the demon. I breathed a sigh of relief. I pushed the bookcase back out of the way and rushed to meet him, my big dummy of a brother, and make sure he was okay. As I got closer I noticed he wasn’t looking at me, but at something down the street, which came into focus the closer I got.

The mysterious green haired woman