The Greenhouse

As a kid, there was no time I looked more forward to than summer.

It meant no school, of course, but it also meant going back to my home village.

I grew up there, but once I got into second grade, my parents moved to the city. I didn’t hate it, but it was so different.

For a kid, a village is a fantastic place. The vast grassy plains, the deep forests, the mountains, and of course the cornfields. It was a whole different world.

Each year we spent the warm summer month there. My parents had of course sold our old home but now owned a small cabin nearby.

I was always excited to go back and couldn’t wait to hear about all the things that had happened. In a city, change is ever-present. In a village, however, even the small things really mattered.

Well, what I want to say is, that those summers were special to me. That is, until I was in sixth grade. That year everything changed.

Once we’d arrived and settled in, I set out on my bike to meet up with my two best friends Mark and Tom. I couldn’t wait to hear all the stories.

I found them at the soccer field, as always. After we’d greeted each other, I started to ask them right away what I’d missed.

There was the crazy bull at old Werner’s farm that had caused a whole lot of trouble. Miss Richter had burned down half her house due to a faulty fuse. And I’d missed the big soccer match between all the sixth and seventh graders.

I’d just passed the ball to Tom when he stopped and turned to me.

“Oh yeah, there was that terrible thunderstorm a couple weeks ago. It even damaged that old man’s greenhouse!”

“What old man?”

“The evil old man!” Mark chimed in.

I looked from one to the other.

“Wait, who are you guys talking about?”

“That rich old dude who moved here,” Tom began. “He built this giant mansion!” He put all his emphasis on the word giant and held out his arms to show just how big it was.

“Yeah, but the greenhouse is even bigger,” Mark exclaimed.

“Mansion, greenhouse?”

The two of them nodded as if that was enough to explain it.

“You should’ve seen the constructions! They had all those cranes and bulldozers! They were so huge!” Tom held his arms out again. He always did that.

Mark next to him, nodded in excitement. “It took months!”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t get what the big deal was. I saw cranes and bulldozers every day on my way to school.

“Why’s he evil?” I asked, suddenly remembering Mark’s remark.

They both eyed me and got closer, answering me in hushed voices.

“It’s because he’s hiding something! Ever since his greenhouse was damaged, he’s sneaking around the place. He’s keeping watch all day every day.” Mark started.

“Yeah and Christopher Siegert said the old man’s performing weird rituals inside the greenhouse. He said he saw it from one of the broken glass panes!” Tom went on.

I listened as they rambled on, but I didn’t understand half of it. Christopher Siegert? Broken glass panes?

“My parents said they heard weird things and screams inside one night,” Mark said, turning to Tom.

“Yeah and those dark cars that go there, they must be secret agents or something!” Tom replied.

“Guys! Hold on! Slow down! I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about!” I cut them both off.

For a second, they both stared at me as if they’d forgotten that I was even there.

Tom’s face lit up in an instant. “You want to go see it?”

Moments later, we were on our way to a small hill in the center of the village. It was there that I first saw the mansion and the greenhouse next to it. I could also see a scaffold on one side of it. On the way, they reiterated all the stories and urban legends. There were probably as many as people lived in the village.

The mansion itself was a big, fancy place, but it was nothing compared to the massive greenhouse next to it.

“See, I told you! You can’t see anything!” Mark exclaimed.

“Yeah fine, whatever,” I said, annoyed.

I had questioned them over and over again what was really going on inside. All they said was that no one was able to look inside. I hadn’t believed them. I was sure it was nothing but a dumb trick to surprise me. Now I saw that they were right. The glass was milky and blurred, making it impossible to see anything.

“So no one has any idea what’s inside?”

They both nodded.

“I bet it’s dinosaurs,” someone called out from behind.

The moment I turned around, I saw Erik, one of the younger kids in the village. His friend Rick was right behind him, as always.

“Don’t be stupid, Erik, the dinosaurs are all dead,” Mark said to the little boy with a smile on his face.

“Maybe they are doing some sort of genetic experiment,” Rick mumbled more to himself than to us.

“Yeah right, idiot,” Tom yelled at him. Rick was quiet in an instant. He shuffled around awkwardly and stared at his feet. It was no secret that no one except Erik liked him.

“I bet it’s his personal zoo and he’s keeping tigers, lions, and rhinos in there!” Tom went on.

The others all stared at him, excited at prospect of having a zoo in the village.

“Maybe it’s just a dumb old greenhouse? We’ve got something like that-“

“There’s no way!” Tom yelled at me and stared me down as if I’d insulted him.

“Why can’t we see inside then?” Mark stepped up to me and questioned me.

I raised my hands to calm them down.

“Alright, alright, sorry guys, but why has no taken a look or asked him about it?”

“You can’t do that!” Erik exclaimed.

“We told you he’s evil!” Mark called out. “He’s creepy and always trying to do something to us if we get too close! Especially now, since the storm damaged some of the glass panes!”

As I listened to Mark, I let my eyes wander over the mansion and the greenhouse below. I could also make out a scaffold on one side, most likely erected to repair the damage they’d told me about. We were still so far away from it though.

“Why can’t we get closer?”

“We’d get beaten up like Phillip Müller!” Tom said.

“Who’s that now?”

“He’s from the next village over. He heard about the broke panes right after it happened and tried to sneak in.”

“Did he make it?” I asked.

Tom shook his head.

“He was beaten up by the old man real bad,” little Erik started. “I heard he can’t ever walk again.”

“Shut up, Erik,” Mark yelled at him.

“It’s true!” Erik protested. “I heard he beat the living hell out of him and chased him all the way to the cornfields!”

“Oh yeah? If he couldn’t walk anymore, how was he able to get to the cornfields?” Mark asked, smiling at him triumphantly.

“I don’t know, but it’s true Mark,” Erik said in a low voice.

“I heard it too,” Rick started, but one look by Mark shut him up right away again.

“You’re all exaggerating,” I interrupted their argument.

“He’s always watching though,” Tom said while he looked down at the mansion. “I bet he’s looking up at us even now!”

“I always take the long way home now, so I don’t have to drive by his place anymore,” Erik admitted. He was obviously a bit embarrassed about the fact.

“That’s because you’re a baby,” Mark said, laughing.

The two of them never got along. Mark was the type who enjoyed to make fun of younger kids. I liked him a lot, but at times he gave Erik a bit too tough a time.

“He really is scary though,” Tom said, while he still watched the mansion apprehensively. The rest soon agreed.

After a while, we left the hill and went back to the soccer field. As much as I tried to convince them to sneak up on the place, they all seemed to be truly scared of the old man.

It was in the early evening that I decided to head towards the place on my own. The mansion had been built on a vast empty plain next to the road connecting the lower and upper part of the village. It was this road that Erik had talked about before.

As I drove up to the mansion, I was still sure they were all exaggerating. I was surprised, though when I noticed an older man watching me from a bench at the edge of his property. The moment I stopped to look around he got up and took a few steps towards me. He stared me down with an angry expression on his face.

“Get the hell out of here, kid,” he yelled over at me,” or do I have to make you?”

With that, he started to walk towards me with hard, quick steps. I thought about trying my luck, but his eyes and the expression on his face made me drive off after all.

In the next couple of days, we often saw the old man. Whenever we drove by his place, he’d yell at us from afar to get a move on. At one point, we could even see a giant, angry dog by his side. The beast started to bark like crazy the moment it saw us. Some of the others drove faster, yelling at me that he was about to let the dog go.

A few days later, we were building a small hideout in the woods. It wasn’t long before I started to talk about sneaking up on the greenhouse again.

“There’s no way,” Tom said while he was trying to break a thick branch of a tree.

“You saw his dog didn’t you?”

“I know, but maybe if we sneak up from behind and-“

“He’s going to get you,” Tom cut me off right away.

Mark didn’t say anything. He was busy going through a toolbox from his dad’s workshop.

“He can’t watch all the time, guys!” I tried once more.

“But he does,” Tom said while pushing his whole weight against the branch.

“Why’s this not coming off,” he yelled and started to kick against it. “You stupid piece of a,” he went on.

“No way, I’m pretty sure I can make it!” I said in an optimistic voice. “Back in the city, I-“

“Shut up,” Mark yelled at me while still looking over his tools. “Don’t talk about the old dude all the time, it’s getting annoying.”

“It’s only annoying because you’re afraid of him,” I yelled back.

“So what?” Mark got up, giving me the stink eye.

“You’ve only been here for a few days! He’s been yelling at us constantly for weeks! He even chased me with that dog of his! It almost got me this one time, you know?”

I murmured an apology.

“I just want to know what’s inside,” I said in a low voice.

“We all want to know, but we tried everything!” Tom exclaimed. “There’s no way we can get any closer!”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” I said.

They all gave me a hopeless look but left it at that.

Next morning I decided to prove that I meant what I’d said.

I decided to sneak up on the place on my own. It would be easy as pie, I told myself. First I’d get close to the greenhouse. Once there, I’d rush towards the scaffold, hide behind the tarpaulin surrounding it and sneak inside.

I believed everyone’s stories, of course, and I’d seen that giant dog. Still, I was confident that the old man wouldn’t be able to catch me. I was a fast kid.

I set out on foot right after breakfast. I didn’t follow the road towards the mansion. Instead, I made my way through the grass directly into the direction of his greenhouse. That way, the massive glass construction, and the high grass would both hide me from his view.

Everything went well, and I was soon only meters away from the greenhouse.

The moment I got up and was about to hurry towards the scaffold though I heard something. It was the loud barking of a dog nearby. I’d barely taken a few steps when I saw the old man coming towards me with his dog on a leash.

“Don’t even think about running, boy.”

I froze.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he demanded.

“I’m just-“

“Shut up, boy! I’ve seen you around, believe me! You’re not one of the local boys, are you?”

I stayed quiet. All I could do was to stare at the angry dog by his side and its bared teeth.

“I asked you a goddamn question!” he screamed at me and took a few steps closer. The dog at his side started to growl in anticipation and struggled against the leash holding it back.

I tried to speak, but couldn’t. Fear welled up in me, and I had to take a few short breaths before I was able to answer.

“I’m staying at a cabin,” I brought out in a low, shaky voice. “I’m not here to cause any trouble, sir,” I added quickly, “I was just trying-“

I didn’t get to finish the sentence as the old man suddenly gave the dog more leash. The giant beast came rushing towards me, jaws wide open and saliva flying from its mouth.

I stumbled back a step but lost my footing and fell to the ground. With each passing moment, the beast came closer. I could already see, could already feel the jaws closing around my arm or leg. I screamed up as the animal lounged itself forward and felt something wet and hot between my legs. Just before the beast was upon me, the old man jerked the leash backward, and it came to a stop only inches away from me.

I sat on the ground, shaking, crying, not able to move. The dog was still right in front of me, barking and growling. Its saliva sprayed onto my legs, and in a panic, I inched away from it.

“Get lost boy,” the old man screamed at me once more.

“Next time there’ll be no more leash!”

With that, he pulled the dog back to his side. He kept staring at me until I got up and started to walk away on shaky legs.

“Wouldn’t be the first boy that happened to,” he yelled after me laughing.

As an adult, I’m sure he’d only said it to scare me, but thirteen-year-old me totally believed him. I hurried straight back to our cabin.

For to whole day, I stayed holed up in there. I was so afraid, I didn’t even want to go outside. The image of the dog came back to me again and again. Even in my dreams, I was chased by the giant beast. Now I knew why Mark was so afraid.

It was three days after the encounter that I finally went out on my bike again. I was still a bit anxious, but I made my way to the soccer field.

“Wow, there he is,” I heard Tom exclaim when he saw me. “Where the hell have you been?”

For a moment I stayed quiet, but then I told them what had happened.

“See? We told you so,” Mark said.

He was the only one who didn’t seem to feel sorry for me. All because I’d disregarded his warning. At times I couldn’t stand his attitude.

“I bet it’s true. He probably got other kids before,” Erik said out loud.

“Yeah, I bet it is!” Tom agreed.

“Yeah, but I’m not giving up,” I said finally.

The others looked at me in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Do you want to get killed for real?” It was Mark who seemed to be seriously angry now.

“I have to find out what’s in there,” I answered.

“Yeah but the old dude is going to get you for real this time,” Tom said.

“There has to be a way to trick him,” I protested.

“You’re going to get eaten by his dog,” Erik chimed in as well.

“Oh yeah? He can’t watch the place all day, can he?”

“But he’s always out there, you know that!” It was Mark who didn’t seem to let it go.

“I know Mark, but if he’s out there all day, then what about the night?”

The others looked at me, puzzled.

“What do you mean?” Tom asked.

“I mean is he out there at night, too?”

“I’m sure he is!”

“How’d you know, Mark? Have you ever been there at night?”

“Of course not, why’d I do that?”

“See?”

“He’s probably doing worse things at night,” Erik said in a low voice.

“Shut up, Erik!”

“Stop it, Mark, don’t be mean to him!” I intervened

“Maybe he’s letting the dinosaurs he keeps inside roam around the house,” Erik continued.

“That’s stupid!”

Mark didn’t leave Erik be. I honestly had no idea what sort of problem he had with the little boy.

“He has to sleep though,” I went on.

“You don’t know that! Maybe he doesn’t sleep,” Tom cut in.

“What? No, everyone has to sleep. Also, he won’t be able to see us during the night,” I continued. “We’d probably be able to sneak up way easier in the dark.”

“And get eaten by his dog?”

“Shut up, Mark, you’re annoying,” I yelled at him, fed up with his constant interruptions.

“Whatever.”

“I really want to know what’s inside,” Tom finally said.

I nodded. Soon enough Tom said he’d come along if I went back there during the night. The moment the two of us started to make plans, Mark grudgingly agreed as well, if only to see what would happen to us. Convincing Erik was even easier. The little boy seemed to be the most excited out of all of us.

We spent a lot of days planning our nightly approach. In the end, it wasn’t just me, Tom, Mark and Erik. The little boy had talked about our plans with Rick, who wanted to tag along as well.

We were all furious. When Rick arrived one day, to learn more about our plan, we told him to get lost. The problem was, however, that he said he’d tell on us if we didn’t allow him to join in. So in the end, there wasn’t much we could do.

We’d decided on a Thursday night. We reasoned that the old man might stay up late on the weekends, so we probably had a better chance on a weekday.

Getting out at night wasn’t tough for me. I’d done it countless times before to explore the village and the cornfields at night. My parents had never found out a thing.

My friends simply told their parents they were staying over at each other’s places. I was surprised that this thing even worked.

“Eagle four has arrived,” I said in a low voice when I met up with Tom and Mark. They gave me a prearranged hand sign to show that they’d noticed me.

We’d decided to meet up at the edge of the village sometime after midnight.

I was really surprised to see Erik. He was a good two years younger than us, so I’d had my doubts that he’d be able to sneak out by himself. He was a crafty little guy.

The last one to arrive was Rick, a solid quarter hour after everyone else. To be honest, I was more annoyed that he actually came and not the fact that he was late.

We planned to set out on foot in two different teams and meet up in the grassy plain near the greenhouse. One group consisted of Mark and Tom. I was stuck with Erik and Rick.

We felt like spies or secret agents as we sneaked around corners and rushed from one building to the next. We robbed through the grass and hid between bushes and behind trees as we went on our way. I’m sure we must have looked absolutely ridiculous. I guess it was pure dumb luck that no one saw us. I’m pretty sure we’d have been safer if we’d just walked down the street the regular way.

Everyone was nervous and scared but also excited beyond belief.

The only one who didn’t seem to care was Rick. He was annoying and whined about having to sneak around constantly. I had to tell him multiple times to be quiet, but he’d just start complaining again after a while.

When we finally arrived near the mansion, Tom and Mark were already there, waiting for us.

“What took you so long,” Mark asked in a hushed whisper.

I only took a sideways glance at Rick, and he knew.

“Well it’s not my fault,” Rick complained, not to bother lowering his voice at all.

We all looked up in shock, and for a moment, we were all sure the old man must have heard us.

“Quiet,” I hushed him. “He’ll find us!”

Rick was going to complain again, but then Mark went up to him and pushed him to the ground. He didn’t say a word and simply stared down at him in anger.

This time Rick seemed to finally get the message. I looked at the mansion. The windows were still dark, and everything was completely and utterly quiet.

There was also no sign of the giant dog anywhere. We waited for another couple of minutes, listening for any and all sounds.

When nothing happened, I finally made the hand sign for ‘Clear,’ and we carefully inched closer.

As we made our way through the high grass, we were all serious. Everyone, even Rick, tried to be as quiet as possible.

One wrong noise could mean that the old man came for us with his dog. We had no idea what he might do if he found us out here in the middle of the night.

We inched forward one by one, each taking only a step at a time. It was a slow process. Every noise we heard made us freeze in fear.

Finally we’d all made it and were next to the greenhouse. It really was massive. It must’ve been at least twenty meters wide and probably twice as long.

By now we had to be quick. We might have been hidden from gazes inside the mansion, but we weren’t protected by the darkness anymore. Even long past midnight, the lights inside of the greenhouse were still glowing.

We hurried towards the damaged area, and moments later, we vanished below the scaffold’s tarpaulin.

Here we could see the damaged glass panes and the repairs that were being carried out. We’d never even considered that the repairs might already have been finished. It was pure luck that two of the large glass panes were still missing. The hole was covered by another thick layer of tarpaulin. It was stretched over the metal framing to keep the greenhouse closed off.

We tried to pull it off, but it seemed to be connected to the metal framing. Whatever we tried, there was no way to pull it off.

“What do we do now?” I whispered.

Everyone shrugged, a dire look on their faces. Except for Mark, who grinned. Within moments he pulled out a pocket knife and went forward.

He rammed the knife into the heavy fabric and started to pull it downwards. It was though and took him almost a minute, but finally, there was a hole big enough for us to enter.

The inside of the greenhouse was absolutely astonishing. In an instant, the darkness of the night was replaced, and we found ourselves in a tropical jungle.

The heat inside was almost unbearable. It had to be far above thirty degrees Celsius, and the air was heavy with moisture.

For what had to be minutes, we just stood there, looking at the lush vegetation all around us. Tropical trees rose high into the air, while thick vines entangled them. The ground was a mixture of various underbrush and strange exotic flowers.

Suddenly we heard a rustling in front of us. I cringed back instinctively, expecting a tiger, panther or hell, even a freaking dinosaur to jump us. Instead, it was a small animal, looking like a chipmunk or squirrel that rushed away as quickly as it saw us. I laughed a little, as relief flushed over me.

As we finally started walking again, it seemed as if the whole place was alive. There were many different birds in here, some were parrots, others were birds of paradise.

“Do you think there are any real dinosaurs in here?” Erik asked, excitedly.

No one was able to answer him. We were all too overwhelmed by this new, completely different world all around us. Secretly though, I think we all hoped to actually see a real dinosaur. Even if no one wanted to admit it.

As we started to explore, we soon found a little stream and right next to it a small path. It seemed to lead us through the whole place in a circle.

“Did you see anything other than birds and squirrels?” Mark asked me.

I shook my head.

“Let’s keep searching,” Tom said.

With that, we continued and followed the small path. For a while, we were still careful and tried to stay hidden between bushes and behind trees. Soon enough though, we realized there was no danger here. As we started on our second round through the place, we’d seen nothing but birds and other small animals.

“This is so boring,” Rick started to complain again.

He went over to a set of stones placed next to the path and sat down right there in the open. After a little while, Erik followed him and soon enough, Mark and I joined them. Tom was still on his way, exploring.

I was quite disappointed, to be honest. The place was amazing, no doubt, but my initial astonishment was long gone. I’d looked for an adventure, for hidden secrets and I hate to admit it, dinosaurs. As beautiful as the place was, it was plain boring.

“There has to be something here,” Mark started after a while, “otherwise he wouldn’t keep watch all the time!”

“Maybe he just enjoys scaring people?” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

“What do we do now?” Erik asked.

“I’m going to go home,” Rick mumbled and got up.

Before he’d barely taken a few steps, Tom came back to us.

“You guys, you guys, I found something!”

“Is it a dinosaur?” Erik called out.

“A tiger?” Mark pipped up.

“Some sort of secret hideout?” I asked, as well.

We were all excited again. Tom seemed to be a little embarrassed by all the attention he was getting.

“Well no, but there’s some sort of building over there.”

As we moved forward, we had to fight through the underbrush to make it to the center of the greenhouse. It was there that Tom had found the building. By now, we were all happily chatting with each other. The danger the place had held had evaporated entirely, and the old man had all but vanished from our minds.

“A building sounds dumb,” Rick continued to whine.

It was at this point that Mark stopped and stared at him. “Will you shut up for once!?” he yelled at him. Rick stopped talking right away and did his best to look away from Mark.

“Is that it?” I asked Tom when I saw a rectangular concrete block in front of us. Tom simply nodded.

I was disappointed once more. I’d hoped it might be some sort of secret hideout, but it seemed to be nothing but a giant concrete block. It didn’t even have a door or windows. The only visible thing was some sort of console on one side.

Maybe it was nothing but the freaking generator that powered this place. I’d seen similar things in the city.

I was about to step forward to take a closer look at the console when I heard something. It was a door opening and then falling shut again. We knew instantly what this meant.

“He’s coming for us,” Erik blurted out before he covered his mouth in shock.

As quickly as we could, we hid between the various plants and bushes, hoping he wouldn’t find us.

I knew there could only be one reason for him to be here in the middle of the night. He knew we’d sneaked inside.

With each passing second, I anticipated to see him with that giant dog and letting the beast go to get each one of us. For a moment, the memory of the dog’s fangs returned, and I started shaking in sheer panic.

Was this why he’d created this place? To lure us kids here to hunt us down?

I listened, breathing heavily as the echo of his footsteps came closer and closer. My heart beat heavy inside my chest. I desperately told myself to calm down, afraid that my heartbeat alone could give me away.

The moment I saw him though, all those thoughts vanished into thin air.

There was no hint of the dog. Instead, he was all by himself. That wasn’t all though. His attire was completely different and utterly strange. He wasn’t wearing his usual clothes but wore a sort of lab coat. In his hands, he held a variety of weird items: syringes, surgical tools, and other things. What made the whole thing even stranger, was that the old man was smiling.

Without even looking around or searching for us, he stepped up to the concrete building. It was clear to me in an instant that he wasn’t here because of us. He probably had no idea we were here at all. So, what then was he doing out here?

My question was answered when he stepped up to the console on its side. He put down the assortment of items and tools he’d brought and took out a key. He inserted it at the console, then seemed to press a few of the buttons.

A second later, one of the walls of the building vanished in the ground, revealing three big holding cells. No, I realized, cages. I watched with wide eyes.

He stepped up to the first of them and took out a small device. He pressed down on it, and moments later, the cage opened.

His face started to be distorted by an unnaturally wide grin, and he was beaming with happiness.

“Oh my dear, it’s been quite a while, hasn’t it? You must’ve been so, so lonely,” he said in a voice filled with pure excitement and not just a bit of malice.

I leaned forward in anticipation to see what was inside the cage. Then we all heard the sounds.

At first, it was nothing but a moaning, but it soon changed to a sort of low scream. I could hear something moving and soon the clatter of metal. I was both scared and almost as excited as the old man.

“Now then, why don’t you come outside? Or do I have to… make you?” he called towards the cage.

It wasn’t long before something stepped outside.

I don’t know why or how, but I knew instantly that the creature was no normal animal. Something was completely wrong with it. Its shoulders, upper arms, and legs were covered in fur, the rest, however, was hairless. For a moment, it reminded me of a human being, but there were too many things wrong with it to justify such a comparison.

As the thing moved, I saw that its arms and legs were weirdly twisted, as if the joints were put together the wrong way round. The body looked scrawny, yet muscular. The worst, however, was the things face. There was no visible nose. The mouth was nothing but a dark, empty hole with no discernible teeth. The eyes were deep-sitting, bloodshot, and endlessly tired. A deep sadness seemed to emanate from it.

The closest way to describe the creature would be to call it a deformed, mostly hairless ape.

As the creature stepped towards the old man, I saw the shackles around its legs and the chains connected to them. I saw dried blood around its ankles. Once more, it made a sound that could’ve almost been called human. I got shivers all over my body when I heard it. The creature dragged itself forward, moving slowly. A moment later, however, it rushed the old man. I already saw it jumping him, but then it was yanked back by the chains and stopped a meter in front of him.

For a moment, the smile on the old man’s face vanished. It was replaced by his oh so common expression of pure anger. Then the smile returned, but this time, it was different. There was no happiness in it. There was only pure malice.

Once more, he took out the small device I’d seen and he pressed down on it again. The creature screamed up in pain and started twitching and writhing.

“One would’ve thought you’d learned by now, my dear,” he said, laughing. The way he said the last word made me feel sick to my stomach. He stepped up closer to the creature, putting his foot on its head. For a moment, he pressed down hard with a sardonic grin on his face. The thing opened its mouth, but all that escaped was a soft, painful moan.

“Well, that’s what you get for not behaving,” the old man continued before he took his foot away.

I saw the eyes of the creature look up at him. They were filled with anger, but they also seemed to be pleading with him. Another sound escaped the ravaged mouth. It was a long and dragged out scream. To this day, this sound was one of the creepiest and saddest things I’d ever heard. It was so close to that of a human, yet so different. I almost gasped when I heard it, but quickly covered my mouth.

Erik, who was only a few meters to my right, was too shocked to do so and a short, high-pitched scream escaped his mouth.

In a moment, the old man jerked around his face distorted by tremendous anger. When he saw the little boy trying to hide between the bushes, he was upon him in an instant.

“How dare you,” he pressed out, his face almost purple with anger. “You little shit!” he screamed at Erik. The little boy was too scared to run or do anything, and in a moment, the old man pulled him out in the open.

“What the hell are you doing here? How the hell did you get in?”

When Erik didn’t say a thing, the old man started beating and kicking him.

I watched, got up on shaky legs, but I didn’t know what to do. At this moment Mark of all people rushed forward. Soon after Tom and I followed him. Only Rick stayed back, not taking more than a few steps.

The old man’s expression turned to surprise when more kids came running towards me.

“Let go of him!” Mark screamed. Moments later we were all upon him, trying to pull him off, Erik. The old man was in such a rage now that he didn’t even seem to notice our efforts and continued to beat down on our friend. It must’ve taken us half a minute to push him off.

“Run away, Erik!” Mark screamed at the little boy, but Erik wasn’t moving. His little face was swollen and covered in bruises.

“Come on, Erik, get up,” I started as tears streamed down my face. When Tom and I tried to pull him up, his whole body felt wrong, and his head dangled in a weird angle.

Then, my friends, the old man I all looked up as the creature behind us screamed again. It was a scream of triumph and excitement. When I turned around and saw its mangled body from nearby, I realized that the creature had to be female.

Then I saw them, the shackles. They were lying on the ground next to the creature.

When the old man saw what had happened, his face changed to a visage of pure terror. He held up his hands but noticed he wasn’t holding the small device anymore. He must’ve dropped it when we charged him.

“Where the hell did it go goddamnit?!”

He was out of it. He fell to his knees, desperately searching and rummaging through the lower vegetation around him. A second later, he picked something up, but all the color drained from his face when he saw that the small device was completely crushed.

He didn’t get to lament or curse because right then the she-beast was upon him. A bloodcurdling scream cut through the air before the beast opened its mouth impossibly wide and closed it around the old man’s throat.

His face changed to sheer and utter terror as he started clawing at the thing, but his attempts were futile. The beast’s mouth might have been toothless, but its jaws pressed down harder and harder on the old man’s neck.

There was the disgusting wet sound of something breaking, following by a gurgling before his body grew limp.

The beast released the mushed neck and a moment later it raised its arms high into the air before it brought his fists down on the old man’s head.

I heard the crunching of bones and blood splattered all over the vegetation around. Over and over the thing beat down at the old man’s body.

When I could finally rip myself away from the sight, a new horror awaited me.

The other two cages had opened up as well when the device was destroyed.

Two more creatures emerged soon after. They were different, more deformed and horrible than the she-beast. Yet, they too showed the same similarities to human beings, but they were pitiful and nightmarish caricatures.

One’s body was so twisted that it had to crawl out, dragging its lower appendixes behind. One look at its head made me shudder. Where the face was supposed to be was nothing but scar tissue and a gaping maw.

The other creature was much larger and overtook the crawler in an instant. It was walking on its four appendixes. They were long and bony, while the rest of its body was thick and bloated. It gave the thing the appearance of a four-legged, humanoid spider.

Pure terror befell us when we saw the other creatures. Rick was the worst. He was in utter hysterics, screaming louder and louder as he rocked back and force on the forest floor.

Suddenly the she-beast stopped beating the remains of the old man, and in a moment she jumped towards Rick. The creature grabbed hold of his shoulders. It let out a bellowing scream before it started beating him in a sudden frenzy.

I stood there, unable to move at all. I saw the spider-beast tumbling towards me. For a moment, its empty eyes stared at me before it noticed Erik’s lifeless body. It went closer, and I saw its jaw unhinge. There was no sound of chewing or flesh tearing, it was devouring him whole.

It was Mark that finally took me out of my trance, as he crashed into me. He screamed at me, but it was all incoherent and made no sense. Then he started to pull me into the jungle around us, and soon we were both running.

I saw Tom next to us as well. Tears were streaming from my face. My vision was blurry, and I had no idea where I was going. I stumbled after them before I suddenly crashed right into the glass panes of the greenhouse.

We looked around, but there was no sign of the entrance anywhere. For all I knew we were completely trapped.

Suddenly another scream of the she-beast cut through the air. It was followed by the sounds of it tearing through the vegetation of the greenhouse. For a moment, I didn’t know what to do, but then in sheer desperation, I threw myself against the glass. Again and again, I did it, but it was much sturdier than I’d expected.

Then Tom threw a heavy stone against the glass. It didn’t break, but there was a small crack. Each one of us picked up whatever we could find close to us and threw it against the glass pane.

The sound of glass breaking was mixed with the sound of the she-beast bursting from the jungle behind us.

I threw myself forward. The sharp edges of the glass scrubbed along my arms, leaving long gushing cuts behind, but I didn’t even feel it. I was out first, followed back Mark.

“Tom! We’ve got to-” I started, but Tom’s screams cut me off. They lasted for no more than a few seconds.

Mark and I didn’t look back. We simply ran, and once we couldn’t run anymore, we stumbled forward until we were back in the village.

What happened next is nothing but a blur. The village erupted into chaos when they found us. We were both bloody from the glass, screaming and crying. We must’ve rambled on about the old man, the greenhouse, the monsters, and our friends.

When the police arrived, they found the corpses of the old man, Rick, and Tom, as well as one of the creatures inside the greenhouse. Erik’s body, however, was never found.

I spent the rest of summer either answering questions or at the office of a therapist.

Of course, they didn’t tell us anything, we were kids, after all.

The story itself made the local news, but it was quickly and discreetly swept under the carpet.

It was years later that I put the official story together from bits and pieces. The she-beast was deemed a female gorilla. Police caught it a few days after in a nearby forest and safely disposed of it. The other creature that they’d found in the greenhouse was an adolescent one, they said.

The old man must have acquired them illegally and kept them as pets in the greenhouse. The night we entered, the two animals got loose due to our fight with the old man and n the rampage that followed everyone but Mark and I was killed.

In the month after the event both the mansion and the greenhouse were locked form the public. Important people came and went before the place was stripped and eventually abandoned. It still stands even now, a grizzly reminder of what happened that night.

I needed therapy for years. Even now, my dreams are haunted by the creatures I saw that night. My therapist keeps reminding me that something like those creatures couldn’t exist. It had most likely been my fear that had transformed the gorillas into the nightmarish things I saw.

Here’s the thing, however. The official stories only ever talked about two of the creatures. The she-beast and the crawling one that died inside of the greenhouse.

The third one, the one that had devoured Erik’s body, was never mentioned.

For years I’ve looked up news about my home area. There are the occasional reports about livestock being killed and half devoured remains of animals. The official stories blame it on wolfs or other wild animals.

Yet, I can’t help but wonder. It’s been two decades, but what if that third thing is still out there even now.

Michael

I first met Michael during a supplementary lecture at university. I only attended it for a few easy credits. Michael, I would learn, was in the same boat as me.

Over the first two months, we bonded and eventually went on a date together.

He wasn’t exactly my type, to be honest. Usually, I liked the outgoing, conversational type. Michael, on the other hand, seemed to be a true introvert.

During the very first lecture, he sat at the end of the small lecture hall. He listened and didn’t interact with anyone.

It was only after a while that he warmed up to the rest of us. We exchanged a few sparse words, but we hit it off pretty well.

As time passed, I learned how similar our interests were. I loved photography and French literature and soon found out that he enjoyed both of these things as well. It was quite odd for an engineering major, but also intriguing.

It didn’t take long for us to become quite friendly, hanging out at the cafeteria after the lecture was over. Soon it became a bit more. We officially started our relationship after our second date.

Things were perfect, at least, for a while.

There was one thing that was quite off-putting about Michael, his jealousy. I wanted to hang out with friends? He’d asked if other guys were there if so he’d tag along. I was meeting up with other students to work on a project? Same thing.

Even after we talked about it, his attitude didn’t change much. Eventually, it turned into a big argument, and he promised to better himself.

I knew it should’ve been a major red flag, but I guess I was too enamored to see what was going on.

For a while, I believed in his promise. He didn’t seem to be bothered about me going out on my own anymore or at least, he hid his jealousy really well. Either way, I was happy about it.

That was until the night I went out with a group of high school friends. We had a few drinks at a bar and wanted to catch up on old times. After a while, a female friend pointed at a figure near the end of the bar. Apparently, someone had been watching me for a while.

The moment the guy glanced over again, I noticed him instantly. It was Michael. I walked up to him and flipped out. At first he tried to tell me it was all a coincidence, but in the end, he admitted he’d been following me around.

I didn’t talk to him for a week.

When I finally replied to his messages, he pleaded with me to give him another chance. I reluctantly agreed to meet up in person, and he admitted he went too far. It was all because he loved me so much he said.

Afterward, he took me out on a fantastic date, and I was dumb enough to forgive him. What can I say, I was a silly girl, and I was in love.

That was, until a few weeks later.

I’d stayed over at his place. In the morning he went out to get us some breakfast.

While I put on some coffee, I remembered that I needed to send an email to one of my professors.

I looked around for my phone, but of course, I couldn’t find it. I tend to be a bit of a scatterbrain when it comes to my phone, often forgetting where I put it. It didn’t help that Michael’s apartment was so damn big.

After searching for a while, I went to Michael’s laptop.

He didn’t like it when I used his things, but since he wasn’t around, I told myself it would be alright. It would only take a minute.

I opened up his browser, logged into my account, and began typing out the email. That’s when I saw a bookmark folder in the menu bar. The caption simply said, ‘Maria.’ I smiled a bit, wondering what he’d saved in there. Was it the French poetry site I’d sent him? Or maybe it was one of the photography blogs I’d told him about.

At first, I told myself to ignore it and not to snoop around. Eventually, though, my curiosity won over.

What I found made my heart drop.

There were hundreds of bookmarks in that folder. There were some about French poetry and literature, others about photography, but there was so much more. I found my social media accounts, my account on Reddit, the Facebook groups I’d joined and links to a few Evernote documents.

The first one was titled ‘Things she likes.’ The document consisted of a complete breakdown of everything I enjoyed. Bands, movies, books, hobbies. It even included things I’d never told him about. Another was a breakdown of my daily and weekly schedule, my classes, my part-time job, the places I frequented and information on all my friends.

I looked through them in a state of shock. I realized what this was. Michael had created a profile of me!

He’d done all this to get closer to me, to make an impression of me? This was sick, disgusting!

I started to look through the rest of his bookmarks, and it wasn’t long before I found other, similar folders. There was one named ‘Lauren’ and another one named ‘Kim.’ Both of them were almost as detailed as mine!

This freaking creep!

I was so captivated and shocked by all this that I almost missed him returning home. The moment he opened the door, I quickly closed his laptop and started to search for my phone once more.

The moment I found it, I pretended that I’d received a text message and told him I had to leave.

“Michael, I’m sorry, I just got a message by Professor Lindeman! I totally forgot that I’m supposed to meet up with him this morning!” I lied and started to get dressed.

“Really? You’ve got to leave right now? I was about to make us breakfast. I even got the croissants you like so much!”

I forced myself to smile at him. “Oh babe, that’s so sweet! I’d love to stay, but you know how Lindeman can be. God, I can’t stand him at times!”

Good going, Maria, good going. I gathered my things and was about to walk to the front door. Before I could, he came over to me and put his arms around me. When he gave me a kiss, I almost cringed back.

The moment I was at the front door, he seemed to notice something.

“Hey, have you been on my laptop?” he called out.

“What? Don’t be silly,” I said, laughing a little.

“Then why’s it closed? I never close it.”

Shit, I cursed to myself. Maria, you stupid, stupid idiot. I hadn’t even closed the browser I realized.

Before he was even at the laptop, I put my shoes on.

“I really got to go, sorry,” I rambled on and opened the door.

“Why?” I heard him ask in a voice completely different from his usual one. It was strained, angry and… scary.

“Why the fuck did you touch my laptop?! Didn’t I tell you never to do that?!”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I rushed from the apartments and hurried down the stairs. I had to get away. He called after me, but I didn’t stop.

Once I was outside, I mingled between the pedestrians and got away as fast as I could. Still, I looked over my shoulder countless times to see if he was coming after me. Thankfully he didn’t.

From that day onward I avoided going near any of the places we’d used to hang out at. I didn’t even go to that supplementary lecture anymore.

It wasn’t much use, though. I ran into him countless times. Each time he told me it wasn’t what it had looked like. He’d only put it together once we started dating. It was to prepare for our anniversary. He wanted to surprise me and made a massive list of all the things I enjoyed. This time I didn’t believe any of his lies. Instead, I told him he was acting creepy and that I didn’t want to see him ever again.

His advances didn’t stop. At first, they were civil, but soon they became outright stalking.

Again and again, I saw him. He followed me to my lectures, to the cafeteria and even followed me when I was hanging out with friends… Finally, one day, I exploded. I screamed at him in the middle of a bar to leave me the hell alone. I threatened to call the cops and called him a stalker in front of everyone present. He was kicked out by the bouncers, and a male friend escorted me home.

It didn’t help much. From then on, he didn’t approach me directly anymore, but I often noticed him nearby, watching me. At the same time, I started to get weird friend requests on Facebook, and my Reddit posts were flooded with strange comments. I knew it was him.

The day I found him inside of my apartment, I finally informed the police. I’d forgotten that he knew where I kept my spare keys, but I’d have never guessed he’d go that far.

It was early in the evening, and I returned from my part-time job to find him in the kitchen, preparing dinner. It was our anniversary, he said. He’d planned it all, and it would be perfect. Just like in old times. I’d forgiven him by now, hadn’t I?

I ran and didn’t stop until I reached a friend’s place. From there, I called the police. The moment we returned to the apartment, Michael was long gone.

I told them everything. The way we met, our relationship, my discovery, the stalking, and what he said when I found him inside. For the time being, they said they’d watch the area. They urged me to get my locks changed and to file a restraining order against him as soon as possible.

My landlord wasn’t pleased about the whole thing. When I provided the police documents, he reluctantly agreed to have the locks changed.

In the following days, I filed for a restraining order. I didn’t see Michael throughout the whole ordeal, yet it took quite a while before it was put into effect. His parents were wealthy and influential. They tried their best to block my request and to sweep the whole thing under the carpet.

It didn’t work. Once the restraining order was put into effect, I was happy to put this whole thing behind me.

Yet, things aren’t always that simple. At times I still saw Michael and university. It was never for long, always from afar, and the moment he noticed me, he vanished again. Every time it happened, I shivered.

Some of my friends advised me to talk to the police about it, but a university is a public space. We were both students here. There was no way I could get him banned from campus.

As the weeks went by, the whole thing seemed to slowly settle down. I still saw Michael here and there, but he didn’t seem to care anymore.

I wish I could tell you this story ended here. I wish I could’ve checked this off as nothing but a run-in with an obsessive stalker. However, things turned much, much worse.

Eventually, I didn’t see Michael anymore. At least that’s what I thought. Yet, there was this strange feeling.

At first, I struck it off as an overactive imagination. There was no dark figure nearby. There was no one following me. It’s all in your head Maria, I told myself again and again. When a friend pointed out he saw someone as well, I knew it had to be him.

It was always at night, in the dark, but it was clear someone was following me around.

Michael was a smart guy, fiercely smart even, top of his class, honors and all that. So, of course, I never caught him.

I wasn’t sure what he was up to. Was he just watching me, or was he up to something else? I told the police, and they said they’d make sure I was safe, but there wasn’t anything else they could do. I had no proof that it was him other than this ‘gut feeling’ of mine.

One day a coworker of mine approached me near the end of my shift. She asked me if I had a new boyfriend. When I said no, she seemed a bit confused. She told me there’d been a guy outside, clearly waiting for me. When we checked things out again, he was long gone.

Yet again, I couldn’t do anything. I had no proof at all.

On the way home, I was anxious the whole time. I hurried from the station to my apartment, looking around constantly. Was he nearby right now?

The moment I opened my mailbox I freaked out. Neatly stacked between my mail was a small little note. With shaking hands, I opened it. There was only one line written on it.

What’s true terror?

I jerked around, almost waiting to see his grinning face right behind me, but I was all alone.

I rushed inside and locked the door. I was panting heavily, almost shaking. This had to be him!

I called the police and told them what had happened. They sent someone over to check out the note and said they’d handle the situation. If the note were indeed by Michael, he’d be in a lot of trouble. I was relieved when I heard this.

This relief quickly changed to utter frustration, when they informed me that yet again there was no proof. Michael hadn’t been seen on the security cameras in the building, and he had an alibi for the day. I screamed at them that someone else must’ve delivered it instead of him. The only thing they did, though, was to ask me if I could think of someone else. They didn’t seem to take me serious at all!

A few days later, I got another message. This one wasn’t in my mailbox, though. It was during one of my lectures that I halfheartedly checked my email. I noticed one by an unknown sender. Probably spam I thought, but I clicked it anyway. Ever since I deleted an important email by a fellow project member, I was careful about it.

The email consisted of a single line.

 Is it the fear you feel every day?

I knew right away who’d sent it. I jumped off my seat and almost dropped my laptop. The whole ordeal prompted looks from everyone and a joking remark by the professor. I apologized and sat back down, but I couldn’t concentrate anymore. Why was he doing this? What the hell did he want from me?

I blocked the sender and deleted the email. I knew it wouldn’t be of much use. If he wanted to send another one, he could just create a new account. Still, I wanted this tiny victory.

Things got worse every day. Whenever I walked around campus, I had this feeling that he was around. I felt watched constantly. Was he hiding behind that corner over there? Was he inside that building watching me from behind the curtains? I could never be sure.

This whole situation started to take its toll on me. Whenever I heard someone walk up to me, I thought it was him.

When I confided in a friend, she was visibly shocked but told me this was exactly what he wanted. To scare me, nothing else. He wouldn’t risk doing anything to me, he couldn’t. It was all tactics. I knew what she meant, but ‘what if’? What if he was actually waiting for a chance to… do whatever he planned?

When I returned home that day, I knew something wasn’t right. Did you ever enter a familiar place and you knew instantly that something was wrong? That’s what I felt that day.

I’m a very orderly person. I keep my place clean. I know where each and every item belongs and where I left it. I’m almost pedantic in a way.

It didn’t take me long to notice a small ceramic plate, resting on a cupboard in my hallway. It wasn’t supposed to be there. Its usual place was on the living room table! Why the hell was it here? I hadn’t touched it! I knew I hadn’t!

I rushed into the living room and saw it right away. A small note was resting in the place the plate normally would.

Is it the paranoia slowly taking hold of your mind?

I cried out in utter shock. He’d been here again, inside of my apartment! There was no doubt about it!

Or was he still inside? For a moment, I froze and listened. Then my instincts kicked in, and I ran from the apartment.

I rushed down the stairs and out of the building, but I didn’t make it far. Right next to the entrance, I collapsed into a shivering, crying mess. How the hell had he made it inside? How the hell had he gotten a hold of the key? What the hell was it he wanted!?

This time the police took things seriously. They checked the whole place but found no trace of Michael. They also found no hint of a break in. For all they knew, he either had a key, or he must’ve picked the lock.

The police checked my place for fingerprints but found nothing. When they checked the security footage though, they saw someone sneaking up to my apartment. They didn’t see his face, but the note and everything else pointed at no other than Michael.

I wasn’t there when they took him in. I didn’t want to see his face, nor his creepy smile. No, I didn’t want to see him at all. All I wanted was to know that he was in custody and I’d be safe.

When they confirmed that Michael had been the perpetrator and was in serious trouble, I was more relieved than I’d been in weeks, or even month.

Was this whole thing finally over?

For the first time in a long while, I was able to sleep through the night. No dreams, no paranoia, just sleep.

This morning, however, I woke up to something resting on my nightstand. At first, I told myself it was nothing. There was nothing there, and I was still half asleep. I closed my eyes and prayed before I opened them again. When I looked, the small note was still lying there. I started shaking, and when I read it, the tears streamed from my face.

True terror is hope. The hope that you’ll ever truly get away from me.

I Took Part in an Online Scavenger Hunt. I Wish I Hadn’t

Some of you might be puzzled a bit about the title.

An online scavenger hunt is a series of riddles or puzzles on the internet. Throughout the years there have been quite a few them. The most famous example, without a doubt, are the puzzles created by Cicada 3301.

As long as I can think back, I’ve been interested in puzzles and riddles. I guess it’s a mixture of curiosity and wanting to challenge myself.

When I was little, I spent a lot of time with puzzle games and the likes. Once I grew older, during the advent of the internet, I also started to look for them online.

In the past, I’ve taken part in a few of them. Most of the ones I found were rather simple and usually ended with a troll face or silly message. I know some supposedly reward the winner with a price, like the Cicada puzzles mentioned above. Regrettably, I’ve always missed out on them.

Two weeks ago, I finally got my chance to take part in an online puzzle that was a bit more complex. As I’m sitting here now, typing this out, I wish I didn’t…

It was on a Saturday evening that I stumbled upon a strange Tumblr post. It had been reblogged by a few of the accounts I follow. Most of their content is about curious internet stories and hidden pages. When I saw that a post made the rounds, I took a more in-depth look.

Going through the chain of comments and reblogs, I learned that people had actually deciphered a message included in the post. It led to a page on blogger.com that consisted of several cryptic blog posts.

Most of them were quotes by famous people and a few nonsensical sentences below. Two of the posts even contained images.

It didn’t take long for me to find an invite to a discord server that someone had created to solve whatever this was.

All in all, there were about thirty people on the server. When I joined, only a few were actually online. They were busy talking about the blog post and trying to find a connection between the quotes. So far, it seemed, nothing had proven useful.

There was one user, however, that stuck out between the rest. His name was FireSnake89.

While everyone was talking about the quotes and trying to figure out a hidden message, this guy said it was all a waste of time. His posts were riddled with insults like ‘freaking idiots,’ ‘mouthbreathers’ or ‘tumblrfags.’ I sighed when I saw his messages. Found the troll, I thought.

My opinion of him changed would soon change. It wasn’t long before he proclaimed he’d figured it all out. Of course, people called him out. After five minutes of explaining and mentioning the power of his ‘boundless autism,’ everyone was quiet.

The quotes he said, were all from famous works of fiction. That’s all there was to them. Sure, the theme of the quotes was related, but that was only there to lead people astray. He continued on about different editions of books, publishers, checksums and a hidden message on the website itself.

“It wasn’t too tough,” he bragged, “just a bit tricky.”

Sitting in front of my computer, I couldn’t help but be impressed by this guy. I’d no clue how he’d figured out half of it.

“Let’s see if you dumbasses can figure out the rest on your own,” he wrote and posted a line of numbers and letters:

696e7374616772616d2e636f6d2f626c75727065310a

My first impulse was to enter it into Google, but that didn’t give me any results. A chat message by another user proved that I wasn’t the only one dumb enough to try this.

At first, I started to calculate the digit sum of the numbers between the letters, to see if that give me a hint. It was all nonsense, though. Another attempt at using Google didn’t help either.

I sat there, puzzled, staring at the numbers and letters when it hit me. I’d seen something like this before, hadn’t I? All the letters were from early in the alphabet. There had to be a reason for this.

Right away, a memory from my IT class came back to me. HEX code consisted of nothing but numbers and the first six letters of the alphabet!

Looking at the line that Fire Snake had posted, I realized that the highest letter was indeed an f. That was the highest letter in HEX code as well.

I started dividing up the line into pairs, which gave me this:

69 6e 73 74 61 67 72 61 6d 2e 63 6f 6d 2f 62 6c 75 72 70 65 31 0a

Moments later, I entered it into a HEX converter. I’d expected it to give me nothing but a garbled mess, but what appeared on my screen was the URL of an Instagram profile.

instagram.com/blurpe1

I blinked, pressed convert again, and then entered the URL into my browser. To my surprise, a somewhat typical Instagram profile appeared on my screen.

It was supposedly the profile of a twenty-two-year-old girl. There was a URL that led to a simple WordPress site. The account itself consisted of half a dozen pictures, all of the same girl.

I posted it in the discord chat. Three other users were still trying to figure out what the line of numbers and letters meant.

Once I’d posted it, the chat was quiet for a moment before people asked me to explain.

The first replay came from FireSnake, saying that there seemed to be at least one person with half a brain in here. I’m a bit embarrassed, but I smiled at this ‘compliment’ by someone who was obviously much smarter than me.

For the next half hour, I started to check out the Instagram profile as well as the WordPress site. I didn’t even know where to start. I clicked through the pictures, checked out comments, read through the WordPress site, but I was utterly overwhelmed.

In the end, I said goodbye to the people on discord, told them I’d be there again tomorrow and headed to bed.

When I got up the next day, the first thing I did was to recheck discord. The chat was a bit more active now, and quite a few people were online. Most of them talked about the WordPress site on which they’d supposedly found a hint. I was about to ask them what they’d found, but I saw I’d got a message by FireSnake. It was a simple one-liner:

“That WordPress site is a red herring, check the hashtags.”

I asked him what he meant, but I saw he wasn’t online at the moment or at least invisible. Needless to say, I didn’t get an answer.

It was about an hour later that I’d put the next clue together, a short little riddle. It took me quite a bit to figure out the answer, but once I did the next step was clear: Using Google Images.

I was about to post it in the general chat of the discord, but the moment I was about to send it I paused. Then I deleted the message and opened the private chat with FireSnake.

This time a reply came back almost instantly.

“Not bad,” was all I got.

After I returned from the kitchen to get another cup of coffee, he’d sent me a couple more messages.

So far, he hadn’t figured out the next step. He said he had a few ideas, but nothing feasible. I asked him why he didn’t say anything in the general chat. His answer was short:

“You think those idiots can figure shit out?”

When I took a look at the chat, I saw that people were still analyzing the WordPress site. To be honest, he had a point.

It was from this time onward that we started to work together.

I’d planned to hang out with friends that Sunday, but I ended up canceling. Instead spent the rest of the day figuring out a few more clues with FireSnake.

To be honest, I’d no clue why he needed my help. Apart from a few flashes of inspiration, I felt utterly useless and always a few steps behind. I was hooked on solving this thing, though. I really wanted to see where it would lead us.

For the next couple of days, I was obsessed with this thing. I did nothing but going to work and trying to figure out clues. Even at work, I spent more time with these online riddles than actually doing my job.

During these days, FireSnake and I scanned various websites, Facebook profiles, talked to automated chatbots and even sent an email to an autoreplier. This whole thing was nothing short of absolutely fascinating.

I also learned a few more things about my new friend. He told me his real name was Mike. He’d been kicked out of university a good year ago and ever since he’d been unemployed. The guy seemed to be the prime example of a basement dweller, but man was he smart. He told me he dabbled in a few things online, like cryptocurrencies, private bot networks, and automated blogs. So far, none of them had really taken off. So for now, he spent most of his days on the internet, doing things like this scavenger hunt.

Needless to say, he was quite the weirdo. Still, figuring this thing out together was fun.

It was near the end of the week that I told him I’d not be around for a while. I’d be attending a family gathering on Friday and Saturday. He gave me his condolences and made a few weird jokes, but said I should have fun. He’d see what he could figure out on his own.

While I was with my family, I still checked discord on my phone every once in a while. There was the occasional message by him, in which he told me what progress he’d made. On Saturday afternoon, he got quiet, though.

Once I was back home, I sent him a message, joking how unexpected it was for him to be stuck that long. I figured he’d be offline, but even after a couple hours had passed, I got no reply.

After that, I decided to follow his progress. It was much harder than I’d expected. Mike had a cryptic way of talking and always forgot to mention half the things he’d figured out.

I messaged him a few more times, asking about some of the clues, but still got no reply. Had he solved the whole thing on his own already? If so, fuck me.

In the end, I decided to solve this thing on my own if that was even possible. I checked the general chat, but people were still way behind.

As I kept going, I noticed a few things. The links that led me on weren’t hard-coded anymore. Instead, they seemed to be dynamically generated. At first, I didn’t know what to make of it, but then it clicked. From a certain point onward, it seemed that people got their own, private clues.

I couldn’t help but smile. This was very interesting. I wondered how much effort went into creating a thing like this. Maybe this was the reason Mike hadn’t answered me? I was sure he’d figured this out days ago and was busy solving them on his own now.

Making progress was tough. I noticed that things got a bit easier, though. Before it had been all about hidden messages and Metadata. Now, it was more about simple riddles or figuring out specific lines of text. Maybe it was to discourage team efforts from here on out? Either way, I continued on.

It was five days ago that one of the clues made me scratch my head. It was clear that I was supposed to figure out a specific location.

I went over it and couldn’t help but laugh when I realized that my home area would fit the clue quite well. I continued tinkering with it, but the longer I did, the more it seemed I’d already found the solution. It was, without a doubt, my home area’s name.

I sat back, a bit confused. So far, all the clues and riddles had been in English and were related to American pop culture. So why did it suddenly talk about an area in the middle of nowhere in Germany?

I shrugged it off. Maybe the creator of this thing had included a few bits and pieces here and there related to my IP address? It wouldn’t be too farfetched, and it was an excellent addition. Still, were those riddles and clues automated as well? Would someone go to such lengths for something like this?

The next clue proofed that he indeed would. I felt weird when I was sent to the Wikipedia page of the next town over. I was supposed to search through the recent edits. In there, I found a link to yet another random blog post.

The next clue, however, sent me to a picture stream, showing locations in my town.

I leaned back in my chair, baffled. How in the hell. Finding the rough area I lived at was one thing, but finding my exact town solely via IP was impossible. It made no sense. Was it a coincidence? Could it be that this thing was just using different towns in the area?

The riddle this time was simple. It was a URL hidden in the website’s code.

Once I’d followed the link though, I couldn’t pretend that all this was happening by chance anymore.

What I stared at was a picture of my room, obviously recorded by my webcam.

For a while, I sat there, too shocked to do anything. Then m hand shot forward, turning it away before I disconnected it altogether.

What the hell was going on? Then I realized that I must’ve been hacked. This whole thing had just turned into a stupid joke to fuck with me, hadn’t it?

Well, really funny, I thought, really fucking funny. I was sure by now that this was all nothing but a stupid troll. I was about to just close the page when I read the text below the picture.

‘Enter the name:’

Next to it was a text field in which I could enter text.

Yeah right, I thought at first. After a while, though, my curiosity took over. I’d spent more than a week trying to solve this thing, and even if it was all bullshit, I wanted to get to the end.

What name, though? What was I supposed to enter? I looked at the image of my room again. There was my bookshelf, my bed and the pictures on my wall. Was he talking about one of the books? I haphazardly entered the names of various authors, but none of them worked. I leaned in closer and looked at the picture intently.

After a couple minutes, I felt strangely watched and jerked around, but I was obviously alone. I rubbed my temples and told myself it was all a stupid joke.

For the next half hour, I tried everything I could think off. Hell, I tried my own name, but nothing worked.

It was at this point that I noticed something. It was a picture of my girlfriend and I sitting on my bookshelf. When I entered her name, the page started to load, indicating that I’d solved this riddle.

I was waiting for yet another cryptic message, but I was greeted by a page that said ‘WINNER’ at the top.

I frowned, waiting for a troll face or rickroll to appear on the screen, or hell maybe a picture of me sitting in front of my computer, looking like an idiot.

Instead, a short sentence appeared in the middle of the screen:

‘The greatest reward of all is the truth.’

As I read the message list of eight links appeared on the screen below. ‘Secret 1’ was the first going on until ‘Secret 8’.

What the hell? Don’t tell me this was some shitty conspiracy theory or esoteric bullshit. I was prepared for almost anything. To find out that Trump was a lizard person, that Obama was an alien or to see some sort of sick graphical images.

I took a deep breath and clicked the first link.

What opened up was a recording of Facebook.

I stared at it in confusion, but then I realized it was my girlfriend’s profile. How the hell was there a recording of her account?

Whoever was recording this clicked around for a bit before the messenger was opened. One was a conversation with a guy from our group of friends. The cursor moved down and started to highlight messages one after another.

“How are you doing today, sexy girl?”

“Kinky, what about you? :-*”

“Won’t Robert be mad if you send something like this to me? :p”

“Haha, no way, he’s got no clue about us ;)”

As I continued reading, my heart dropped. What the hell was this? Was this… real? Did this mean that Claudia was cheating on me? What the fuck?! What the fuck was going on here?

I clicked back. This had to be some sort of stupid troll that was trying to trick me!

I clicked on the next one and found a different recording. This one was of an email account. At first, I thought it was mine, but when I scanned the screen, I could see that it was my mom’s Gmail account. Why the hell would someone hack her email?

Then I saw the cursor move around once more. One after another, it opened up various emails about cancer treatments and medications. I felt very cold all of a sudden. A thought appeared in my mind, but I quickly pushed it away. Mom had been sick for a while, but she’d said it was nothing but a long lasting cold, hadn’t she?

I went through the other links. As the title said, they all revealed the secrets of people I knew.

One showed me that my best friend had raped a girl, but got away due to the influence of his parents. Another proved that my uncle had been cheating on his wife for years by now.

I don’t know anymore why I kept going, but I clicked through all of them. Afterward, I felt empty, cold, and most of all, crushed.

Again, I read the message that truth was the greatest reward of all.

I cursed at the screen and at this whole damned thing. Why the fuck would anyone do this? Why would someone send me all this information? Was it just to fuck with me? Why?

It was right at this time that discord notified me that I’d gotten a direct message. I clicked and saw that it was from Mike.

“Congratulations on making it to the end. Took you a bit longer than I expected, but it was fun while it lasted, wasn’t it? Thanks for playing, and I hope you enjoyed your reward?”

I was in a pure and utter rage, insulting him and asking him how the hell he’d found out who I was. All I got was another condescending message.

“Now riddle me this. Why do you think I forced you to send me an email and log into your Facebook account? It was too damn easy to get your private data.”

I didn’t type my next message. No, I almost beat it into the keyboard. I asked him what he got from this and why he was doing all this. His answer was as simple as can be. It was only one line that he sent before he blocked me.

“You know, some men just want to watch the world burn.”

Be Careful What You Do on the Internet

Ever since live webcam feeds became popular, I’ve been a fan of them. It’s strangely relaxing to watch them.

I’m not talking about streamers on Twitch or other pages like that. I’m talking about live feeds of public places.

By now there are millions of them out there. You can watch a public square in the center of Tokyo, switch to a small town in Eastern Europe and after that look at a busy street in the US.

What I was most interested though were the feeds of my own city.

I often sat in front of my computer, wondering what other people were up to at the same moment. How many people were sitting together with friends and family? How many were alone? How many people were born and how many died at this exact moment?

These questions often lingered in the back of my mind. These feeds helped me to satisfy my curiosity, at least to a degree.

It wasn’t long though before I tired of the normal feeds. In the end, it was nothing but watching public places and open spaces. I wanted something different, something more intimate.

It was right here on Reddit that I stumbled upon a different type of feed.

I didn’t know they existed, but there are thousands of hacked webcams and compromised security cameras out there. Nowadays, everything is digitized. Most people have a webcam at home.

It was satisfying to watch people in secret. You could simply turn in to someone else’s life and see raw, unfiltered events.

I could see the dreadfully boring atmosphere in an open-space office or watch a happy family of three playing a board game.

All of those were only mildly interesting though. Once I started to dig, however, I eventually stumbled upon things that were a bit stranger.

One feed was from an office in my city. The walls were plastered with motivational pictures and far eastern dogmas. The moment I opened the feed, a strange productivity ritual was going on. There was no sound of course, but watching a dozen people move in unison as if in a trance was creepy enough.

Another feed showed me an old man in a wheelchair. For a while, the man was going through a book, but then a young woman entered the room. She was wearing a nursing outfit and brought a bucket into the room with her. She filled it with water and started to wash the old man’s body. The weird part began when she undressed as well and started to wash her own, naked body in front of the man.

There were many other such feeds. In one, I saw middle-aged woman hugging a life-sized doll that looked exactly like her. Another one showed a family in a perpetual argument, screaming at each other and behaving like rabid animals.

What made things even worse was the integrated chat function. If you tuned in to one of those compromised feeds, you’d automatically join a chat. People in there were going livid, poking fun at and laughing about the miserable lives of others.

I’d like to tell you that I was disgusted by it, but to be honest, I was fascinated. The people on screen, the chat, my own emotions. It all came together into a weird, strange mix that made me feel alive.

I longed to peek into people’s private lives. To see what was below the mask. I searched for feeds that allowed me to satisfy my own voyeuristic tendencies.

At first, I’d switched through these feeds randomly. Soon enough though I reverted back to my old habit. I started searching for feeds in my city specifically.

Most of the feeds I found had specific names. I guess it had to do with the set-up. As I went through the list, I saw SecurityCamera1A, Lobby-21-C, Bedroom, MyHome2, and so on.

When I stumbled upon one that consisted of nothing but numbers and letters, my interest was piqued.

The preview was nothing but a dark screen.

I clicked it and was greeted by complete darkness. At first, I frowned and thought the camera might be broken. Then I noticed something moving in the dark. I tried my best to figure out what it was, but it was too damn dark to see anything.

Was the camera indoors or outside? Frustrated, I was about to close the feed off, but then I saw more movement.

I cursed and leaned forward, trying to figure out what I was watching. Suddenly a flood light came on, and for a moment, I cringed back.

When I looked at the screen again, I saw that the broadcast came from a vast hall. No, I realized when I saw the empty shelves that lined the walls, a warehouse.

The camera had to be situated in one of the upper corners to allow a view of the whole area.

As I watched, I saw people walking around. Was this the security camera of some warehouse? Was I watching a nightshift or something?

When more people came into view, I realized that couldn’t be it. No one would need a dozen people to take care of a warehouse, let alone multiple dozen. As I continued to watch, I saw that there had to be at least fifty people there. Some were dressed in casual cloth, others were wearing more expensive outfits.

Had I stumbled upon a private party? Or hell, maybe this was a secret meet-up? In my mind, ideas about underground society and secret cults formed. Then I laughed out loud. This was real life and not Hollywood!

It was probably nothing remotely like what I’d imagined. Hell, it might be a start-up that had bought this old warehouse and planned to transform it into a make-shift office or something equally dull. Still, I told myself I’d watch for a bit longer.

When I saw people dressed up like security guards, I watched with more interest. They seemed to talk to one of the more costly dressed people and soon vanished again, off camera. Then people looked up to somewhere else that I couldn’t see. I cursed, these damned feeds never had any freaking audio. I wanted to hear what was going on, for Christ’s sake!

What’s this shit? someone typed into the chat next to the camera feed.

I always ignored the chat. I really didn’t want to interact with anyone. When I checked it out now, I saw that three other people were watching the feed with me.

Illuminati, someone else answered.

Yep, that’s precisely why I didn’t associate with these people.

As they continued to talk about what the Illuminati planned to do at an abandoned warehouse in some random city, I continued to watch the feed.

Right now a new figure came into view. He walked between the assembled people who formed a circle around him. The man was holding a microphone and addressed everyone present.

Must be a party, after all, I thought.

Suddenly there was movement from outside the circle. Two of the security guards moved towards it, dragging a third man behind them. He was struggling in their grip, trying to get away.

Alright, what the hell was I watching?

The man was thrown into the middle of the circle. He looked around, visibly agitated and seemed to yell at the attendees. Many times he tried to break from the circle, but each time the security guards stopped him.

As I watched the man’s desperate attempt at escape, I almost missed the other figure who walked towards the circle. The moment I noticed him though, I couldn’t look away anymore.

This guy was tall, unnaturally tall. He seemed to be at least a head taller than everyone else. The camera was a bit too far away, so at first, I thought he was wearing a mask. When he opened his mouth though I realized that this had to be his real face.

There was only the hint of a nose between scar tissue, and his mouth seemed almost lipless. His arms were massive, bulking with muscles and ended in hands the size of bear paws. What the hell was this guy?

People in chat went wild when they saw him. I read the words mutant, super solider, and even a reference to Resident Evil. I frowned.

The moment the man reached the circle, the attendees hurried out of his way to let him pass. When the other man saw this hulking abomination, he tried to escape once more, but it was futile.

By now, all the attendees seemed to be in a state of utter excitement. The man with the microphone first turned towards the smaller man who’d tried to escape. Then he turned to the freak show of a man that had just entered the circle.

He nodded at both of them before he turned around and joined with the rest of the attendees in the circle. People were applauding and yelling, and I finally realized what I was watching.

This was a fight, a pit fight to be precise.

Freakshow, the name I’d given to the abomination, stepped forward. With no more than a few steps, he’d crossed the distance between himself and the other man.

The man reacted quickly and escaped to the other side of the circle. Whenever he got too close to the attendees, though, they pushed him forward to the center again.

It wasn’t long before Freakshow was able to grasp the man and threw him to the ground. The man got back to his feet, but a moment later, Freakshow’s giant first connected with his face. Blood exploded into the air, and the man was blown off his feet.

“Holy shit,” I pressed out.

The audience exploded into applause again.

The man got up once more, but he was staggering. Then he leaned to his right. One of the audience members had handed him something.

Only when he charged forward, did I see that he was holding a metal rod. Freakshow raised his giant arms to protect his face, but one of the hits still connected. This sent him into a frenzy. A second hit connected as well, but there was no visible reaction.

When the third blow came, Freakshow effortlessly caught the metal rod. He ripped it from the other man’s hands and kicked him backward. This time he didn’t go down, but a swing of the metal rod finished the job.

Freakshow went forward and put his foot on the man’s chest. I saw the small frame desperately trying to get away. Then Freakshow took the metal rod and rammed it into the guy’s face.

The feed was silent, yet I could hear the man’s painful screams in my head. Blood and teeth splattered over the floor.

Jesus Christ, what the fuck was I watching? I’d thought this was just some sort of fight, but this went way too far! The fight was over now, wasn’t it? That guy couldn’t possibly fight anymore!

It wasn’t over yet, though.

With one hand Freakshow shoved the metal rod straight into the man’s ravaged mouth. Then he raised his other hand high into the air before he brought his fist down on top of the metal rod with full force.

For a few moments, the body below him was convulsing before he lay still.

I sat in front of the camera, stunned. I stared at the screen unblinking. Had I seen what I thought I had?

On the feed, the man with the microphone walked back into the center of the circle. He raised Freakshow’s arm up into the air, most likely proclaiming him the winner of the fight. The audience exploded into toneless cheering, while security dragged the body of the loser off camera.

Had I really watched someone being murdered?

Chat was slow now. Everyone must’ve been as shocked as I was.

Is this real, guys? one person typed.

Probably a movie or something, another answered.

A movie? But there was no set. No film crew, no other cameras, nothing. It had looked so damn realistic!

Right at this moment, a new person entered the chat.

Guess you’ve been watching, haven’t you?

No shit, someone answered. Similar comments by the remaining two followed.

Well, then you know that you should at least mask your IP address and cover your own camera. Otherwise, it’s really easy to figure out where you are.

When I read this, I froze. I looked at the webcam on top of my monitor. I stared directly into it and only now did I notice the tiny, green light that showed it had been active all along.

In an instant I ripped it off my computer and moments later I closed the strange camera feed.

However, there’d been one last message. I’d only seen it for the blink of an eye, yet I’d read it.

It was only two little words that drove me into a state of sheer and utter panic.

Too slow.

Mommy Dearest

The first time I met Karen, I instantly knew something was wrong with her.

She was a mousy girl with wild, dirty hair. The moment she saw me, she hurried past me in the hallway with her eyes downcast.

“Nice to meet you, too,” I called after her in a low voice.

For a short moment, she turned around. Her eyes were as wild as her hair. She seemed terrified about the prospect of social interaction.

She only mumbled a short “Hello,” before she hurried up the stairs.

I stood there, looking after her before she vanished. What a strange woman, I thought.

I’d been living in this apartment building for a month now, but I’d never seen her before.

If not for the occasional sounds above, I’d have thought I was living here all by myself. At least now I knew who the other tenant was.

It was almost two weeks before I saw her again. I was about to check my mail and almost ran into her in the hallway. She was carrying three giant bags of groceries, and the moment she saw me, one of them slipped from her arms. The contents of the bag scattered all over the floor.

“Jeez, sorry about that,” I called out and hurried to help her pick everything up.

“No,” she started in a low voice, “it’s alright I can-“

“Just let me help you real quick,” I cut her off.

We spent a minute in complete silence gathering everything up. Once done, she was quick to pick up the bags again.

She staggered forward and almost dropped one of the bags again as she tried to make her way upstairs.

I sighed. “Alright, hand me that,” I said and grabbed one of the bags.

“It’s fine, really,” she protested, “I can just,” but right then she lost grip of another back. Thankfully I was right next to her and caught it.

After that, she relented and let me carry the bag. She seemed so scared and out of it. What was wrong with her?

I sighed and made my way upstairs. She hurried after me, mumbling to herself.

“You really don’t have to, just leave it by the door and-“

She was cut off by screaming from inside the apartment. It was a high pitched voice rambling unintelligible.

“What the hell,” I said out loud in surprise.

“Sorry about that,” she mumbled, shuffling around in front of the door. “My mother, she isn’t doing so well, so,” she broke up again staring at me.

I waited for her to open the door so I could help her carry the bag inside, but she didn’t move at all. She just stared at me with wide eyes, and her mouth was nothing but a hard line. I could see the grocery bag trembling in her arms.

“Well,” I finally said after a while, “I got to go, so take care.”

She didn’t say anything to me. Even as I walked away, the only sound I could hear was the rustling of the grocery bag in her shaking arms.

Only when I was on the stairs did I hear her unlock the door.

Back downstairs in my apartment, I could hear the high pitch voice of who I assumed to be her mother. The woman was screaming and yelling for what seemed to be minutes.

For a moment I sat there brooding, but whatever was going on up there had nothing to do with me.

After this encounter, I didn’t see Karen for a long time. I’d have thought her and her mother had moved out if not for the occasional argument from upstairs.

One day I realized why. I’d worked overtime and got home much later than usual. It was already late evening. I was about to unlock my door when I noticed her coming in with a bag of groceries. Had she only gone out shopping that late to avoid running into me?

She looked as tired and scared as before, but much scruffier.

I could see the bags under her eyes as well as a swollen and split lip. The moment she saw me, she stepped back, hiding around the corner.

Only when I got out my keys and unlocked the door did she try to sneak past me.

I turned towards her to greet her but broke up when I noticed a long gash on her arm.

“Hey, is everything alright?” I called out to her.

Right at that moment she turned around and glared at me. At first, I mistook her expression for anger, but no, she stared at me almost pleadingly. What the hell was wrong with her?

Right then, I heard the shrill voice of her mother from upstairs again. “What are you doing down there you little whore? Are you talking to him again?”

She winced and closed her arms around the bag tightly.

“No mommy dearest, I’m going to be right there, just hold on a moment!”

With that, she hurried up the stairs, taking two at a time.

Soon after she was gone, the noise upstairs started anew. This time it wasn’t just yelling. This time I could hear the sounds of an actual fight and the shrill shrieks of her mother.

I had the phone in my hand and considered calling the police. I’d entered the number already, but then I put the phone away. It has got nothing to do with me, I told myself again.

That night, long past midnight, I was woken up by low knocks against my door. At first, I thought it was the lingering memory of a dream. When it didn’t stop, I got up.

I sneaked towards the door and looked through the spyglass. It was her, as I’d expected.

I cracked the door. “What is it?” I asked her sleepily and not a bit annoyed.

“Please call the police,” she said in a hushed whisper.

“What is,” I started but broke up when I saw her condition. There were scratches on her cheeks, and I could see the dark marks around her throat.

“Holy shit, what happened,” I called out in shock. Karen winced, her eyes grew wide, and she started shaking violently. Her mouth opened and closed again. When the screams upstairs started anew, her face lost all color and changed to a mask of terror.

“Where are you, Karen? Don’t you dare make me come down there and get you! You hear me, girl!? Get up right here, right now, your dear mommy needs you!”

For a moment, she stared at me and whispered the word ‘please’ once more. Then she hurried away.

I called the police then and there and told them there was a case of domestic violence in the apartment upstairs.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive, and I quickly explained the situation.

I watched as they went upstairs and soon I heard a serious commotion. Shortly after the paramedics arrived and I could see them carry a body outside.

“Jesus Christ,” I cursed and hurried outside. Why didn’t I call them earlier? Why didn’t I do anything to save her?

When I saw Karen, I stopped. She was led to a police car by two officers. The moment she noticed me, she beamed at me. It was almost as if she was in a state of bliss when she entered the police car.

“Freaking insane,” one of the paramedics mumbled behind me.

“Was it self-defense?” I asked the man.

His face was riddled with disgust.

“Self-defense? How the hell is stuffing a body self-defense?” the man cursed and turned away retching.

“What the hell?”

At this moment, one of the police officers hurried over to me. He thanked me for calling them but quickly led me back to my apartment. In a serious voice, he instructed me to stay inside and not to disturb them anymore.

I learned about the whole case from the local news a few days later.

The reporter talked about one of the weirdest cases in recent years. They called Karen The Taxidermist. What the police found in the apartment that night had been a young woman and the old, stuffed body of her mother.

I listened in disbelief. This story made no sense at all.

The reporter continued that the mother’s remains were old and that she must’ve died years ago. It was suspected that the daughter couldn’t cope with her mother’s death and had decided to preserve the body.

Years ago? That made no sense at all. I’d moved in only a couple of months ago. I’d heard the mother scream after her, hadn’t I? How in the hell was any of this possible?

For weeks I tried to make sense of the whole thing. Yet, I couldn’t. The story was too absurd.

I started to search for more about it online, but I didn’t find much. The case had been settled already, and Karen had been admitted to a mental ward in the city.

The decision was a quick one. There was only one way to get answers.

A few days later, I arrived at the mental ward. I explained to the staff that I was here to visit Karen Schubert and that I was an old family friend.

I was still a bit too early for visiting hours, so while I waited, I talked to an older nurse. She explained Karen’s condition to me.

Karen suffered from a severe case of schizophrenia and an identity disorder. When I asked what it meant, the nurse told me that Karen was thinking of herself not only as Karen but also her mother. At times she was playing out conflicts and talks between the two of them. It was clear from Karen’s history that mother’s death had affected her deeply. After it, she’d preserved the body and talked to herself as if her mother was still around. Eventually, coupled with her other issues, this developed into an identity disorder.

I listened intently, but it still made no sense.

“But I heard her mother speak,” I protested.

“It’s not seldom the case that each personality has their own distinct voice and speaking patterns. What you’ve heard is most likely-“

“No, that’s not what I mean! I heard her from upstairs and,” I broke up when I noticed the stare the nurse gave me. If I told her what I’d experienced, she’d think I was crazy as well.

I shook my head. “I guess, it’s hard to handle these things. Karen always seemed so normal, no one would have guessed,” I mumbled.

The nurse went on for a bit longer and explained to me how to best talk to Karen and which topics to avoid.

Finally, she led me into the visiting area where Karen waited for me. The young woman looked as scruffy and awkward as she’d always done. Her face, however, was beaming, and she welcomed me with a radiant smile.

“Hey there,” I greeted her and took a seat opposite her.

“Oh god, I wanted to thank you again for so long! I don’t know how I can ever thank you!” she rambled on. She even took one of my hands into hers before she realized what she was doing.

“What’s going on here?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you here? Schizophrenia? Identity disorder? I heard your mother from-“

At these words, Karen’s eyes grew wide, and in a moment, she jerked forward, pressing her hand onto my mouth.

“No, don’t talk about it! Never mention anything about that!”

I nodded. “But really, you don’t belong here, right?” I whispered.

Once more, she glanced around alarmed. Finally, though she nodded but leaned forward.

“But I want to be here! If they find out I’m not sick, they’ll put me back out there!”

“Yeah, but why do you want to be here? This place it’s-“

“It’s safe!” she hissed at me.

“Safe? From what?”

“From her! If they lock me up here, she can’t get to me. Not ever again!”

“Who?” I asked.

“Mommy Dearest, of course!”

And with that, she leaned back, closed her eyes, and smiled. Soon enough, she started giggling and laughing in her happiness.

I sat there and watched the woman opposite of me. She was in a state of complete and utter bliss.

When I got up to leave, I didn’t look back. I didn’t understand a thing she’d just told me. I didn’t want to. There was much more hidden here than just an identity disorder. For long minutes I sat in my car shivering and shaking at the absurdity of the situation before I was able to drive off.

I never looked up anything regarding Karen Schubert or her mother ever again. I never went back to that metal ward to talk to her. And I never spent so much as another thought on that story.

World of the Macabre

I first heard about ‘The World of the Macabre’ about a week ago.

It was in a post by one of my favorite horror writers, Melody Madness.

She’s a rather niche writer. I found her work half a year ago and loved it ever since. You could say I’m a bit obsessed with her work.

Melody is great, fantastic even, but as I said, she’s still mostly unknown. It’s a shame. She really deserves more recognition.

The moment she announced she’d be featured in a new, upcoming podcast I was as excited as she seemed to be about it. On Facebook, she wrote that the creators reached out to her and wanted to feature her story in the pilot episode. The name of the podcast was ‘The World of the Macabre.’

The pilot episode was to be a special event done live on air at first. Later on, it would be distributed online as well. It was an interesting idea.

Melody wrote that she’d do a live reaction stream on Facebook to help with the promotion.

The moment I read this looked up. Melody liked to play around with Meta elements to give her audience a bit of an extra edge. Many times before she’d posted random updates about her day or her life in general, only for things to get a bit strange as she kept updating. You’d only realize after a while that you were actually reading another one of her stories. I loved the style. So the moment I read about a live reaction, I was sure she’d planned a bit more.

When the day of the stream arrived, a happy, bouncy Melody greeted me and the handful of other fans that had joined. She said the podcast was scheduled to start in about twenty minutes. Until then, she’d talk a bit about future plans and upcoming stories.

Sipping from a cup of coffee she told us about new ideas and a novella she was working on. It was mostly incoherent ramblings due to her excitement.

“God,” she laughed, “I’m so scatterbrained today.”

After a while, she decided to tell us a bit more about the podcast.

One day an email arrived in her inbox, asking if she wanted one of her stories featured on an upcoming podcast. When she checked out the website, everything looked fine and professional. So she wrote back almost instantly that she’d be happy to contribute. After a bit of back and force, she sent them a few of her stories and let them pick one of them.

“You’ve got no idea how excited I am about this! They even said they are going to pay me $50 for it! Maybe this can be the start of something big!”

Can you link the website? I typed in the chat.

“Sure, hold on, Megan. I’m going to copy it!”

She clicked around for a while and then posted the link in the chat.

“Hm, that’s strange, it doesn’t seem to work anymore,” she said, scratching her head.

When I tried to open the link all I got was a blank page.

They are new? I typed once more.

“Yes, the creator was in touch with me and told me it was a sort of passion project for him. They created the website only recently. He told me they got in contact with quite a few writers, but I was their first choice!”

Congratulations and thumbs up flooded the chat.

“So, do you guys think-“

Melody broke up when the podcast suddenly started.

“Friends of the macabre, welcome to the very first episode of our special podcast, The World of the Macabre!”

The voice of the man was loud and booming, almost thunderous. He had a weird accent, stretching some of the vowels a bit too much.

“Today, on this very first episode, we’re honored to feature a very special, writer, Melody Madness!”

Melody was beaming when she heard her name spoken out loud.

“This is it, everyone! God, I’m so excited!” she called out.

“The story we’re going to feature this evening can be best described as a true crime, murder mystery,” the host continued.

“I guess you could call it that,” Melody said frowning for a moment. As soon as the host started narrating though, she was all smiles again.

“Night had descended, and the sun had handed over the world to her nocturnal sister. In the glimmer of the moonlight, hidden between long shadows, a man followed a lonely road. There’s but one thing on his mind, the thirst for blood. As this ghastly abomination in human form made his way…”

The production of the show wasn’t the best. It was rather amateurish, to be honest. The voice of the narrator, however, made up for it. His accent worked exceptionally well to put you into the right mood. As the minutes went by, and the story continued, I could see that Melody’s expression changed. From a happy and excited one, it turned to one of confusion.

“Wait a moment, I didn’t write that! That’s not my story!” Melody called out all of a sudden.

Not your story? I thought they said yours would be featured? Maybe they’ll narrate it after this one?

“No, it is my story, at least the beginning, but they changed the rest!” she exclaimed.

“Why are they doing this? I should write them another email and-“

Suddenly a low noise could be heard in the background. It sounded almost like scratching. The moment Melody heard it, she looked up.

“What was that? Y-you guys heard it, right?”

“Slowly ever so slowly our hunter stalked his prey.”

People were quick to reply in the chat, asking if something was wrong. As I watched on, I started to smile. Melody was doing it again. This had to be another one of her shenanigans. I knew a live reaction was a bit too lame and straightforward for her. I leaned in closer and watched the stream with double the interest.

“He didn’t open the door just yet. The night was still young, and it was still too early to make a move.”

“Alright guys, I don’t know what’s going on here, but this is getting creepy. You heard that noise, didn’t you?”

“From afar the hunter kept track of his prey. His victim was still there, still oblivious and still… moving. For you see, a coffee is not always just a coffee. There are many ways to make someone compliant, but as our Melody here knows, some are better than others.”

Melody jerked around and picked up the cup of coffee she’d finished right before the start of the podcast.

“No way, it was just a story,” she pressed out. She picked up her phone, but right then something hit the window, and the phone slipped from her hands.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” she said over and over again.

The chat exploded with activity. No one knew what was going on.

Once more noises could be heard in the background. Melody’s eyes were wide, terrified. That’s some pretty good acting, Melody, I thought.

“Lease all the olice,” Melody mumbled. Her voice was weird, muffled, and she swallowed half the words.

Once more, she tried to pick up the phone, but it slipped from her shaking hands again.

As the creaking of a door was heard, she turned from the camera towards the door of her room. She took one shaking step, then another before her legs gave way and she crashed to the floor. Soon enough, she wasn’t moving anymore.

Only moments later a figure stepped into the room.

“Finally, our nocturnal hunter was ready to catch his prey,” the narrator continued with the story.

With that, the figure stared directly into the camera. I cringed back at the sight before I realized that the man was wearing a creepy mask.

He refocused the camera on Melody and meticulously started to bind her arms and legs as well as putting a gag into her mouth.

“Hungry, oh so hungry, the hunter was for the flesh of another human.”

The man grabbed hold of Melody and pulled her away from the camera and out of the room.

“The blade was old, dull and rusty, but enough to finish the job.”

There was a sickening sound somewhere of camera followed by muffled screams.

“In ecstasy, our hunter sank his fangs into the prey. Flesh tore, and bones broke as he started to devour the body.”

I was sitting there, staring at the stream. I could hear the muffled screams and a disgusting, wet, sound. This was still fake, right? It was yet another one of Melody’s tricks. It had to be!

“Well then, friends of the macabre. With this today’s episode comes to an end,” the narrator spoke over the muffled screams off camera. “We want to thank our writer Melody Madness for her contribution to our new show. Hopefully, other writers are interested in working with us as well. The World of the Macabre is always looking for young and enthusiastic contributors!”

After that, the narrator went quiet. All that was left was a low static and the sounds off camera. By now there were no muffled screams anymore. All that could be heard was heavy breathing the tearing of flesh.

Then, a minute or so later, the same figure, now covered in blood, walked into the room and ended the stream.

It had to be fake, I told myself. There was no freaking way any of this was real. She’d got me good, I thought.

People started to comment on Melody’s profile and timeline. Many were as confused as me. Others were unsure what they’d seen. A few even said they’d be calling the police.

I entered the podcast’s name into Google, but nothing came up. When I clicked the link she’d shared again, it was still a blank page.

For long minutes I stared at my computer.

With shaking hands, I wrote a message to Melody.

Hey Melody, that stream was really something else. You’re okay, though, right? It looked so real! People are even calling the cops. Are you sure you didn’t take it a bit too far?

I waited and waited and waited, but even after an hour, the message was still unread. She’s just keeping up the facade, I told myself. She’s just playing along.

When the message was still unread the next day, I told myself the same thing. After another day had passed; however, I started to have doubts.

By now it’s been almost a week. My message is still unread. There have been no new updates by Melody at all. In the last days, I reached out to her via email but got no answer either.

Yesterday I contacted the police and explained the whole thing. The woman on the line listened intently before she connected me to another officer. The man informed me that they’d received multiple calls about this stream already. There was an ongoing investigation, but as of now, he couldn’t give me any more details. I kept asking him what was going on, but he only repeated the same thing. In the end, I hung up in frustration.

An investigation, I thought. Did it mean what I’d seen was real? I thought back to Melody’s expression, the fear visible on her face and her passing out. If this was real, then… dear god had I actually watched as she was murdered?

I’m so lost right now. I tried to find out more about Melody, about what happened, but I don’t even know where she’s from! There’s nothing on the internet about it yet.

I’m writing this down now because this is a place for aspiring horror writers. I remembered what Melody had said. The producers of ‘The World of the Macabre’ had reached out to quite a few writers. I don’t know what exactly is going on here, but if they reached out to any of you, don’t reply. Don’t submit any stories. If you did, call the cops. You might be in grave danger.

I’m an IRL Streamer and Tonight Something Inexplicable Happened

I’m sure you all know about IRL streamers. There are so many stories about them on the internet right now. You’d have to live under a rock to not know about them.

For the past month, I’ve been doing these types of streams myself. I don’t have too many crazy stories to tell. Most of what happened was rather harmless. The only trouble I ever encountered was to get kicked out of a mall, but that’s about it.

It was about a month ago that I noticed I’d hit a dead end. Sure I had my core audience, earned a bit of money, but I couldn’t seem to reach any new people.

To change things up, I partnered with another streamer from my city, Sander. He’s a bit more popular than me, but neither of us are big names.

For a while, we’d just go out together and stream our antics, but we realized that this wasn’t it either.

Our idea was to actively include our audience in the streams.

Now here’s the thing. Most streamers are on Twitch. It’s without a doubt the most prominent platform. Sander and I were active on a different platform called YouNow. Maybe some of you have heard about it. What’s unique about the page is that you’re able to invite other people as guests into your stream. What happens is that it creates a split screen and you can interact with one another.

The first thing we did was to do a sort of treasure hunt. We let the audience decide where we’d go and see what would happen. Looking back, it was a pretty dumb idea. Sure, we checked the places out beforehand, but we were still trolled quite a bit. The worst that happened was us trespassing on private property. We got in quite a bit of trouble for that one.

After this ordeal, we decided to change our approach a bit. Our new idea was a bit more boring and conservative. We decided to do a sort of meet and greet with members of our audience. People could join our stream, we’d meet up with them and hang out with them for a while. It went quite well, most people absolutely loved the idea of being a part of our streams.

Tonight, things turned out a bit different.

For the past week, one of our subscribers had been really active in the stream and donated a good amount of money. When he asked to join the stream to hang out, we were more than happy to.

The moment we invited James, he was thrilled and excited.

He was a guy in his early twenties and lived in an apartment complex in the outer parts of town.

When we checked Google Maps, we saw it would take us almost a half hour to get there. There were no tram stations nearby, and after our last trouble with a bus driver, we decided to walk.

After a short tram ride, it would be another fifteen minutes to get to James’ place.

He told us to follow Main Street for about ten minutes until we reached Mendel Street. From there it wasn’t long before we’d arrive at an intersection. That’s were Cornelius Lane was. He was going to meet us there.

As we continued Sander and I noticed that the area was almost a bit too quiet. There were no people out in the streets, and we only saw a few parked cars here and there.

At first, we thought it was due to the late hours, it was almost ten in the evening. The further we walked though, the fewer and fewer the signs of people became. It seemed as if no one was living in the area.

“Yo, James, you sure you gave us the right address?” I asked.

“Yeah, why? Anything wrong?”

“Well, there’s no one living here. The whole area is a ghost town.”

“What? No way! Where are you guys right now?”

“Still on Main Street.”

“Then you’re on the right way. There are a few office buildings nearby, maybe that’s where you’re at.”

I looked around for a moment. Hadn’t we passed the office complex a couple minutes ago?

We continued on and joked about the whole situation with James and the audience. Soon enough, we reached Mendel Street, and the apartment complex James was living in. By now, we were walking in almost complete darkness. Only a few of the street lights in the area were working.

When Sander next to me checked out Google Maps, we saw that Cornelius Lane was no more than a few minutes away. I scanned the area, but there was still no sign of people.

“Alright, James, are you trolling us?”

“What? No fucking way, guys! I’ve wanted to be on your stream since forever so why-“

“Yeah, alright, you got us, man. Ha ha, very funny, you led us to an abandoned building complex.”

“Wait, no!” he said, startled. “Abandoned building complex? That can’t be. You must’ve taken a wrong turn or something. Wait, let me put on Google Maps and show you where you’ve got to go!”

With that, he started to tinker around with his streaming software and soon put a Map on the screen to show us his location.

“You see this? That’s where I live. So how far away are you guys? Maybe you missed Cornelius Lane or something.”

Sander scanned the Map on my phone screen and compared it to Google Maps on his. Everything checked out.

“Alright, man, but you live in a seriously weird area. Don’t you get the creeps living out here?”

“Out here? What are you guys talking about?”

“There’s no one here. The street lights aren’t working, there’s no cars and no people at all. How’d you end up in a place like this?”

“That makes no sense,” James said, perplexed, “there are tons of people living here. Take a look!”

With that, he moved his webcam towards the window and showed us the brightly lit adjacent building.

“See that? That’s Cornelius Lane!”

This was starting to get weird. Sander and I looked around, but we were in the dark and utterly alone. By now, it was evident that this guy was messing with us.

“Come on, man, just admit that you trolled us. You obviously faked your location and lured us out here to this creepy place. Well played, man. We’re out of here.”

“Guys, wait! I swear I’m not doing anything. Maybe your phones aren’t working, right? Maybe something’s wrong with your GPS.”

“Yeah, man, we really got no time for this. Thanks for the donations and all that. You got us good.”

“Freaking hold on! I swear, I’m not trolling you. Just hold on. I’ll get my phone, and I’ll come get you. I’ll be back in a sec!”

With that, he left the stream. Sander next to me sighed.

“Well, can’t say I’m surprised something like this happened. Let’s just get out of here. We got a lot of other people waiting to get on as well.”

By now, I saw that the whole chat was being spammed with laughing emoticons and messages telling us how dumb we were to fall for this.

Somehow though, the guy’s reaction and acting, it was almost too good. It had been so genuine.

“Let’s wait for a bit,” I started. “We came all the way out here, might as well see how this plays out.”

For a moment, Sander stared at me, giving me a ‘really man’ expression, but then he shrugged and continued to follow me. It wasn’t long before we arrived at the intersection. A street sign informed us that we were indeed at Cornelius Lane.

The whole complex was abandoned entirely. As I looked around, I saw that most of the buildings were in questionable condition. The windows were broken, and many of the entrances were boarded off.

“Let’s get out of here, man, this place gives me the creeps,” Sander pressed on.

I still insisted on waiting, and the moment I saw another request by James, I hit accept.

“Where the hell are you guys? I’m right here, but I don’t see anyone.”

I turned around and scanned the area, but we were still completely alone.

I looked at his stream again and saw that he stood in the middle of a busy apartment complex. The whole area around him was alight by street lights, and I could hear people in the background.

“Yeah man, just give it up, we’re-“

I broke off. I could see James’ face on the screen, but behind him, I saw a very familiar street sign. It was a bit too far away to read it, but I was sure I was mistaken.

“James, what’s that sign behind you?”

“I told you, Cornelius Lane.”

With that, he focused the camera on it, and I could read the same letters I saw right next to me. I couldn’t help but shiver.

“That’s impossible. Just to make sure, you’re living in the same city we are, right?”

“Hm? What the hell are you-?”

I cut him off right away and made him repeat the name of our city and the postal code. He laughed a bit and asked what was going on.

Sander and I hurried to show him the street sign.

“H-how the hell are you guys doing that? I can’t see you! Is this some sort of trick?”

“No, James. We’re right here. Look at Sander’s Google Maps.”

With that, Sander held his phone up right in front of mine. I saw James frown, but soon his face changed to confusion.

“Okay, but how come I don’t see you guys?”

“No freaking clue,” Sander mumbled next to me.

“Here, see, you’ve got to be somewhere else!”

He turned his camera around to slowly take in the whole area around him. I watched his camera feed, and every once in a while I looked up at the buildings around me.

There was his apartment building and the building behind that. Then he showed us the rest of Cornelius Lane and the small parking lot at the end. The next thing I saw was a small playground, and then he panned over more apartment buildings to our left. Everything was exactly the same. Only his version was bustling with activity, and ours was a freaking ghost town.

“James,” I started in a shaken voice. “We’re exactly where you are, only that it’s,” I held my breath for a moment before I spoke the word. “Different.”

James shook his head and started to laugh nervously. “Yeah, sure you are, guys.”

I didn’t say anything. Instead, I did the same thing James had done moments before. I used my camera to show him the entire area around me.

As I did, I saw his face contort from disbelief, to shock and finally fear.

“There’s no way. You guys are fucking with me! This is just,” he broke off for a moment, shaking his head again. “You recorded this somehow! There’s just no way…”

“James, look at this, we’re right in front of the same damn street sign! I’ve got no clue how any of this is possible.”

By now, I couldn’t help but be crept out by the absurdity of the situation. Whatever was going on here was freaking weird.

I turned my phone around and focused the camera on Sander and me standing right in front of the street sign.

I saw James camera shaking. He was panting and hurried back into his apartment. I could hear him mumble to himself over and over again.

“This is just some freaking troll. Seriously, fuck you guys. Fuck you for this shit. You’re not funny at all!”

He was out of it I realized as I watched. I felt goosebumps all over my body. “James we-“

“You guys got the wrong fucking area. I don’t know how you’re faking this, but it’s clear that you’re fucking with me!”

With that, James left the stream.

“Dude,” Sander pressed out right next to me.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” I said with a shaken voice.

We started to walk off, but soon enough, we started running.

“Shit, man, what the hell was that?” Sander asked me again and again, but I couldn’t answer him.

I called out to James yet again, but I got no reply. Meanwhile, the chat was exploding with activity. Some people were crept out as we were, other’s called us out for faking the whole encounter. There was no sign of James, though. For all I knew he’d signed off.

It wasn’t long before we arrived back at the tram station. We took the first line that would take us back to the city center.

There were a lot of other people who wanted to join the stream, either to meet up or to talk about the events of the night. We denied all of them and eventually called it a night.

On the tram, we tried to wrap our head around what had just happened, but we couldn’t. James’ area had been an exact replica of the one we’d been at. How the hell was something like that possible?

Sander started to talk about alternate realities, but I cut him off right away. I was not in the mood for any of these weird theories. Not right now.

When I was home, I looked up Cornelius Street online. There wasn’t much though. All I found was an old article about ongoing renovations in the early 90s and insufficient funds.

For all I knew, the area had been abandoned more than two decades ago.

Even now, I can’t sleep. I’m still too confused about what happened. Every time I think about it, I feel goosebumps all over my body.

I checked out YouNow once more. I searched for James’ profile, but I couldn’t find it anymore.

I told myself he’d deleted himself right after the stream. This was most likely an elaborate and complicated joke, I told myself. In a couple of days, I’d see myself in some dumb video on YouTube about streamers being trolled.

At least I hope things will turn out like that.

There’s one thing; however, James’ reaction. It was too real, too genuine for a fake.

The look of disbelief, of shock, and finally that of real terror still sends shivers down my spine. What the hell happened today?

Mr. Williams

A week after we’d officially moved into our new house, an older, lanky man appeared at our front door.

“Who is it?” my husband Joe called out from the living room, busy setting up furniture.

“An old man, probably a neighbor,” I answered.

With that, I went and opened the door.

“Hello there, nice to meet you! I’m Karen,” I greeted him.

I reached out my hand, but the man completely ignored it. For a few awkward seconds, he just stood there, staring at me, before he opened his mouth.

“Are you looking for a gardener?”

Okay, this is weird, I thought. Sure, we had a huge front yard and garden, but why did he turn up like this?

“Not really, thank you. Are you living nearby?”

“Yes, nearby. You sure you don’t need a gardener? I’d be happy to help you with that garden of yours.”

“I don’t think we need any help. We’re just settling in right now, and we can’t afford to-“

“You don’t have to pay me. I’d be happy to do it for free.”

“What?” I blurted out.

What the hell was up with this guy?

“Well, that garden looks like it needs some work, so-“

“Look, mister, I appreciate the offer. I really do, but I have to decline, all right?”

For a moment, his face grew hard, and I was sure he’d explode at me, but then he simply nodded and left.

“Well, have a nice day, too,” I muttered under my breath.

Once I’d closed the door, I joined Joe in the living room.

“So? Was it a neighbor?”

“Honestly? I’ve got no idea. That guy was pretty weird.”

I told Joe about the encounter, but he only laughed.

“Who knows, maybe he’s one of those people who can’t stand to look at an overgrown yard?”

In the end, we both shrugged it off, and when our daughter Sarah entered the room, I didn’t think about it anymore.

“Mommy, can you help me put up the pictures in my room?”

“Of course, honey,” I answered with a bright smile, and followed her upstairs.

The next day, I found Joe at the window, looking outside. He was cursing to himself.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. What the hell’s that guy doing?”

When I looked outside, I recognized the old man from the day before.

“That’s him! That’s the guy who was here yesterday.”

“Okay, I’ll go talk to him.”

With that, Joe made his way outside and approached the man. I quickly followed behind him.

“Excuse me?” Joe called out, his voice firm, but the man didn’t react.

Instead, he was busy cutting the hedge at the side of our garden.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

This time the old man turned to us, shears still in hand.

“Taking care of the hedge,” he stated matter-of-factly. “It really needed some trimming. See those branches here? They are-“

“Look, my wife told you yesterday we don’t need a gardener, okay? You can’t just come here and… do it on your own.”

The old man just smiled at him.

“Oh, you don’t have to pay me.”

“That’s not the point, all right?” Joe started, and I could hear him getting angrier. “Leave. Now. And if you show up again, I’m calling the cops.”

For a moment, his eyes wandered from Jo to me and back to Joe before he picked up his tools and walked off.

“Mommy, who was that?” Sarah called out from the front door.

“Oh, just someone living nearby,” I answered.

She nodded and accepted it in the way only little kids can.

“You think I should call the cops after all?”

I considered it, but then I shook my head.

“No, he’s pretty weird, but seems harmless. Only if he shows up again.”

As the days passed, we finally finished furnishing the house. At this point, I decided it was time to take care of the garden. The old man had been right. It really was unkempt, and I didn’t want him to show up again. I decided to start with some rose bushes. They’d always been a favorite of mine, and Sarah absolutely loved them. We had a lot of fun that afternoon planting them while Joe was at work.

When I went out again the next day, Sarah suddenly walked up to me.

“Mommy, the plants moved!” she called out in excitement.

I smiled at her and asked her what she meant. Instead of answering, she pointed at where we’d planted the rose bushes. My heart skipped a beat. They were empty, and nothing but soft soil was left. The rose bushes themselves had been replanted a couple of meters away. I told myself it must’ve been Joe, but he was at work. He didn’t have time for something like that. Then something in my mind clicked. Don’t tell me…

When Joe was home, I told him what I thought had happened. He was visibly upset, more so than I was.

“That’s it. We’ve got to do something about this,” he cursed.

He called the cops, and once they arrived, we told them about the whole thing. They were confused and weren’t sure if we were joking. We assured them, though, that a random man had been working in our garden. They took the story down, but told us there wasn’t much they could do. In the end, they told us to give them a call should the man show up again. As they drove off, I could imagine them having a good laugh at this weird story. Hell, even I thought the entire thing was ridiculous.

I couldn’t sleep that night. We hadn’t seen the man, so the only time he could’ve done it was when we were asleep. Again and again, I got up, walking over to the window, scanning the front yard and the garden, but I saw nothing.  It must’ve been past three in the morning when I finally dozed off.

When Joe woke me, I knew the man had been here again.

“He trimmed half the damned hedge,” he said as he led me to the window. “There you see it?”

He was right. The hedge on the left side of the garden was nicely trimmed. Even the twigs and branches he’d cut off were gone.

“This is just so strange,” I said, and couldn’t help but laugh. “What the hell’s wrong with that man?”

Joe didn’t say a thing. Instead, he went downstairs to make himself a cup of coffee, muttering to himself.

For the next couple of days, I kept an almost constant watch of the garden, but I never saw the man. It was as if he was waiting for us to fall asleep, only to sneak into our garden and… take care of it. By that point, he’d trimmed the hedges, mowed the grass, and had even planted a lilac in the center of the garden.

“You got to admit, it looks much better now,” I mumbled one morning, still half-asleep.

“That’s not the point,” Joe protested. “We can’t have someone sneaking into our garden in the middle of the night. What if he’s…? I don’t know a freaking weirdo or something?”

Eventually, Joe and I decided to both stay up. He was right. We really had to do something about this. It was about four in the morning when Joe rocked me awake.

“There he is!”

I saw him right away. He’d brought an assortment of gardening tools, a potted plant, and even fertilizer. For a moment, I watched, almost in a trance, as he dug a hole for the plant he’d brought. At this point, Joe had enough, and stormed out of the house. I ran after him, calling the police on my mobile phone.

“You… what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Joe yelled at the man.

“Taking care of the garden. You really didn’t-“

“All right, buddy, what the hell are you talking about? Why the hell are you in our garden at four in the freaking morning?” Joe laid into him, while I told the officers our address.

“I’m just turning the garden into what it used to be. The way she’d wanted me to.”

“What are you… she?”

“Maria, my little angel Maria,” he said in a low voice, smiling faintly, as his eyes wandered the garden.

“Who’s Maria?” I cut in.

The old man sighed before he put down his gardening tools.

“We used to live here, the Williams family. That was my wife and me, and our two daughters Lizzy and Maria. Maria, she was… sick, and couldn’t go out often, but whenever she did, she was always in the garden. That girl, she loved flowers more than anything,” he said, his voice somber. “She always said she wanted the garden to always stay like this, but…”

His voice trailed off, and we found him staring at nothing.

“But, what?” I asked.

“She passed away. After that… things weren’t he the same anymore. My wife couldn’t handle it. Our family broke apart, and she moved away, taking Lizzy with her. But I couldn’t… I had to stay, if only for Maria.”

I was puzzled when I heard this, but before I could interject anything, the old man went on.

“Eventually, I couldn’t pay the rent anymore, and was evicted. For the past fifteen years, I tried… I tried so many times. Whenever people moved into the house, I tried to talk to them, tried to restore the garden, but they always chased me away.”

He laughed a little after he’d said that.

“Now that I’m old, though, there isn’t much left for me. I just… really want to see my little girl happy again, wherever she is,” he ended.

By that point, the police had arrived. The two officers looked up when they saw us with the old man.

“So that’s the ominous gardener?” one of them asked.

Joe nodded.

“Sir, what are you doing here?”

“No, officer, I’m sorry, but it’s all right. We actually settled the issue just now,” I interjected.

The officers eyed me suspiciously, and Joe was equally surprised.

“What do you mean, miss?” one officer asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

“It was all just a misunderstanding. Mr. Williams here is our new gardener. I’m sorry, but I guess we got it all mixed up.”

The two of them were still confused, but eventually gave Joe and me a long lecture about wasting valuable police resources before they drove off.

“All right Mr. Williams, how about you come back tomorrow afternoon, and we have a talk about everything?” I finally asked.

The old man nodded, and after gathering his goods, left. Joe was still staring at me, and he protested, of course, but after having heard the old man’s story, I couldn’t just chase him away like all those other people had done.

The talk with Mr. Williams went nice. Sure, he was quite weird, but he didn’t seem unfriendly at all. Most importantly, he seemed to have a decent idea about what to do with our garden. In the end, I decided to give him a chance.

At first, I mostly watched him as he planted the flowers and bushes I’d bought for the garden. In time, though, I warmed up to him. Many afternoons, while Joe was at work, Sarah and I hung out with him and helped him with his work. Our little girl grew especially fond of the wacky old man. It wasn’t long before she absolutely adored him, and the old man, in turn, seemed to enjoy having her around.

On certain days, while I was reading a book on the front porch, I’d see the two of them joke around with one another. On another day, he’d be kneeling beside her, showing her how to plant the bulbs in that gentle, soothing voice of his.

Yet there were a few moments that made me slightly uneasy. Whenever he talked to her, he always stood closer to her, almost too close, his hand resting on her shoulder or her head. Occasionally, I’d catch him staring at her for a tad bit too long. Sometimes, he’d even take her hand, leading her around the garden, as he explained the meaning of the flowers to her. Eventually, the old man seemed to notice my unease, and walked up to me, giving me this reserved smile, clearly embarrassed about it.

“She’s just like my little Maria, so sometimes, I feel like back then, when she was still around…”

“Oh god, Mr. Williams, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-“

The old man smiled and just shook his head.

“No Karen, it’s all right. It’s just… hard, you know?”

I guess that was when I truly bonded with the old man. While he was weird, he seemed one of the sweetest people I’d ever met, the perfect babysitter for Sarah. That’s why I left her with him last Saturday. Joe was busy working on one of his many work related projects. When I was about to prepare dinner, I noticed we’d run out of a few things.

“Sarah, do you want to come with me to the grocery store?”

“Nuh-uh. I want to stay with Mr. Williams and the flowers!” she answered, pouty.

The old man and I both had a good laugh about it.

“You sure you can handle this little devil all by yourself?” I asked, turning to the old man.

“Of course. I could use a few helping hands with all this work anyway,” he said with a big grin on his face.

At the grocery store, I ran into one of our neighbors, an old woman named Linda.

“Karen,” she greeted me. “I must say, you’ve really outdone yourself with that garden of yours!”

“Oh, thank you, but it wasn’t me. It was our new gardener.”

“Either way, it’s beautiful. I’m sure little Lizzy would’ve been happy to see it like that.”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

“Oh, Karen, it’s such a sad story. Back in the day, a family lived in that house, and one of the girls died right there in that garden.”

“I know about the story, but her name was Maria, wasn’t it?”

“Maria? No. Maria was always sick, but Lizzy was the one who broke her neck when she fell off that tree.”

What the hell was she talking about? This made no sense. Mr. Williams had told us he did it all for his daughter Maria, and that she’d been the one who died. I even remember how he told me all about that unfortunate fall because of one of her dizzy spells.

“But Mr. Williams said it was Maria who’d died there.”

“That’s impossible, dear,” the old lady said in a confused voice. “Mr. Williams died three years ago?”

“But… He’s right there, at our house! He’s our gardener!”

The old lady’s face turned as white as a sheet.

“No. Karen. That’s impossible! Old Mr. Williams died at the retirement home. I was at the funeral and…”

I didn’t listen anymore, I couldn’t. If Mr. Williams was dead, then who was that man in our garden? Why this entire story? Why pretend to be him? Then I thought about Sarah. The way he’d talked to her, the way he’d played and joked with her, and the way he used to lead her around the garden. How he’d always watched her. Oh god, I thought he’d seen his daughter in her, but, but…

I rushed from the story without any of the groceries and dialed Joe’s number. Come on, come on, please answer the phone, Joe! Finally, after a dozen rings, he answered.

“Joe! Where are you? Where’s Sarah?” I screamed into the phone.

“She must be out in the garden with Mr. Williams? Why, what’s-?”

“Go and get her!”

“Karen, what’s-?”

“Just do it, Joe! Go and get her!”

I heard him walk through the house and finally open the front door. Oh please let her bet here, please.

“Sarah? Sarah, where are you?”

“Joe, what’s going on?”

“I can’t see her. Sarah!”

“Joe, where’s Mr. Williams?”

I heard him shuffle around, calling out for the old man, then again for our daughter. With every second, his voice grew more and more agitated.

“I can’t find them, Karen. Where-?”

That’s when I hung up and called the police. I was in hysterics at this point, screaming into the phone and having to repeat myself multiple times before they understood what was going on. When they finally did, they were as alarmed as me and sent out multiple patrols to search the area.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for them to find Sarah and Mr. Williams, or whoever the man was. They’d been holding hands, and he’d already led her halfway down the street, just a few hundred meters away from an abandoned warehouse. Only a block, I thought, when I heard this, only a block and I might have lost her forever.

When the police took him in, they found out who the man really was. His name was Tom Edwards. He was a registered sex offender from half a state away. The man had arrived in our town about a month ago. He’d stayed at a cheap, rundown motel nearby. It was by sheer chances he saw us move in and also noticed Sarah. When he learned about the history of the house, he hatched a plan. Knowing we’d just moved in, and wouldn’t be aware of the story, he decided to pretend to be old Mr. Williams. That day, when I went grocery shopping, he finally got his chance.

At the warehouse, the police found a dirty mattress hidden in a small room at the back, but also a variety of twisted items, he’d… prepared. Rubber gloves, anesthesia, rope, and other things I wish they’d never told me about.

Even now, days later, I can’t stop thinking about that horrible afternoon. And I can’t help but wonder about one thing: what would have happened to our little girl if he hadn’t mixed up the names?

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GenSearch

I first stumbled upon GenSearch in an IRC chat room.

While most people think IRC is dead and a remnant of the past, it’s still very much alive. The user base has shrunk quite a bit though. Most people moved on to more modern platforms.

I’m one of those people who still use IRC quite a bit. I blame it mostly on a slight case of paranoia. I never trusted the modern tech giants, and after the whole NSA thing, my doubts increased tenfold.

Not that I don’t use Google or Social Media, but most of my time is spent on encrypted IRC servers talking to other people as paranoid as me.

A few months ago, back in January, I hang out on there when I suddenly got a private message from a random user. When I opened it I read the following:

GenSearch is the search engine of the future. Forget about Google. Find tomorrows search results today.

Attached to it was a cryptic link with the string GenSearch in it. At first, I ignored it. This sounded way too fishy. After a while, though I grew a bit more curious.

After all, I knew what to do if it was malware and how to get rid of it.

When I clicked the link, prepared from my system to momentarily evaporate, I was brought to a bare bone website. There was only the name, GenSearch, on it and a simple search bar.

For a moment I considered closing the page, but then I decided to give it a try. After a few seconds, I decided to look up news about The Sinking City. Ever since its announcement I’d been obsessed about the game.

When I saw the search results, I looked up.

One talked about the troublesome launch of a bug ridden game.

Another one talked about the developers not living up to their promise to deliver a bug fix within a week of the launch.

The rest of the results were similar in nature, talking about missed chances and a launch failure.

Wait a second, the game is out already? I opened up steam right away. Damn those reviewers, if the game was out I had to play it! When I searched for it on Steam though, something was strange. It said the game wasn’t out yet and the estimated date of release was 2020. What the hell?

I went back to GenSearch and rechecked the results, but they all talked about the launch of the game. Hell, I even found a review of it.

A bit confused I went to Google to search for the game as well. The results there were completely different. There were no articles about the game’s launch. All I found was information about the games upcoming release, trailers and promos. Why the hell did GenSearch tell me it was out already?

Maybe all the articles on GenSearch were shuffled content to trick users?

I slowly scrolled to the bottom of one of the articles. There was the name of the author and next to it the posting date.

It said the article was from the 2nd of July 2019, but that made no sense at all. That was months from now. Even more confused I opened up another article. Once again the posting date was from July of 2019. By now I was almost sure this had to be some elaborate troll, but how the hell would the thing know I’d searched for the game?

Then I remembered the weird message I’d gotten: Find tomorrows search results today.

I shook my head and laughed. I was being stupid.

I decided to enter the term ‘current news’. What I was greeted with was nothing but news reports from the future. One was from a few days from now, yet others were from months into the future. This was ridiculous.

For a while I sat there staring at the page, trying to wrap my mind around it. Then I got an idea. I searched for news reports in my local city. As I scrolled through mostly irrelevant bits and pieces, I finally read about a tram accident. When I clicked the link, I was brought to a news article about a man who was hit by a tram and had been badly hurt.

I went back to Google, but there was nothing about the accident. Nothing at all. The only accident involving trams that showed up was from more than a year ago.

Well, guess that settles it. Nothing but a content scrapper or shuffler. Quite a bit of work, I had to admit. What I wondered about was who’d go to such length to fuck with people, but I guess that’s the internet for you.

It was a couple of days later that I got a bad case of Deja-vu. During my break at work, I had a quick look at the local newspaper. I’d gone through the first few pages when I read a headline about a tram accident. I shivered when I started to read it. I knew this story. I’d read it before, hadn’t I?

It was at this point that I remembered the result on GenSearch. This couldn’t be. How in the hell was something like this even possible? Had I really found a freaking search engine that showed me… the future?

Once I was home, I did the same thing I’d done before. I looked up news articles on GenSearch. I even took screenshots of my findings and decided to see what would happen.

After a few days, I couldn’t deny it anymore. Every single one of these future news articles came to pass. It was utterly bizarre.

It didn’t take me long for a new idea to pop into my mind. Couldn’t I use this to my advantage?

Before I could follow this train of thought my phone started to ring. It was my good friend Thomas. Wondering what he wanted I answered the phone.

“Erik, I’ve got some amazing news! We finally did it, we got our first big gig!”

“Holy shit, are you serious?”

“Yes, and it’s at the Factory of all places! This is going to be huge, really huge! You want me to put your name on the guest list? Fuck, this could be our big break man, this could be it!”

For as long as I can remember Thomas and his band were trying to get booked in one of the bigger clubs in our city. Until now all they’d gotten were rejections. He was right though, if this went well, it could be their big chance. The Factory was pretty much the most popular club in our city. If they could make it there, they had a bright future ahead of them.

Once he hung up, I looked at the search bar of GenSearch again. For a moment I hesitated, but then I looked up the name of his band and the club.

When I looked up at the search results one stuck out to me right away.

‘Live Event at The Factory Canceled – Band Member Severely Injured after Traffic Accident’

What the hell? When I started to read the article I learned that the band got into a terrible traffic accident. The bassist had to be hospitalized, and the event at the club had to be canceled.

Holy shit what the hell was this? A freaking traffic accident, but how? There was nothing else mentioned in the article!

For the next two days, I was all pins and needles. Was this even real? Was something actually going to happen? And if so, what the hell could I do? I used GenSearch again and again, but I found nothing else. I thought about warning Thomas and the band, but what should I tell them? That they weren’t supposed to go to their first big gig? Yeah right!

Once Saturday arrived, I couldn’t calm down. Thomas invited me to hang out with the band before they went to the club. Instead of drinking and chit-chatting with them, I was completely nervous and still trying to come up with what to tell them.

“Yo, an hour till we’ve got to get going guys,” Thomas called out, “Mark, you’ll drive, right?”

“Yeah sure, only got two drinks, I’m pretty much sober,” he answered laughing.

I almost jumped up when I heard this. Was this how they’d get into the accident? I had to do something!

“Wait, no, you can’t drive!” I called out nervously.

Everyone in the room turned to me and eyed me with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. Shit, now I’ve done it.

“Eh, I heard that the cops started to crush down on drunk driving recently. Ever since that accident a couple weeks ago they take anyone who drinks alcohol before driving straight to the station. If they stop us, there won’t be any gig!”

“Fuck man, don’t be such a pussy, it’s only two drinks. Not like anything will happen,” Mark the drummer spat at me.

“Tell that to my friend Stefan,” I started to make up a story. “He did the same thing and got into a lot of trouble. They kept him at the station until morning. What if they-“

“Fuck your friend and fuck your stupid story. Who the hell even are you to-“

“Alright guys, calm down,” Thomas started. “We’ve got all the equipment at the club already, right? Why do we have to take the car anyway? If Erik’s right and the cops really are up to something like that, let’s not jinx it.”

After a bit more arguing with the rest of the band, and a few angry glances into my direction, the issue was settled. We’d take the tram to the nearest station and walk the rest of the way to the club.

Once we arrived though, we had to walk a good ten minutes. By then we were in quite a hurry to make it in time.

“See, that’s the reason I wanted to take the freaking car, asshole,” Mark called out to me once more. I didn’t reply anything. Instead, I kept my distance from him.

It happened five minutes later. By then we were all pretty drunk. We were crossing a street in front of a taxi when Andrew the band’s bassist tripped. He fell down right in front of the path of the approaching car.

The taxi driver hit the brakes and tried to swerve the car, but he still ended up hitting Andrew. The bassist came to a crashing rest a meter or so in front of the car. He didn’t move at all.

For a second silence descended before all hell broke loose. While everyone, including the taxi driver, rushed towards Andrew, I froze.

No freaking way. There was no freaking way. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was precisely what I tried to prevent, so why? Why did it still happen? Don’t tell me it’s because I did…

“Fuck, are you listening, Erik? Hey?” Thomas called out to me, but I was still in utter shock.

“This wasn’t supposed to,” I started but broke up when Mark came up to me.

“It’s because of your goddamn idea! If we’d just taken the car, then none of this would’ve happened!”

“Say something asshole!” he screamed at me. Then he hit me right in the face. As I stumbled back, he stared at me.

“Shouldn’t have listened to your shit! It’s because of you that Andrew is… Fuck!”

The ambulance and the police arrived a few minutes later. It was pure luck that Andrew had survived the collision and he was taken to the hospital right away. The rest of us was ushered to the police station to give our statements.

To be honest, I can’t remember what I told them. Most of what happened after the accident is a blur. There was only one thing on my mind. Did I cause this to happen? Was it because I tried to prevent the accident or was it… because I searched for it to begin with?

The next day I couldn’t do a thing. I sat in front of my computer, merely staring at the screen.

GenSearch.

What the hell was this page? I opened it up once more and typed something into the search bar, but couldn’t bring myself to hit enter. No. What if I was causing something else to happen?

And then another thought hit me. I thought about all the bad things I’d read in articles on there. Had I been causing all of them? Without another second I closed the damned page. There’d be no more tinkering with it.

Yesterday, for the first time in months I went on it again.

An old friend of mine from high school, Steve, was in the city and we’d decided to hang out for old times’ sake. We had a few drinks and talked about old times when Steve suddenly went to the computer.

“Got to show you something.”

With that, he typed the name of one of our old classmates into Google. He scanned the search results but then frowned.

“What are you doing?” I asked him a bit puzzled.

“Hold on, Google’s a bitch, need to use Bing for this.”

He opened up Bing and entered the name again.

“Hah. Look at this! The guy’s name comes up in this weird fetish forum! I always knew he was into some weird shit.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a bit, but then I shrugged. “Why the hell would you look him up?”

“Dunno, it’s a bit fun to see what people are up to nowadays.”

“You know you could just add them on Facebook or drop them a message.”

“Nah that would be boring. Want me to do you next? I’m sure you got some weird stuff out there as well.”

A bright grin showed on his face.

“Go right ahead, you won’t find a thing. Got to go to the toilet anyways.”

While I was on the toilet, he called out to me.

“Hey man, what’s up with this weird search engine you’ve bookmarked? The dates are all messed up!”

“Wait, what are you…? Dude leave that alone!”

“What? I can’t hear you out there!”

Goddamnit Steve, I cursed as I made my way back.

“Yo, this is freaky! Look what kind of stuff comes up when I search for you!” he called out to me again.

No way. He didn’t. I rushed back to the computer, but when I saw the screen, I knew he was on GenSearch. And there, in the search bar was my own freaking name.

Below I read the title of a search result that Steve was now pointing at.

“Mysterious Death of Young Man Puzzles Authorities”

Before I could do anything, Steve clicked the article.

“The death of young Erik M. puzzles authorities after the body was found-“

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I screamed at him and pushed him away from the computer. “Why in the hell did you go on that page?!”

“Hey calm down, you said I wouldn’t find a-“

At that point, I freaked out and pushed him again, this time harder. I was about to scream at him again, but then I looked at the screen. I scrolled down until a picture came up. There was no doubt about it, I was staring right at my own face.

“You know what, it’s just a sick joke. Maybe one of those band guys you told me about put it up? Look,” he came up and pointed at the screen, “Just scroll down here and-“

“Get the fuck away from the computer!” I screamed at him again.

Steven backed away and gave me a hard look.

“You know what? I didn’t come over here for this. You got some serious issues, dude. To get so worked up over something like that.”

With that, he turned around and left the room. I didn’t go after him or say a word when he left. I was still staring at my screen.

This couldn’t be real. Why did this article exist? Why was I in it?

I’m now sitting here in front of my computer. I read the article over and over again, but there are no specifics about my supposed death three days from now. Nothing at all.

I’m freaking scared now. If this thing truly shows you a future you can’t prevent, then what can I do?

What the hell can I even do?

I Found Something Very Strange on Instagram

I really love Instagram. It’s probably the app I spent most of my time on.

I don’t have a big following or anything, but I love to share pictures. Guess, it’s pretty normal for a teenage girl like me.

In my time on Instagram, I saw my share of weird things.

There was, of course, the spam bots and fake accounts who would comment on your content. Then there was nudity and pornography. For a site that has a strict policy against this, you sure stumble upon a lot of it.

There was one thing that was a bit creepier. There was a guy who had a crush on my friend Lisa. We found his Instagram by accident and saw that he’d shared dozens of pictures of her on the account.

Two weeks ago though, I found something else that was way more creepy.

It was an account by the name of cutzieee52. It didn’t have a lot of followers, but it had posted a fair amount of pictures.

At first I thought it was a regular account. When I scrolled through the pictures, I saw that they were all of young girls. Probably the account of some guy who posted pictures of girls he found attractive, I thought.

As I continued to scroll through the account, I realized that they were all my age or even younger. After a while, I noticed something even more unsettling. All the pictures were unprofessional and seemed to have been taken in secret.

Here was a picture of a blond girl on her way to school. There was a picture of a brown haired girl on a bus. It continued on like that. What the hell was this? Was this the account of some creepy stalker or something?

I decided to check out the comments on the newest picture. It was of a young girl with dark hair at a train station. I already knew what I’d find: lots of perverted comments.

When I started to read through I found none of that. All I saw were smiles and thumbs-up. I’d have written it off as nothing but spam if not for the numbers. In-between all the spam a random number would be posted. The first one was 300, followed by 500 and going all the way up to 1200.

When I clicked on one of the many posters all I found was either an empty profile or a suspended one.

I continued on with the other pictures, but all I found was more of the same. Spam and numbers, nothing else.

In the end, I told myself it was the account of some perverted creep and left it alone.

To be honest, I’d completely forgotten about it until today.

I’d gotten home from school and was about to check my emails. I use one of the popular German email providers. It’s one of those pages that is stacked with news bulletins and other ‘recommended’ articles. Most of it is rubbish or celebrity gossip.

Today though I saw that one article was about a missing young girl. As I clicked it, I read that young, fifteen-year-old Emily H. had been missing for a few days now. The girl had apparently vanished near a train station on her way to school. There was something about her picture though. I had seen it somewhere before, but I couldn’t say where. Maybe in a newspaper?

It was later that day, in the evening that I went on Reddit to search for something interesting. It was half an hour later that I had found a thread about one of those weird internet mysteries. When someone mentioned Instagram, I suddenly remembered the creepy account I’d seen two weeks ago.

It took me a while of searching through my history, but I found it again. I was about to copy the link and start a thread when I noticed something.

The latest picture of the account. The dark haired girl at the train station. As I stared at it, I knew why I’d recognized the fifteen-year-old girl in the news article.

This was her. This was Emily H. the young girl that was missing. I checked the comments once more, but it was all the same, spam and numbers.

What the hell was this? I was so utterly crept out.

I copied the link of the profile and sent it to one of my friends via WhatsApp, but she didn’t read it.

“Damnit, Nicole, check your stupid phone!” I cursed.

It was half an hour or so later that she finally read the message.

Oh, miss popular has got another stalker, hasn’t she?

As I read it, I didn’t know what she was talking about.

Wait, what do you mean Nicole? Do you know that girl?

No reply. I sent her another message and then another one. Finally, I called her.

“Oh Marie, what’s up?” she answered the phone.

“Nicole! What are you talking about? You know the girl in the picture?”

“Well duh, dummy, I’d recognize you anywhere!”

As she said this the phone almost dropped from my hands.

“What the hell are you talking about!?”

“That picture of you! Guess some creeper has a crush on you. Isn’t that just like what happened to Lisa back in…?”

I didn’t listen anymore. What the hell was she talking about?

“Marie, hey, you still there?” I heard her call out to me.

With shaking fingers, I clicked on the link again. With each passing second, I cursed at my computer to load the profile. When it finally did the phone dropped from my hands. Right there, at the top of the profile, there was a new picture. It was me standing in front of a store in the mall. It was from this afternoon.

When I checked the comments, I saw the same thing I’d seen before, smileys and numbers. They were all posted recently. I refreshed the page and saw the numbers climb up.

Finally though, after I refreshed it again and again, I got an error message.

Sorry, this page isn’t available.

Whatever I tried, nothing turned up anymore. Searching for the account name on Google or any other information, nothing turned up. For all, I know the account, the account is completely gone.

I’m sitting here now typing this out. I can’t make sense of what I found there. I keep telling myself that this was just the account of some pervert or stalker. That picture of Emily though… Those numbers… It’s all way too strange. I’m starting to think that there’s something terrible going on.

Please, everyone, tell me that it’s just my imagination. Tell me that nothing is going on there.

Tell me that I’m not in danger.

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