that thing

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

i haven't finished, this is my first short story and this is before revising

That Thing 

By "That Man" 

"These are the last words of one Grant Tompson, on October 2nd 2017...", the boy as lying there accepting his death as That Thing came closer. "It’s coming after me. I don't know what to do besides warn others about the danger that could befall them." 

It was a typical September day. Wake up, go to school, hang out with friends and head home. Once I got off the bus with my friend, Dylan, it showed up, That Thing showed up. 

"Dude, do see that," as I pointed to it. It had hair darker than black. Darker than the emptiness of space, it's as if I were to put my hand into it, my hand will never reach an end. It had skin whiter than the clouds, you could probably go blind from looking at him. Luckily, or maybe not, he carried a red umbrella to stop the blinding light from shining. It had white eyes, emptier than the white clear plains of Heaven, that looked like they would stretch for miles. 

"I don’t see anything man. You goin' crazy." 

"You sure? You're sure you don't see that thing?" 

"Yeah, I'm sure man. Nothing there." 

"Probably just got a headache," and we just walked away, but I kept my eyes on it till I get home. Even then I felt that I wasn't safe, I felt its presence. So, I did what any sane person would do and looked it up online. 'Pale man with black hair and umbrella standing', of course all I found were watermarked images, but I searched harder. All I found after hours of searching was a photo or a silhouette of a man it wasn’t normal. Weird lines of light warping into a shape of a "man", translucent yet wavy. I went to the website and found an article about weird sightings of a man watching from a distance, and doing nothing. 

Since then, my sightings of the thing happened more, and more often. I kept a journal tracking where it is, how long it stays, and how it appearance changes. Each time, it gets a little less flush but with a red drop on him each time. It’s always around 20 meters away, staying only 10 minutes at a time until it goes behind a corner and disappears 

September 30, I decided to follow it and make sure it doesn’t leave my sight. I manage to follow it into the city and into an alleyway. But then suddenly, a scream. Then another, and another, and a louder one. I drop my book on the ground and run the direction it's coming from. I turn through the maze of alleyways, twisting turning, until. I made it. I see that thing, that monster biting the little boy, I stare in horror. Frozen, stuck in place, no stuck in time. No movement, nothing, but its head turned. He came, moving so fast that there was just a blur. Left, right, left, right, right in front of me. It opens its jaw, revealing rows upon rows of teeth. As the jaws close down, it and I hear a noise, a rustle. It turns around, blurs to the boy, picks him up, and blurs away. The things gone, time is unfrozen, and I am left in silence, and horror. 

I didn't sleep that night, I stayed up till dawn, and even then, I didn't sleep but then I see it more and more, once an hour, ½ the distance from where it was before, stayed twice as long. The next day, I stayed home. I went to the kitchen for a simple snack, but when I turned around, I turned straight into it, less than an inch. I stood frozen, frozen still once again. It opened its jaw, same as before, but in his eye, was fury. Bright orange eyes replaced the white empty ones, he was covered in blood without him even talking I knew why he was mad. He was angry, infuriated that someone found him, caught him doing its deeds. 

He brought down his jaws, chomping my left arm just barely missing the neck. I screamed in pain, but no sound. I bled with no blood moving out. I felt the pain, stronger than it would've been without frozen time, but at the same time, I realized, I could move. I grabbed the knife next to me and stabbed it in the leg. It screeched in pain making the most high-pitched voice I've ever heard, I limped away to safety and grabbed a towel to hold off the bleeding a little. I looked out the door and saw birds, birds flying. I pulled out my phone and called up Dylan. 

"Dylan! I need your goddamn help right now!" 

"Woah slow down what happened." 

"I can't explain right now, just get your truck and come here! NOW!" 

I hear a crash of metal as that thing limps toward me, with everything crashing as he walked past. I run outside to the edge of my neighborhood where I see Dylan stopping yelling at me to hurry. I hop into the car we drive off as I start explaining what was happening. 

"So, this 'thing', has been staring you down for 2 weeks and has bitten your arm and you don’t want me to take you to the hospital?" 

"Yeah that’s about it. Take me to your place, your mom's a doctor, right? I need some stitches now." 

We pull up to his house and bust through the door, cleared off a table and called for Dylan's mom to get stitches. 

"Oh my god. Grant what did you do this time!" 

"This giant dog jumped on me and bit me." 

"Grant, what are you-" 

"Dylan, she won't believe me if I told her," we whispered to each other. 

Dylan's Mother patched me up, and I stayed over just to be safe. We got his father's shotgun, and a bunch of knifes, and hid Dylan's room. It was 2 am when it came, we heard the bumps as it came up. It kept whispering to us, "Come one kids, come one... I'm fun.", Dylan pulls out the knifes and hides behind the door. The door slammed open, he ran in. Dylan jumped on its back, and stabbed him in the shoulder blades. It shrieked again and picked up Dylan through the air, without touching her. It throws its arms back, and tosses Dylan into the wall. I run to Dylan, and cocked the shotgun, pointing the gun at it. I pull the trigger, all blasts hit its face. He stumbles back, and trips backwards while he melts through the floor while falling on his heels. I go to Dylan and try to help, she was choking. I tried to do the -----. It wouldn't work... I called 911 and had them come here, saying there was a woman choking, and that there was... was... a dead body. I walked into the closet and waited for it to return. I started to go to my camera, and record. I started simple. "These are the last words of one Grant Tompson, on October 2nd 2017... ".

The End

Submitted: October 03, 2017

© Copyright 2020 That Man. All rights reserved.

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