The Oddities

To whom ever receives this:

This, friend, is my last night alive on this plane of existence. I have heard through the rustling of the leaves, the susurrus of the night, that I will not escape my plight. They speak to me every night, the Oddities. The men, the women, and the children of the night speak to me and tell me they will abduct me and devour my entire entity. These whispers, these faint stabs at my sanity have driven me to record this.

Please do not take these words lightly. For weeks they have gotten louder and louder. The voices have gotten closer and with each passing hour of the night I swear I can hear them running through my room. Running up my walls. Slamming my floorboards and scratching at my windows. Why, one night I even saw one. I SAW ONE! It ran past my window, a child, it had to be. It’s little black body climbed up my wall in my pitch black room. I heard and tracked its breathing until it crossed the light the moon cast upon my floor. As it entered the light it stopped and stood to its feet. What was once a crawling mass of what I believed to be flesh, rose to an immense height, stretching all the way to my ceiling! A considerable jump, if I do say–

Forgive me. I heard them. They spoke my name. They are calling for me to come outside… I won’t go. I won’t I cannot I have to finish. The little thing GREW to at least 15 feet and from it sprouted what looked like flowers and stems and roots and branches. It whispered for me to accept my fate and walk outside. I screamed at it. I screamed a shrill of an insane, tormented soul. It immediately shrunk down and crashed out my window. I swear I experienced this. I swear, I swear I swear I swear I swear I swear.

Forgive me. I must. Compose. Myself.

God, I hear them louder… A bigger one, on my rooftop. Knocking. Knocking. They know I hate the knocks. I hear creaks all throughout my home now. A harmonious melody that is fit only for a circus. I am beginning to reek, I cannot leave my house. The trees, I haven’t spoken about the trees! They are moving. They have moved ever so close to my house. Not over the decades I’ve lived here, no no no no no no nonononononono. Over the past WEEK they HAVE MOVED over. They have uprooted and now stand in front of my house. I used to be able to see the hilltop where I used to play as a child, but now the oak I used to play in fills my entire window. Am I going insane…

?

They are inside now. I felt a dramatic drop of temperature, they trespassed through my front door. MINE. The knocking, knick knocking, blick blocking. They are inside. I can’t take this, I cannot. I feel another scream surmounting inside. I want to give up. But I have heart. Hearth. Hearth….

I had to move, ever, so, cleverly, cautiously, connivingly into the bathroom. My last stand. It would be the shitter, yes.. Yes yes yes, it would be yesyes yes. I have so much to do and yet. No time, in which to, do it, in. They broke a glass down stairs and are scratching at my bedroom door.. The knocking followed me into the bathroom. I guess he heard me moving.

Hmm…

How peculiar.. Could that be?

This new sound they have emitted. They are… laughing.?

My bedroom door has been busted down. The laughing has turned to screaming. They are screaming and laughing and whispering and talking and breathing and knocking and coming. They scream like men.

Maybe I’m screaming.

This is it. I will leave it at this. This is the end. This is the conclusion. This is my last breath. I will not kill myself. I will not. My finger is on the trigger, but for them not me. Not me. Please not me. Please not me, not me, not me, for them, for them, for them not me, for me. For me.

They are sending some kind of insect inside. They stink terribly, but won’t approach me… I wonder why… Why do I even wonder, I wonder.. I am done.

They are breathing under the door. They are playing with the knob. I should probably hide in the shower, but what difference will that–

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