Shh. I’m hiding. Hiding from him. I can see him through the crack in the doors. He came a few minutes ago. Of course, he was invited in – who would think a family friend would be capable of such…horror? He walked in and stood there – looking at my family with a chilling smile on his face. Something about that smile…it was inhuman. I felt uneasy and wanted to get away from him; a strange thought since he and I had been very close since I was young.

Of course, his eyes didn’t change colour. It’s not like TV – where things happen on a whim. He extended his hand and calmly ripped off my fathers left arm. Blood literally painted the walls for a few minutes – accompanied by our shocked screaming. My mother screamed for a reason he was doing this. He shrugged and laughed. He said that he had to do this for humanity to survive. It sounded crazy – but what was even crazier was what happened next. My brother had grabbed a hooked iron poker from the fireplace and swung it at the “friend”. The hook sunk into the left side of his face and stuck fast. Of course, the friend didn’t show any sign of pain – not even a grimace.

Oh crap, I think he saw me…no, nothing. I don’t even dare to breathe a sigh of relief. He’ll hear me. I can see the gaping hole in his head. He calmly batted my brother away – sending him flying into the red-splattered wall. He’s dead, I’m sure of it – he spasmed violently as he hit and slid down in a boneless heap. Whatever it was – it took hold of the poker and pulled it down. God, it was horrible; but I need to calm myself. Thinking about it will make me dry heave – and that’s what almost got me caught the last time. The hole stretches from just below his left eyebrow to just above the chin. There’s nothing there anymore that would resemble a face. No eye, no lips and only a few scattered teeth. Christ – I can see to his brain!

I freaked out at that point. I ran to the kitchen cupboard and somehow managed to climb in. I heard my mother screaming in pain. God, it was a sound of terror; unbearably cut short and punctuated by a wet slapping. He just laughed again and announced that he was doing everyone a public service by killing us. I couldn’t help it; I screamed out that he was a monster. He laughed and yanked open the door, murmuring that he was no monster; that he was just doing what they told him to. Yeah, but then he got a faceful of fresh vomit. That’s how I managed to escape. Kinda gross, but it’s the only weapon I have against him.

He’s coming closer now. I can hear his footsteps. How did he manage to find me? I was so quiet! He’s taunting me. How does he know where I am? I can’t fight him, I’m too weak against him. He’s laughing at something, what is he laughing about? He’s mumbling to himself again. Something about always knowing where I am. Oh god, he’s right outside. Don’t breathe, don’t blink, stay perfectly still…

I’m not ready to die. He’s not moving. I’m not ready to die, to face him…to do pretty much anything. And then I hear something that chills me to my bones.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready”