This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Cheap_Bad_8540 on 2024-09-19 14:29:23+00:00.

Dear Ma,

I wanna preface this by saying I love you and it may be a while before I see you again.

Janey and I celebrated eight years together as of a few months ago, and Charles just turned two this Fall. We held a small function with some of the other families in town. Albury has a small population, around about 200 people. 

Regardless, Charles was spoiled rotten. Many wooden toys was thrown his way, and he cherished them all.

It would appear that the town had a heart of gold.

Nothing makes you feel more proud than when you can see your baby boy smile like I did.

And the day of the function was the happiest I’d ever seen Janey in the last 5 years.

After Matthew’s untimely passing, I thought I’d never see her smile again. 

Honestly, I thought our marriage wouldn’t survive it.

Janey and I’s new property has been serving us well. The acreage is perfectly sized, and harvests have been plentiful. I’d recently built up a shed for all my tools, and a smaller, makeshift cubby for Charles to play in. Sometimes I’d catch him copying me, whether it’d be hammering some nails or sawing some timber. 

He’d often ask, through a series of assertive grunts, if he could use a real tool. He hasn’t spoken yet, but if I was a betting man, I’d reckon ‘Daddy’ would be the first thing out his mouth.

Things have been looking up the last few months, but truth be told, we’ve been having issues with livestock. 

Over the last few weeks, I’d noticed some of our cattle had gone missing. At first, I thought some lowlife had been sneaking in at night and stealing them from right under our noses. 

Then, I found the bodies. 

I’d taken the horse out by the river which runs straight out to a large inlet. It’s situated about 20 acres out from our house, just down on the south end. 

Sprawled, up along the riverbank, were about 6 of our 9 bovines. Now, you’d assume these animals had gone stupider (If that were even possible) and drowned themselves, either intentionally or not. 

But they had been killed. Massacred.

They had been freshly killed, within days of disappearing. Their innards - either missing or washed up on the other side of the bank.

Some of the cattle were even missing limbs. Their heads were viciously torn from shoulders and their legs… jagged and crooked.

I don’t mean to upset you with the details, but I find it necessary to include them.

Now, obviously, we’ve got a Gator problem. Countless times I’d seen gators pulling in small game through the river, and sometimes even coming out to chase. But I’d never seen a mass grave of this proportion, this quickly.

Janey and I suffered economically for this, and we’d needed to replace those animals that died over time. I spent a couple of days building a makeshift fence to prevent future incidents - some of the local gentlemen even offered to help out for free. I insisted we paid them somehow, and they agreed that something to satisfy their hunger would do just fine. 

Like I said, a heart of gold.

The problem, for the time being, was solved. We replaced those dead, and soon we were back in the swing of things. Charles was happy, healthy, and I found myself fairly comfortable in our lodgings.

Tonight, things changed.

First thing I heard was the groaning. A very shrill, painful moan was echoing its way from the pasture, and I feared the worst. A sick cow. A dying cow.

I thought, potentially, our cattle had been caught with a plague.

Maybe that’s what’d killed them in the first place.

I told Janey I’d head out, just check on them, make sure it was nothing. She sat on her chair, quietly reading to herself. Charles lay on his stomach by the fireplace. I looked at him and gave him a comical, “Listen to me, Charles. You’re in charge while I’m gone,” then Janey laughed and scooped him up, saying, “So you’re the man of the house now, huh?”.

As I left, Charles’ infectious laughter was the last thing I heard before the wooden door shut.

I retrieved Delilah from the stable, and equipped her with a rifle just in case. 

I wouldn’t say I’m a gunslinger, but I don’t miss either.

It was a few minutes of trotting along, following the pained moans, when I saw it. I flashed the lantern down to the grass.

Our oldest, and longest living cow was now horizontal, her eyes, large and black. Hopeless.

Her stomach was split open. a large gash stretched from her sternum to her udder. An assortment of organs were spilling out from within. She shouldn’t be alive.

And yet she was.

And she was suffering.

Although I hate doing it, I know it’s necessary. I jumped off Delilah, armed myself with the rifle, checked it was loaded and fired one round, putting ol’ Betsy out of her misery. The loud bang sent waves through the brush, and birds that were once sleeping now fled the trees and scattered the night sky. 

The moaning had ceased.

The wings of those birds then diminished.

And It was quiet once again.

Now, what I’m about to tell you is going to sound crazy. But I want to remind you, beforehand, that everything I’m ‘bout to write is true. It happened. 

And I now know what killed them.

I stood over the body of my dear Betsy, and I slipped the rifle back into Delilah’s saddle. As I faced away from the body, I was peeking just over Delilah’s neck. 

On the edge of the tree line were a pair of golden dots. Luminescent dots that seemed to slowly sway left and right. I couldn’t make out exactly what it was, the lanterns glow blocking a clear visual that far in front of me. I hesitated for a moment, and watched these “eyes” move ever so slightly. Then they were gone.

and for a moment-

 I felt a sense-

Of imminent-

WHACK

A force, so great, had sent me flailing across the field. Delilah’s body followed close behind me. It felt like a train had barrelled through and struck my very soul. I crumpled in a heap in the lengthy grass and took a moment to get my bearings. I had been terribly winded, the sheer weight of whatever had hit me had sent me at least twelve yards away. I rubbed a hand across my abdomen, and knew I had broken a couple of ribs, coughing up blood in the process. It took me a second, for I feared my lungs may have been punctured, but I managed to get a sharp inhale the same moment I sat up on my buttocks. I steadied my breath and looked up to see Delilah, also flat on the earth.

The lantern had cracked, sending a devastating ember to the land. A steady fire began to spread, and it danced its way between us.

Delilah laid there.

But she, unlike myself, was unmoving.

And she, unlike myself, was being cradled. 

Cradled by a tall, ungodly being. 

One with eyes I could only describe as unwavering, thoughtless, empty. With a presence so terrifying it’d send Lucifer into hiding. Long sharp claws protrude from its bony hands. One collection of claws wrapped themselves tightly around Delilah’s throat, and the other rested just over her stomach. The creature’s face was an amalgamation of all of your worst nightmares. Both insectoid in shape, and wolf-like in texture. It hunches itself over my dear horse, revealing a spiky furred crescent trailing right down to the base of its spine. Its legs are too long to sit easily beneath it, rather one is encroaching forward and the other is tucked underneath its heavy mass.

The monster stares vacantly forward, and grips tightly onto its prey. And in one quick movement, it slides its resting hand quickly across in one movement, and before I can register what is happening, Delilah then meets a very familiar fate.

I quickly and unsteadily find my footing and, with the assistance of the ever growing blaze, I spot my rifle tucked into a heap of bush. 

As I go to grab it, I realize that my own body is rejecting my thoughts. My right hand grasps the stock of the rifle, and my left dangles by my side. It appears lifeless and mangled. Three fingers snapped back in all sorts of funny angles.

I had apparently landed on my arm quite suddenly in the prior impact.

Even if the rifle was loaded with a second round, I doubt I’d have the strength to lift it. So, I made the next best choice.

I ran for my goddamn life.

I took off, making my way back to my home. Every so often I looked back, watching the beast make a meal of my dear girl. She didn’t deserve that. Nobody did.

The only thing that I was waiting for was a hand around my own throat, and my own guts hanging from my belly. But the monster did not chase. It simply watched me fumble through the darkness, and I watched the flames get ever brighter, ever bigger. I watched everything Janey and I worked for slowly crumble away into ash. 

With a great menacing beast standing in its wake.

It took me what felt like an eternity, but the adrenaline had me running circles around any Olympic runner as I finally reached the porch steps. I stopped for a moment, looked back, and caught my breath.

I coughed up a few more splatters of blood, which I carefully discarded into the dirt. 

I didn’t want Charles to see it.

I held my snapped arm with my other hand, and nursed it for a moment. Trying to make it look as regular and normal looking as possible.

The windows were dark. Janey had obviously put Charles to bed, and the fire had been snuffed out. 

At this point, I’m wondering how I’m going to get my family out of our dream home. 

We ain’t got a horse no more, and the closest neighbour is a couple miles away.

But that fire is ever approaching. 

I can still smell the smoke.

But I …

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