If you are listening to this, am I Dead?

      If you are listening to this, am I Dead?

                    (A recording by Jack Kelly.)



  “My name is Jack Kelly, and I’m a freelance reporter working on a bizarre story I stumbled across a few weeks ago. I thought it would make a great Halloween piece, but it turned out to a bigger story than I ever would have dreamed. Normally I would be thinking Pulitzer on something this big, but no one is ever going to believe this story.

  You’ll find all my notes on my laptop; my password is ilovepancakes, all one word. I mailed my laptop to Captain Steve Cunningham at precinct 413, Hobbs Street station.

  Right now it’s three o'clock  Saturday October 17, and this Pulitzer prize story that I’m investigating has had me on the run for most of the night, and this is the crazy part, these things that are after me; look like us, sound like us, but they’re not human, yes I said it, not human. I don’t know what they are. I’ve ended up in a dead end alley on Baker Street between Bill’s House of BBQ, and the Old Bagel Store hiding in a bad smelling dumpster hoping it will hide my scent. ‘They’re like blood hounds.’

  Their behavior is like that of a pack with a single intelligence. They wait for their victim to separate from the group, and then they attack. Once they have you, feeding starts right away. Some long green slimy tube ejects from out of their frickin chops onto some part of your body, then it really starts to get pretty, they sound like they’re vomiting, but what they are really doing is

ejecting something into you, and when that happens, You go limp, after a few moments of that you hear some sucking sound. You know that sound when you’re drinking a soda through a straw and there’s noting left. It’s something I never want to hear or see again.

  Now, I still believe that I am of sound mind, but my discovery is unbelievable, what I have found is a world that shouldn’t exist. How can any rational human being believe this story to be true? Hell I wouldn’t. Wait, just hang on a minute, I thought I heard something; have to be careful not to make too much noise.Oh God, I just want to wake up from this nightmare! I don’t want to know the things I know, and I don’t want the things out there to know me. Crap! I do hear something moving around, rats’ maybe. No, no, not rats, I can feel their presence, they’re getting closer, but what is that sound, it’s almost as if they’re crawling or dragging something. I’m just too damn afraid to open this dumpster lid to look out; it would be just too frickin loud, plus I have no place to run. This may be my last will and testament. So please respect my wishes no matter how insane or drugged up I may sound; I know this sounds nuts, but I’m begging you, please do as I ask.

  If you do not discover my body; tell my family and friends not to look for me, and if they should see me on the streets and it's dark, do not call out to me, do not make eye contact; just turn around and run the hell the other way. If they hear a knock at their door some late night and they see me standing there, and I beg them to let me in, they must tell me to go away and never return. You are not welcome here any more! They must say those words. They must not listen to me. I will lie to them,

   

I will say all the things they want to hear. They need to understand it’s a lie that’s standing at their door; it’s an illusion, an illusion of life. Read my notes, follow my wishes, but do not pursue this, this goes especially for you Tim, some stories should never come out of the shadows.  They’re very near, ho God! I think they can smell me, or maybe even hear my heart beating. Please tell my parents I love them. Noooo”!

   

                           

                                                              The End