How do I know this? Well, there have been subtle but definite signs. The sound of tiny little teeth on drywall. The occasional scurrying of tiny little legs in the middle of the night. And of course, the loud, continuous, earsplitting screeching of what can only be some kind of fucking demon that has apparently taken up residence in our goddamned attic.
I swear, I've never heard anything that sounds even remotely like this thing. If you fired a cat out of a cannon directly into another cat, the sound they would make at the moment of impact wouldn't be half as annoying as this thing. If you were to put together all the crying children in the world into one room, and then made them all scream into a megaphone, that would be soothing compared to this thing. If nails and a chalkboard ever had a kid, this fucking sound would pop out.
And the fact that we have absolutely NO idea what kind of animal could be making that sound is the only reason we've let this go on as long as it has. But we haven't slept for two fucking weeks now! Enough is enough.
We're going in.
Yes, Kristy owns a sword. No, we don't want to talk about it.
ANYHOO, slowly, we crept forward. The attic was pitch-black, the only light coming from pale-blue moonbeams shining through the dusty windows. The air was cold, clammy, and completely silent. At the time, we both thought something felt horribly wrong but we couldn't quite put our finger on why. Well, as they say, hindsight is 20/20.
The air was silent. The air's never silent. It was silent because He knew we were coming.
And then, in the distance, in one of the dusty windows, we saw it. We saw Him.
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