October 17th, 2018
How long has it been since the rain started? Months? Years? The pages of my calendar fall like the raindrops on my window. One by one, they descend to the floor as they fall in line with the rest of the junk littering the ground.
“Marcus,” I tell myself, “Looks like years of being shut in finally paid off.” I laugh at the comment and fix myself a cup of coffee. Sometimes, I really amuse myself. Anyone who goes outside is swept away by the currents created by the torrential storm outside. I’m safer in here anyways. Home is where the heart is after all. When the downpour began, I began stock loading via the internet. Technology used to be an amazing thing. I could have anything I needed through the computer, a credit card and a few keystrokes. Disability took care of any debt I racked up. Now, all this damned computer serves for is documenting my last moments locked in my house until the flood sweeps away my house. That, or I starve. Go mad even. Writing helps pass the time. Well, writing and the scotch I keep in the cabinet. The rain will pass. I just have to be patient, and keep up my spirits… and drink em.
October 19th, 2018
Running low on the meds Doc gave me to keep calm. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Done it before. I’d get more, but that damned rain would just sweep me away. I want to live. Got so much to live for. I’ll get some more when the rain stops. Hell… I may walk to the store myself.
October 21st, 2018
I can hear things outside my house. Rain must’ve attracted them. God, I can hear them scratching against the walls. Can even hear em on my roof. They want me to come out and get swept away just like all the others. I just know it. This keeps up, I’ll be out of scotch. I have a bat near me if they break in… when they break in. I pray to GOD they don’t get in.
October 22nd, 2018
Oh my GOD they look like people. They look like P-E-O-P-L-E. I have to type it out just to reassure myself of what I saw. I looked outside my window. I saw one standing at my door. His eyes glowed a deep yellow like something off of a horror movie. Deep hollows where the eyes should be replaced by a cold, dead dandelion glow. He saw me, smiled and waved. They’re taunting me. I know it. There are crosses in every room now. I had to navigate through the maze of junk, but I know the way. They’re gonna get in. I just know it. I pray I’ll be ready.
October 23rd, 2018
When I was 7 years old, I saw one of these denizens of hell. I can’t believe I blocked it out till now. I couldn’t remember… maybe I didn’t want to. My mother never believed me. She didn’t have the gift I did. She sent me to the shrink. She didn’t know he was one of them too. That’s why they gave me the happy pills. The sedatives. They hinder my gift. If I wasn’t a shut in, I would have taken the fight to them. But they know my secret now. They know that I know who they are. WHAT they are. One day, they’ll find my entries and discover the hero I was. God help me through this.
October 27th, 2018
God spoke to me today. I heard her sweet voice command me what to do. Funny… God being a women. It explains the whole “Wrath of God” thing in the old testament.
“Marcus,” she said. “Only you can stop them.”
“How Lord? I am but a man.” She showed me a vision of me smiting one of these demons.
“Perform the ritual. Plant the cross in water, and baptize the demons. It’s the only way.” I did what she had asked me. The bathtub was filled with water and a crucifix placed at the bottom. The latin prayer was scrawled all over the walls to keep them in. If someone saw, they’d think me mad. However, I am doing God’s work, and I refuse to die here. Not like this.
“Do this,” she said, “And surely you shall be granted access unto heaven.” Our God is merciful, and I shall not disappoint.
October 28th, 2018
One broke in through the window last night. He wore all black and attempted to kill me. Little did he know, I heard him. I was waiting. He shot the bed twice, and turned around only to be knocked unconscious with an aluminium bat. He was heavy. Maybe 210? Dragging him to the bathroom was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I put him in the tub and he awoke.
“What are you doing to me?” he screamed. I could hear the rage in his voice. He was trying to deceive me. Kill the demon, and the rain stops. God says so. I shoved him under the water.
“Your soul shall burn Marcus Simmons!” Submerged the hellion under again, and the water bursts into flames. I’ve never prayed so hard in my life. This demon was too strong. I was flung across the room. Shook it off and held him other until he stopped kicking. This is when the demon is weakest, so I began the scripture for the exorcism. The demon erupted in a cloud of black and red smoke. I couldn’t save the host though. Poor b*****d. Had to drag his body to the basement. When the rain stops, I’ll bury him proper. Shouldn’t be too long now. The demon is dead.
October 30th, 2018
The rain pours harder than ever. It’s by her grace that the water hasn’t gotten in the house.
“God,” I ask, ”Why does the rain still pour?”
“You have work to do Marcus,” she replies. “The demon you have slain was not the one responsible for the flood.” Her will be done. God I want it to be over.
October 31st, 2018
They are everywhere…
November 2nd, 2018
God gave me a holy blade today. Bael’s dagger, she called it. She says it’s one of her favorite angels and that it is the only thing that can kill the demon responsible for the rain. The blade is somewhat wavy and the metal, ebony. There is a hook at the end of it and I’ve never seen one like it. Surely this is true. She says that I am the only one who can save the world from Satan’s flood. This is why my home is spared. I’ve never been religious… never read the bible. I’ve never been a believer… but I sure as hell am today.
November 5th, 2018
I found the b*****d today. His screams of rage haunt me. There’s… blood… everywhere. How could God condone this? The demon hid inside a man. That man had a family… loved ones. How could she let him die? Ya know… for a second… I thought I could see him cry. The rain stopped… thank God it’s over.
November 7th, 2018
Something’s wrong. It’s raining again.
November 8th, 2018
It’s all a lie. All of it… God… the demons. I saw “God”. She sat at my desk, reading my entries and smiling a twisted smile that seemed to stem from satisfaction. They’ll think I’m mad… and I am… how could I have been so blind? There was never any rain… no demons. It was all her… toying with me like a marionette on strings.
“You did good Marcus.” Her skin was white with cracks spreading across the full surface of it. Her eyes… they looked normal… but I felt cold and broken… fearful… looking into them. There was blood on her dress… and the corpses of the “demons”… gone.
“Those… sacrifices… delectable.” She licked her fingers.
“You’re the one commanding me to do all of this… there were no demons… no rain…” She smiled as I put the pieces together.
“You got it… and I’ve never been so proud.” Her very voice chilled the room… sucked out the light.
“Why…” I knew… needed to hear it.
“Why else? Souls… the ones you sacrificed,” she paused, “and yours…” she steps closer. Paralyzed with fear, I couldn’t move an inch. Couldn’t fight her off. Maybe part of me wanted her to take me. Punish me for my blindness. My sins. Her face came so close to my neck as she whispered.
“God, how I can’t wait,” She sniffed the air around me, her eyes closed as she ran her tongue across her lips. My eyes set on the gun sitting at the desk. The one the first sacrifice used to try to shoot me after he got in. She smiles again.
“Maybe I won’t have to.” She left after. I finished the rest of the scotch in the house after that… I’ve been off of my meds almost a month… I don’t know what was real… and what wasn’t. I don’t know… but what I do know is that there is that gun on my desk from the first… victim… and that I can’t live with the guilt. Whoever finds this, I don’t know what happened, but I’m too dangerous to be breathing. I can still hear her in my head, and there’s only one way out. God help me… if he can…
Marcus Simmons was found dead in his house November 8th, 2018 in his office chair with a gunshot wound in his head, and scorch marks on the ground around him.
December 17th, 2018
My name is Henry Clayton, and over the past few weeks, it’s been raining. I don’t remember for how long, but there’s something outside…
End
