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 The Many Morbid Tales of Spookinite Valley

Written by Benjamin Fouché

Every so often, our minds can perceive the true intentions that others hold close to their hearts—whether simply benevolent or purely malevolent.  These uncanny insights are often ignored and deemed as only paranoia and obsession.  Well, I shall tell you through this narrative that these perceptions are not to be unheeded.  Regrettably, many fools will disregard these impressions of ill-omen.  Perhaps they hear the mere wind whispering to them of a forthcoming peril.  Yet shaking away what they know is only a trick of the weary mind, they continue their everyday undertakings and travels—later to be confronted by whatever threat is impending.  And sometimes these forewarnings manifest themselves in the form of natural instinct and intuition. 

One prime illustration can be observed when one stumbles upon a stranger that causes uncertainty and apprehension.  They feel it is wiser to avoid the individual causing the unexplained dread—and yes, although the dread is unexplained, they will easily leave the person invoking negative and fearful emotions.  Though the reasons why this uneasiness exist may be difficult in ascertaining (because there is no rational reason to be trepidatious, to begin with), the why of it should matter little to the one experiencing these peculiar feelings—for they should value their life and wellbeing over engaging the peculiar stranger, simply because they cannot find a logical reason to be fearful of him.  Yet, sadly, this is usually not the case.

There are many imbeciles who will ignore even the profoundest of these deep-rooted acuities.  They would much rather use rationality as their weak and pathetic excuse for going against their unerring intuition.  Of course!  For all decisions made by these ridiculous individuals are based upon what they deem sensible and sane.  Now, I shall tell you very clearly that I refuse to engage in this kind of idiocy.  Indeed, I trust my senses very well—and they have yet to fail me.  Meanwhile, it is more than evident that the majority of those around me are naïve, simple-minded halfwits.  Oh, surely you know these people!  Overly-trusting and especially meek.  They fancy themselves morally superior. 
Yet beyond the shadow of a doubt, this is far from the truth.  Now then, I am certain you are wondering what all of my incoherent babbling is about.  Well, I shall get there very shortly, but before I do, I only ask for patience. 

If indeed you, by some ounce of a miracle, possess a mind like my own, perhaps you will understand the horrid and unbelievable events that have befallen me.  It all commenced when an elderly couple moved into the humble dwelling next to my own.  In the beginning, I did not assume anything out of the ordinary about them; they were generous, kind, and held a reserved disposition.  Or so I believed.  Oh, how wrong I was—and how wrong you will see that I was to believe this!  The first day they moved in, I helped them arrange and assemble their furnishings.  They were very grateful and thanked me for my selfless assistance.  But the final object brought up to their residence changed all sentiments that I held towards the couple.  A finely-crafted, stone gargoyle was placed upon their front porch, facing the garden bed.  It stared upon me with utter contempt and malice. 

At some point, I must have lost focus on all around me, as the old woman asked if I was all right.  As my consciousness returned, I excused myself and explained that there was something I needed to do.  Hastening away from their house and back into my own, I shut my door and bolted it.  Something was very wrong with that impish statue.  But what was it?  I thought for a few moments—listening to my own intuition.  And lastly, I came to the conclusion that it was all a representation of the true wickedness that resided within the couples’ irredeemably corrupted souls.  Peering through my draperies, so that they would not be able to see me watching them, I felt an indescribable repulsion towards the new occupants of the neighboring abode.  Why had they come into my life?  There was something dark about them.  And yet, what reasonable explanation was there for my immeasurable disgust?  It was only my sharp mind and perceptions that I could depend upon.

As the dray that carried their furniture departed and the twilight disintegrated, I knew I was in the presence of a malign force that I had never faced throughout the entirety of my life.  And thus, I decided that I would have to watch the elderly couple (if that is truly what they were).  The proceeding morning, I watched as they left for church.  Yes, yes!  How pious and reverent they appeared—and I knew everyone would believe this.  What was someone supposed to think when they saw a seemingly-ordinary elderly couple attend church on a seemingly-ordinary Sunday morning?  But I knew it was all nothing more than a meager illusion.  And I was no fool—I was no fool like the others living in my small township of Hemlock. 

When the couple returned, I observed their every movement.  Walking up the steps to the front door, the well-aged husband allowed his wife to enter first.  This kind of insincere generosity sickened me.  How could nobody else see that this was all an act—and in plain sight perched the gargoyle—this was all anyone needed to see in order to realize what actually dwelled within the house.  Yet I was the only one who carried this burden—this tragic knowledge.  But at least I was aware—and because of this, their trickery and deception would be ineffective against me.  And I chuckled to myself, knowing they were unaware of my unrivaled knowledge.  As the following morning rose, I approached the old woman who was planting herbs and flowers in her garden.  Seeing me, she said hello.  In return, I greeted her and asked about her gardening.  While she went on, telling me about the seeds she was planting, I again made eye contact with the gargoyle crouched on the porch.  The stone sentinel held a shield within its thick, claw-like hands. 

The abhorrent thing only looked into my eyes more—as if daring me to initiate a violent quarrel.  But all at once, my attention was seized by the elderly husband who came out and invited me into their home.  Upon being asked this, I explained that I had various matters to tend to that day.  Tilting my hat, I strode off, with an increasing anxiety growing within the depths of my spirit.  As I returned to the second story of my house, I parted the draperies to watch the couple—and the odious thing guarding their despicable home.  During that precise moment, I knew I had to bring an end to their worthless existences before they brought an end to mine—or anyone else’s life for that matter.  But how was I to do this?  Well, nothing was certain, but I would eventually know by each night of the waning moon, for a floating shadow in the corner of my bedchamber gave me meticulous instructions.  When the evening fell, and all of the lights in their house no longer flickered, I prowled over to the rear of their home.  In the moonlight emanating from the silver crescent in the heavens, the gargoyle seemed to almost leer at me in a rather provocative manner.

Within an instant, I took many backward strides.  I could not carry forth my undertaking, knowing that terrible thing was watching me.  Thus, I retreated back to my house, cursing the wretched grotesque as I did.  For the rest of the night, I turned over many times, lying awake in bed.  How could a silly statue prevent me from ending the hideous lives of the elderly couple?  Somehow, it held a sinister influence over me, bringing all of my actions to a halt.  How would I persevere through this brooding force?  How would I allow righteousness to reign in the end?  These were the thoughts that plagued my tortured mind.  By imagining the malicious couple continuing to live their lives brought me to the threshold of insanity—a madness like none other.  But perhaps the following night would play out as I envisioned it—and for this I yearned with such pain. 

When the time came and the sun had been strangled by the night, I placed my hand upon the knob of my front door, when I suddenly understood that the miserable gargoyle would see me and alert the loathsome fiends inhabiting the abode next door.  And thus, I exited my home through the door at the rear of my home.  I wanted to laugh, knowing how I was about to fool the ugly sentinel.  Skulking within the shadows, I was preparing myself to bring an end to the repellant lives of my neighbors, when without warning, the portentous gargoyle appeared before me behind the house of the elderly couple.  It now stands motionless—but I am no longer afraid.  I must strangle the lives out of the two dreadful inhabitants!  Watch as I move past this preposterous statue!

Disturbing Discovery in the Outskirts of Hemlock

The decapitated head of venerable resident Madison Taft was discovered this morning by an elderly couple who recently purchased property near the borders of Hemlock: Henry and Lorelai Edison.  But there are many unusual details regarding the location where Madison Taft’s head was uncovered.  When Lorelai was watering her garden, she says she gazed upon an ornamental gargoyle that they have kept with them over the past decades.  Within the hands of the grim statue rested a severed head.  Henry explained that while he was watching his wife out the window, he saw her suddenly faint.  When Henry rushed to his wife’s aid, his attention too was caught by the bodyless head grasped in the hands of the decorative grotesque. 

Upon closer inspection, Henry was horrified to realize that the head belonged to his acquainted neighbor.  Even so, the most inexplicable aspect regarding this disquieting case is the fact that Taft’s skull was not crushed.  It would have been impossible for the suspect to have placed the head within the hands of the statue without breaking the skull or tearing the flesh.  Henry remarked further, stating that the statue had originally clutched onto a shield, but this was a part of the same stone that the rest of the grotesque was carved from.  Lorelai added that the gargoyle was given to them as a gift from her parents many years ago, stating that they gave it to them “for protection”.  Foul play is currently suspected by law enforcement officers; however, they refuse to specify whether or not Henry and Lorelai Edison could have any involvement.

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