Why did I touch the shovel? WHY DID I TOUCH IT? My family never bothered, neither did anyone in this town. WHY DID I? The doctors here called it "natural curiosity that lead to insanity". The shovel has ruined my life. I live in an asylum, and the only connection to the outside world for me is my small laptop computer, which surprisingly the doctors allow here. I need to tell people my story.

My name is Brian, I am 19, and I WAS living in an apartment in one of the many suburban towns near Seattle. It rains a lot in my town, so I don't exactly get out much. I was working as a programmer for a company that made virus scanners and I made a decent amount of money. Sadly, my sister wasn't doing so well. She lived in Seattle at that moment, and she wasn't doing so well. Her income was running low, and she apparently had gotten involved in a driving accident. She called me and told me she needed a place to stay so she could get back on her feet. I agreed to let her have my guest bedroom, and I drove over to Seattle. And yes, it was raining.

I had to weave through the small streets before I got to the main highway that led to the city. While I was driving on an old, bumpy road that led out of the town, something on the side of the road caught my eye. I stopped the car and glanced my head around to look at the object. It was metal and thin, but I needed to get closer to get a better look. I opened the car door and stepped out into the freezing rain. I started to wonder why I was getting out of the car to go look at some random object, but my programming career had left me cooped up in the house for a few days, and I was curious.

I walked across the dirt road and into the field where the metal object was. Now, I could see what it was. It was a shovel. I got closer to take a look at it. It was very rusty and it looked like it had been there for a very long time. The shovel was stuck upright in the dirt, like it was used to bury something...or someone. I got a chill in my skin when I thought of the latter.

The town cemetery was close to here, so I don't know why someone would choose to bury someone here instead of there. As I looked even closer at the shovel, I saw something red at the end. I was mixed in with the rust and it was faint, but it was definitely there. "Is that..blood?" I thought. I reached out and..(WHY DID I DO THIS?) touched it. The red stuff felt very crusty, which meant it was probably blood. Immediately after touching it, I felt a chill, but I just dismissed it as a product of the cold rain. I got back in my car, and drove towards Seattle.

On the way there, I swore I hold clanging noises that were coming from the trunk, but I took no notice. i arrived in Seattle and picked up my sister, and nothing strange happened until that night, although she did say I was behaving a little strangely. After a late night of watching comedy movies, we both went to sleep. I was a little worried about going to sleep because of the whole shovel thing, but the comedy movies had obviously calmed me down, so I collapsed in bed and went to sleep. Then, the nightmares started.. I saw images of blood, hangings, and old Western towns, I heard screams in the night, not sure if they were mine or they were from the from the dream. The last thing I remember before waking up that morning was a man beating another man with a shovel.

I woke up suddenly. I was sweating and I felt terrified. Somehow, I got myself to leave the safety of my bed and go to the bathroom mirror. I looked terrible. My eyes were red and bulging while my hands were trembling. I had to go to work today, but I didn't even know if I could make it out of the house. All I could think of was that last scene, the man beating another man with a shovel. I have never been someone that believes in ghosts and aliens, but I had a feeling this somehow had something to do with the bloody shovel.

I still had to go to work though. I showered, got dressed, ate, and said goodbye to my sister. I still hadn't told her about the shovel. It would frighten her, and I didn't want to give her something else to worry about. I got in my car and drove to work. Along the way, I heard the clanging again in my trunk. I started to think if I had put anything metal in there. I parked my car, and walked into the front doors of Klein Security Inc. I talked to several of my co-workers as I ascended the steps to my office. It just felt good to talk to a living human after all of the hell I have been facing recently.

I walked into my office and started working on a new program for a virus scanner we have been developing. I couldn't exactly focus on code though. The shovel has been in the back of my mind ever since I first felt that chill when I touched it. I had to work late that day. My boss said, "You will need to lock this place up when you are done." I begged to not work late that night, but my boss kept saying "We have a deadline for this virus scanner." I typed like a maniac to get the script done before it got too late. I was scared now. The thing that scared me the most that night was what I saw when I finished up doing my work.

An image file popped up on my computer. I didn't know how it got there, but it was there. I moved my mouse up to the file and clicked it. The image showed up on my computer screen.... It was a bloody shovel.

I ran screaming from my office, crying like a young child. I rushed down the stairs as images of blood and shovels flashed through my head. I reached the bottom of the stairs, bolted out the front door, and dashed into my car. I turned the keys and raced off. I was going way over the speed limit, but nothing mattered then but getting the hell out of there. Suddenly, my whole body froze.

My hands started moving again, but I wasn't controlling them. I was driving myself back to town.. I tried to yell, but no words would come out. I drove myself right on to a dirt road and the car stopped. The shovel was there. the moonlight reflected off it and the unseen force led me right to it. My hands gripped it, and the whole story fell into place in my mind.

A man named Silias Derton was a rich man who came from the east to look for a nice place to stay in the west. Seattle was starting up then, and he liked the climate. But he needed a place to stay that was away from the bustle of the city. So, he built a house where this town is now. One night, he was murdered. No one knows who did it, but the only piece of evidence was a shovel. No one touched it, because of the fear that whoever touches it is the murderer.

After the memories ended, I suddenly regained control of my body again, and I fell in a heap on the dirt. Ghostly voices swirled around me as I screamed in horror. "The murderer touches the shovel." "The murderer touches the shovel." they chanted. After that, I blacked out.

I don't remember anything after that except waking up here. Voices and visions torture me. I need to find a way out, to plead my innocence.

Present Day

Tonight, I must do something. The visions terrify me, and I need this to come to a stop. My doctors came in for the last time today. They gave me a small meal, and turned off the lights in my cell. I was preparing my self for the horror that was about to come. It started with shadows dancing across my cell. I looked to my right, towards the glass window, and I see a face moaning at me. Western figures crossed my room. I was terrified as all hell. It was like this every night, but tonight I needed to end this. "I AM INNOCENT!" I yelled into the emptiness of my cell. Something different happened though. I got a response. A ghostly whisper surrounded me. "Only murderers touch the shovel." "And murderers die...." "You may not die yet.." "But you will die soon."

These words have haunted me since. I can't defeat the evidence.


19 Days After

This is a friend of Brian writing. I published this article for him, as he died 13 days after writing his last entry. It is a very sad time for us all, as Brian was a dear friend to me. There is something I must say that may add on to what he has been posting. During Brian's funeral, he was holding something in the casket. I do not know how or why it was there.

It was a shovel.