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Diary of a Dead Man

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Jack Drawing

An eyewitness' sketch on the being known as Jack

This is recorded in the diary of an unknown individual in the US who later committed suicide:

April, 7, 1844

Today I saw the devil! Though I have not told anyone for fear of ridicule and the fact that he might come for me if I did tell, but I cannot get his image out of my head.

It all started around dusk. I had just finished my work at the mill which was on the outskirts of town. I was the last person to leave the mill, the other workers had already left for home or left for the bar. I had to stay late because I was on clean up duty.

Anyways I had lock up the mill and was heading for town; the only way to get there was through a road that went through a hill filled with jagged rocks. Many a time there had been wagons that had broken their wheels going on that road.

I was walking on the road when I saw someone in front of me. I called out to the figure, which turned sharply towards me as it heard me. Suddenly it was gone for a second and then it was right in front of me. I could see it clearly now, what I had first thought was a man wasn’t one at all.

Its form was a twisted mockery of man. It was covered in dark, tattered clothes and wore a large tattered black cape. Its face…Oh God… Its face was that of the devil. It had long black hair that fell down over its eyes, those eyes. The eyes of the devil were large black orbs that showed no hint of a soul (if it even had one), other than that its face was empty; no mouth, no nose, and no ears.

It towered above me, it bent down towards me so that its face was only a few inches from mine. I don’t know why but I found myself pleading to it to spare me. It cocked its head. It heard me, though how I do not know since it lacks any ears to hear. I

t lifted its hand, if one could call it that. A hand with long bony fingers with long black claws, it grabbed my face; its skin was cold as ice. The feeling made me let out an involuntary yell. It lifted me up with its hand, and drew me closer to its face.

Suddenly the place where its mouth should have been started to stir, the skin seemed to rip apart, revealing a mouth full of thin razor sharp teeth. It opened its mouth and I closed my eyes as I knew that I was going to die.

Suddenly a noise in the distance drew its attention making it turn its head sharply. It was a group of men; I had been closer to town than I had thought. They had heard my screams and had come to investigate. The creature let out a moan of frustration and dropped me. I hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of me. Blacking out, the last thing that I saw was the creature seemingly walking through a large boulder.

February 15, 1845

I am finally writing again after so long a time. After I had regained consciousness from my encounter with the nightmare creature, I was in a state of constant fear and shock. Through the months that I have not written in this diary I was plagued with images of the creature and nightmares that rarely at all let me sleep. I have been living in constant fear that it might return for me. One of these days it will come for me. I can feel it.

There is only one escape. God forgive me that I have thought of this, as I know the consequences, but I have no other option. I cannot hide the rest of my life. I cannot bring myself to face it again.

To whoever is reading this, you alone know my fate.

Goodbye.

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