In all honesty, telling my story isn’t a very good idea. Throughout my time on earth, I’ve learned that some things are better kept hidden then revealed. Overall, human curiosity is something so intricate and complex to be prevented. A particular thought going through my head is whether someone will go explore the place I am about to describe. However, if I can get through to the mind of those few, I must place a severe precaution. Don’t go there. During my time in that wretched place, I saw things that'll never be unseen. The predicaments I’ve been in only leave a score of great length. My rambling aside, if you decide to go there, it’s not my fault what happens to you. I’ve given all the warning necessary. This story, though shocking and slightly unbelievable, is true. The events I’m going to relay may leave those with sensitive nerves prone to emotional shock, but I cannot say for sure. I also cannot save you from night terrors of any kind, but if you knew of the night terrors I have, you wouldn’t want to trade.

This story starts around the midpoint of last summer. Before I start however, I need to explain my personality and backstory. First off, I’m no squeaky clean person. I’m far from that. Throughout much of my young life, I have been misunderstood in the highest of regards. This misunderstanding is supposedly the result of “negligent behaviors in some circumstances”. I’m not saying that they are liars, but they definitely, no matter how intelligent, have their facts a little askew. Take into mind, I’ve been to multiple psychiatrists at the request of my parents, and it’s always been the same thing. “He’s simply born that way, the slight behavioral and mental problems.” Of course, they try to make it seem professional and such, but they’re definitely not fooling anyone, especially not me.

Because of this, my parents decided that a retreat was the best idea in ending the hostilities for good. I was reluctant, feeling as if I was being pressured into some kiln of sorts, in the figurative sort. What I mean is that at this retreat for, “less serene lots”, was only going to cause things to get worse. I’m sure other people felt the same, but none to the utmost I displayed. My parents, tyrants they were, hurried when explaining to me that this might be the best time of my life. If only they knew that it would develop into the exact opposite. Overall however, time would be the ultimate display of what unfurls. On paper, the retreat seemed alright, being set in the beautiful shore of Cove Bay, just off the coast of Scotland. I had heard good things about the City, relating to how it was an economic hot-spot. One could even say that it was one of the fastest growing villages in the United Kingdom and affiliating provinces. However, the “resort, which was more of a compound in my opinion, seemed desolate. It gave a vibe which could only be equaled by the Weston State Hospital. It honestly resembled the mental asylum if you looked at it. The Victorian structure was quite past it’s prime, and only offered glimmers of unease, and unsettlement. It seemed so out of place in such a beautiful environment...

Anyway, the day of departure was solemn, yet uneventful. No genuine words were exchanged, and it was almost shameful. The quick, subtle, “goodbye” and “see you soon”, were done out of pity rather than heartfelt meaning. But at the same time, I was used to it. All my life, heartfelt meaning had never been expressed to me. I was that “one guy”, who, at 17, had never had a girlfriend or kissed someone. It honestly made me sort of an outrider in social life. I was that weird guy who wasn’t funny, never accepted, and never liked by the girls. It honestly enraged me. Maybe that’s part of why I ended up the way I did. What did I do wrong? Am I a jerk? How come the popular kids drive the nice cars and get the good women? It looks like I suffer from “Nice Guy Syndrome”. Life truly is a mess. My rambling aside, the train from Glasgow was pleasant. The food was alright and the staff there was pretty nice to be around. When we made our stop at Perth, a city a little smaller than my hometown, a few people I would come to know joined the journey.

I was listening to music when I overheard the slight chime of the intercom. I figured that the right thing to do was to take my headphones out to listen. I was uninterested, but at the same time acknowledging it was the best thing to do. I figured it was a simple message about our next stop or how long until we reach Aberdeen. However, the message was “Please allow room for passengers joining us from Perth. Their exact seat numbers have been lost in the computer.” It was really strange to me. Shouldn’t the records be on their ticket? I dismissed this however, and went back to listening to Grateful Dead. I was in the middle of “Casey Jones” when I got a tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see a teenager, about an inch shorter than me, a little slimmer than myself, but still looking like the same age.

“Is this seat open?”


“Could I sit here?”

I was a little reluctant, but I decided to let him sit next to me. What harm could it do? Maybe this guy was interesting, someone that I could talk to. We rode in silence for the first ten minutes, all caught up in the worlds made by technology. My english teacher always told me that cellphones were the most powerful tool ever created by man. I could believe him honestly.

“So, where are you heading off to?”

“Aberdeen. You?”

“Aberdeen as well. My parents said this stupid retreat would help me “discover myself”.

“You too? I thought I was the only one.”

It honestly shocked me at first. Someone else in my predicament? All this time, I thought I wouldn’t find anyone else who I could relate to on this train ride. After a little bit of small talk, I began to learn more about this guy. He said his name was Will, and was sent to the retreat in order to aid his studies. It was slightly saddening to hear how harshly his parents judged him. He said his parents had conditioned him to be a perfectionist, and his sub-tier “B” grades were unacceptable. I felt bad for him, in a strange, awkward kind of way. All that time he had spent working to death to only be denied by his parents. Small talk was something that I had never been good at. The conversation we had was spaced out, and branched out in various different directions until we could find a topic of discussion. It was until I heard him ask me this that I began to pay attention.

“So James, I’ve heard things about the retreat, about it being haunted or something. Have you heard anything?”

That was shocking to me. In all my time looking up and researching the place, I had never heard about it being haunted. And all the places I’ve looked, honestly finding something would have relieved me. I’m one of those people who continually does background checks on people to the point of knowing everything about them. Sure, some of my sources can be a little shady or unorthodox, but it honestly made no difference to me. I quickly inquired of Will a little more about the story.

“So basically, I travel to Aberdeen each summer. Over the course of that time, I’ve come to know most of the locals. They’re all a little strange, but honestly I find no wrong with them. Anyway, I was at a local restaurant, owned by an old docksman, Wright’s the name. We were talking about the local tourism, as I had heard the area was developing. He was referring to a bus tour that his wife organizes. The tour goes around an area which used to be an old mental asylum. He explained how all the patients from this mental asylum were admitted for the following reasons: hallucinations, delusions, and screaming. It was said that this was due to seeing a mythological creature. It was insane...”

His speech aside, I took interest in what he said. Mental patients being admitted on terms of a mythological creature? It intrigued me, and I made a note to find out more about it. The rest of the ride was uneventful, and not many words were exchanged. Actually arriving at the place was another story. We got there around 7:00, but it was already dark. My thoughts were clouded. They were filled with images of home, and a life filled with glee and success. It was a murky mix, as I could see the future, but the rays of hope couldn’t get to it. It was similar to the way the light shines upon the ocean tormented by mankind’s presence. I knew I needed to get rid of these feelings, so I took a walk to the cove.

To tell you the truth, the cove was beautiful. The waves crashed upon the bank like football players in strife. It’s a sight you have to see to believe. Out of the corner of my ear, I heard a slight grumbling. It was unintelligible, but I knew it wasn’t human. I turned one ear towards the sea, and was able to hear the noise. I moved closer, and the grumbling turned into a low keen. It frightened me, and I was frozen in place, unable to move. The noise became louder and louder, until it was burrowing into my ears like a miner in frustration. But then, my worst nightmare. A head appeared from the water, similar to Cthulhu, with tentacles and brine all over. The wretched beast appeared in full view. Oh, it was a sight to behold. A body so large and so wide, appearing to be made of pure rock. They were organized in a pattern which resembled rays emanating from a sphere like structure. This sphere resembles a sun with diagonal lines running through it. Three lines each, going on each axis. It arms ended in squid like protrusions. These appeared to be its fingers, and they seemed well suited for his predicament. His legs and feet were made in the same manner, however the joints on its feet were connected in a similar manner to you and I. It then began muttering, slow at first, in some language unheard in all my studies. It had a strange combination of vowels and consonants extremely unorthodox to a common speaker. I honestly cannot comprehend what he said, but I know it shook me in a way that I will never be able to explain. If you learned anything from my tale, know this. Throughout human existence, we have ruled this earth due to our ability to comprehend and understand our counterparts. However, there are some things that cannot be explained. The Aberdeen Monster is one of them.

Credited to Will H. Lovings