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- Please note this is a remake of a previous creepypasta I have made in past years. It can be found here.
Hi. My name's Jacob. Jacob Fisher. I had a rather peculiar family, my parents worked from home, and always had time for us, they never argued either. My sister and I also got along very nicely, we had liked many of the same shows and bands, however this is all beyond the point.
You see, this all started roughly seven years ago, my family had recently moved to Maine, a place where we had dreamed of being, as we were tired of the monotonous city life of New York, we thought a life in the country would be a lot more peaceful. Well, we didn't really get peaceful.
I was tweleve at the time, and just started going to the local school. It was peaceful, all the teachers were nice and I genuinely enjoyed my time there. It wasn't until a week later that one of my classmates had asked me why my family moved into the house we did.
"Why not?" I asked "Haven't you heard?" he questioned
"What haven't I heard about?" I cautiously said. He began to tell me the tale about a 4-count murder of a family that lived there, that they had been killed by some creature one month after they moved in. Needless to say, I was scared. As any tweleve year old would be, I was very frightened for the rest of the day. It was five P.M. when my mother asked me what I was so afraid of.
"One of the kids at school told me a monster killed the people who owned this house before" I said to her, in a shaky voice.
"Oh," she said in a slightly angered tone "I want you to know that kids always do this to each-other. They like to scare new kids, just ask your dad!"
I nodded and walked back into my room, turned on my television, and plopped down onto my bed. About twenty minutes into "SpongeBob SquarePants" I saw a pale flash out of the corner of my eye, and consulted my mom about it. She told me that it was just my imagination, and that I shouldn't worry because if anything were to happen."Daddy would come and beat the crap out of it!" She always knew how to cheer me up, so I watched SpongeBob for the rest of the evening and eventually went to bed.
The next morning I rose to the sound of my alarm making noises liked a cornered animal. I realized I'd forgotten to turn it off, as today was Saturday. I hit the "off" button on my alarm and was shocked by a small note on my bedside table. It read "it's true" in fresh ink. As you would've guessed, I ran scared into my parents room and showed them the note. The way they figured it, my sister (whose name was Meryl) had written it to scare me. When we brought it up to her, she denied it.
The next couple of days (three to be exact) nothing of more interest happened. However, on Wednesday, I woke up to my alarm once more to find yet another note. This time, it said "prepare for tonight" with a creepy ass smile ripped into the paper. I screamed. I could not help it. My parents rushed into the room and asked what was wrong. I showed them the note, they looked at Meryl she shook her head as to say no. My mom went into the kitchen and called the school to say that I wouldn't be coming today due to "family issues" while my Dad questioned me what I might know about this. Many similar events like this happened throughout the day, even Meryl asked if I was ok.That night, when I was trying to sleep, I couldn't help but feel paranoid. I felt like if I were to look in the corner my back was facing "it" would get me. I finally managed to get to sleep, and woke up late that morning. I hopped out of bed, got dressed, grabbed my backpack, and opened the door to my room. All the doors in the hallway were wide open. I casually walked into the kitchen, only to find it messy and lacking my family. I quickly rushed into my parents room to find my mom lying on the bed, with a thick red line across her neck, as a scarlet liquid oozed out. My dad was hunched over near the closet with identical wounds. Tears rushed into my eyes and I ran into my sister's room. I saw her curled into a ball on her floor, bleeding. I rushed over to her and checked her pulse, she was alive.
"M-meryl? What happened?!" I said, fighting back tears
"i. . .I don't know. . . Jacob. . . call. . . police." she said as her eyes closed and her head hit the ground. I had feared she was dead.
I called the local police and they rushed over. They determined that both of my parent's throats had been clawed open forcibly. My sister was alive, she had passed out due to blood loss, upon closer examination they had found three rather large claw marks across her chest. One of the police officers faced me, he was obviously sad for my loss.
"Listen, son. I know what happened is traumatic, but come with me, we're going to try to help you. My name is Matthew. Matthew Miller. Come with me, your sister will be fine, we're going to find you a place to live."
I went with him into his cruiser, he took me to an adoption home where I would stay for until I was eighteen and had a job. I visited my sister in the hospital often, and then, after a month she joined me in the adoption home.
Skipping ahead seven years, I was in ownership of my own home, held down a job at the local grocery mart, and talked to my sister ,who was working for the police force in my town, almost daily. Nothing out of the ordinary happened to me during the adoption home and my new home. Except for now.
Meryl. If you're reading this, I want you to know that whatever killed Mom and Dad is here. With me. I'm writing this so you know. I want you to move out of this state as fast as you can after you read this. I know it's in here. Now, I'm going to. . . I'm gonna go face my death like a man.
You were the best sister I ever could've asked for.