The first piece of film ever created was made in the year of 1877. This film was under the title of “TEST,” we found it in a warehouse that belonged to my best friend's long dead grandfather. As the title says, this was simply a test film and nothing more. Or that is what the title would lead you on to believe. Back in those days, a recording could only go on for less than a minute. Anyone going into this wouldn't expect much. Surprise, it wasn't much at first.

This film was like all early films, black, white, and soundless. Also, incredibly dull. It was thirty-five seconds long, and consisted of a man wearing a black suit walking on an empty sidewalk and a large crowd of people on the sidewalk opposite of him. It was nothing special, and again, it was only a test. But one thing was very strange about this film. After viewing it ten times in one sitting, we started to notice the small changes that would occur every time we watched it.

Sometimes a man sitting down on a bench would be slightly moved over to the right or left. Sometimes a woman wearing what looked to be a light gray dress would then be wearing a dark gray dress. It was just small, almost unnoticeable changes. This was fascinating to the few that watched this film, myself included. This was also completely impossible, but somehow it was happening. The small group and I continued to watch for about ten minutes, the changes became bigger, more noticeable, more terrifying.

One time, it was a minor car accident and the two drivers came out yelling at each other, nothing too bad. Another time, it was a couple arguing. Then we got twenty minutes in and things changed drastically. Sometimes the crowd of people walking would change into a crowd of people fighting. Brutally assaulting each other using blades, blunt weapons, and sometimes guns. Sometimes the crowd would be replaced by a pile of bloody, sometimes dismembered, bodies.

Things just got worse and worse from there. A man slamming a baby repeatedly on the pavement, a woman gutting a man while a child shoved her own thumbs into her very own eyes, a man in a wheelchair set on fire and pushed down the street between the two sidewalks. Horrible, awful things happened, and they just got progressively worse and worse. After about thirty-five minutes, we all started hearing sound coming from the film. This was also impossible, every film made back then was incapable of having sound. This made things so much worse, it's one thing to just watch people die, but having to hear their cries and screams and such makes it so much harder to bear.

We could now hear the sound of knives cutting through the flesh of the victims, the screams of children as they are tortured, the sounds of explosions coming from off-screen. Eventually, the building behind the sidewalk opposite of the lone man walking had disappeared completely and showed off two towers side by side. The twin towers. We all knew what was coming next. The first plane hit, next play, the second plane hits, next play, people are jumping off the building and hitting the ground, making horrible sounds. This film was made in 1877, there should be no possible way for this to be happening.

It showed off multiple other tragedies, the Columbine shooting, V-tech, that Colorado theater shooting, public executions by the Nazis, and many more. That's when I noticed one thing hadn't changed this whole time. The man in the black suit walking on the sidewalk hadn't changed once at all. His movements, suit, face, hair, hair color, skin color, height, everything remained the exact same. The sidewalk, as well, never changed. This is when I gave him the moniker, the “Deathbringer.”

Eventually, I started to feel physically and mentally sick. I felt like I was going to vomit, I felt tired, ridiculously hungry, insane, dizzy, cold, I felt like I was dying. I passed out on around sixty minutes of viewing. I woke up hours later. Apparently, the others had passed out as well. We were all bleeding from our nose, and mouth. We looked up and saw one last play on the projector, it was the Deathbringer walking on the side walk outside of the building we were watching the film in.

When he reached the end of the street this time, he started turning his head to the building. And then the projector died. Since then, we have had the film taken from us by what I assume to be F.B.I. or C.I.A. people or something like that. We were told not to say anything, but as you can see, that didn't stop me from talking. Not like anyone is going to believe me. That's why those guys aren't even keeping an eye on me. Well, at least I hope not. Anyway, we were then taken to a hospital to be checked out. Surprisingly, we had nothing wrong with us physically, but mentally was the complete opposite of okay. Since then, my memories of that night have become very blurry. Initially, I started writing this as an attempt to remember more from the incident, but as I continued to write, I found out that I really don't want to remember. I don't want to remember a goddamn thing.

I have nightmares every night of horrible, awful things now. Something like that film would have shown. It's been that way for the past year and I've had it. As for my friends that were in that group, I haven't heard anything from them and they've since been reported missing. Apparently this happened over a time span of one year, but I didn't even know until I attempted to reach one of them through their family. I didn't keep in contact with them, I didn't really want to. If I had talked to them, that would only result in my memories of that awful night becoming even clearer. To be honest, I was relieved to hear that they were missing. Since they are gone my memories of that night will be forever obscured. I guess I knew that I really didn't want to remember that night subconsciously.

I see no reason to keep on going like this.

Ever since that day, I stopped going outside less and less, I am now starving, but I can't build up the courage to go out. Why? Because sometimes at night, when I look outside, I swear that I see a man in a black suit walking on the sidewalk opposite of my house.