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The Shrieking Beast

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I don't think anyone has heard of this thing before. Or rather, I haven't seen this thing mentioned before. So I guess this is the first documentation of this thing.

I don't know what exactly it was. It was this... thing. Perhaps I should start from the beginning though.

I have a small cabin in northern Wisconsin. I go there for vacations occasionally. I'm single, so I'm all alone there. I work a steady job. I'm a machinist, not that that really matters much. I just make enough money to actually afford a cabin.

I went up to the cabin a few winters ago. The snow was fairly heavy and after a few hours it didn't look like it would be easy to get out; the snow piled up before the door was getting fairly high. It of course was frigid outdoors, and I had a small wood stove lit to warm the cabin.

It was after dark and I had had a few drinks. I can typically handle a lot of alcohol, so I wouldn't say I was drunk. Not by far. I decided it was about time to go to bed. I turned off the lights. The room remained dimly lit because of the dim orange flame from the wood stove. I chucked in another log and went to bed.

I didn't stay asleep long. I was awoken by a odd noise. It sounded like nothing I had heard before. It... it sounded like some type of shriek, but very deep, and certainly not from anything I'd recognize. I figured it was some type of injured animal or something, so I tried to doze off again. To no avail. The thing only wailed louder. It sounded like it was outside. Not far from the cabin.

I got up and peered out my window. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. “Perhaps my mind is just playing tricks on me. Maybe this is all just a dream,” I thought to myself. I crawled back into bed and tried to return to sleep. The thing wailed on, though I did my best to ignore it. After what seemed like half an hour, I fell back asleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night to a loud clang; like the door on the wood stove had just been slammed shut. I jumped out of bed. The stove was dark. The room was cold; as if it had been cold for a while. “I must have simply imagined the noise,” I thought. I investigated the stove, expecting to see a few glowing embers in there yet. None. I touched my hand against the stove. Cold. Ice cold. I stuck my hand into the ash inside. Cold. Not a sliver of warmth.

Confused, I began thinking of ways this could have happened as I grabbed another log to restart the fire. Perhaps some snow got into the chimney from outside. No, that wouldn't have done anything. If it had been enough to extinguish the flame, the ash would have had to have been wet, right? It hadn't been.

After refilling the stove and rekindling the flame, I returned to sleep.

Once again I awoke to a loud noise. This time it had been a log falling of the pile. Or so I thought. Once again, nothing had changed but the stove. The stove was once again oddly cold.

I got up to reload the stove, once again thinking to myself what it could have been that caused it to be extinguished. No ideas came to mind, and I returned to bed after rekindling the fire.

Before falling asleep, I anticipated returning to my dreams. But... what dreams were they? I know most people don't remember their dreams, but they could still tell you that they had dreams. Oddly, I couldn't recollect one. After a few moments of thinking, I brushed it off and dozed off again.

A third noise awoke me in the middle of the night. This time, it was of footsteps across the wooden floor. Loud, irregular footsteps. Almost stomps. It sounded as though it was more than two legs. I sprang out of bed. No man nor beast stood in my cabin but I. Though once again, the stove was cold.

I once again reloaded it and rekindled it. This time, before I had a chance at dozing off though, a loud noise echoed through the room. Or rather, noises. It was more footsteps. I sprang back up. The room was empty, though the noise clearly came from inside. It was coming from nowhere...

Suddenly the footsteps ceased. The shrieking started up again. This time, louder. As if it were coming from just outside. Just through the wall. I shoved on my boots and a jacket. I had some type of rifle on a rack. I had never used it, nor had I any other gun; I had been given it by a relative who thought it might look nice in the building. They also gave me a small pack of bullets “just in case.” I loaded the gun the best I could, fumbling to use this mechanism I had no experience with.

I swung open the door. Snow poured in from outdoors. The shrieks were louder than ever. I began running around the building, gun loaded. I had no idea what I was up against. I had no experience with weaponry like this. I only hoped it would be smart enough to run away at the sight of either me or the gun, whatever it was. Whatever it was.

When I saw it, I had no idea what I was looking at. It was gray, contrasting with the white snow. It had two long bony arms, two long bony legs. Or at least that's what it seemed. The limbs were arranged in an unnatural arrangement; by far not symmetrical, by far not anything resembling nature. The things at the ends of the limbs looked nothing like feet, nor did they resemble hands. They looked like some random conglomeration of fingers, claws, and things I don't know how to explain. The head appeared to be emerging from what could only be explained as either a shoulder or a hip, as it was where one of it's unusual limb-things protruded from it's body. The head had no eyes and only a mouth. The only thing indicating that it could be a mouth was that it was clearly a hole. It was surrounded by long threads and chunks of gray flesh. It's skin was gray. Gray with black and brown spots. It looked chunky; as though it was a cake baked from a batter that wasn't mixed properly.

The odd thing was... the sound didn't appear to come from it directly. It seemed to be coming from somewhere near, but I couldn't figure it out.

The thing suddenly, with my appearance, scattered up the side of my cabin. It's “limbs” flailed wildly, each grabbing random boards on the cabin. I aimed the gun the best I could and fired. The thing shrieked louder. I fired again. You could barely hear the shot over the shrieks now. They just got louder. They were more of loud moaning now. The thing disappeared on the roof.

I quick ran inside to grab my things. I didn't want to stay near this thing, whatever it was. The stove was once again dark. I had grabbed just my keys and a few other important things when the noise stopped. Suddenly the door slammed shut. The shrieking returned and I blacked out.

I don't remember what happened after that. When I woke up the next morning, I was still inside the cabin. It was a mess. The bedsheets were torn and strewn across the floor. I lie in fetal position on the ground. The bed mattress was shredded, the window was smashed, and gun beside me. It was out of ammunition.

I have no memory of the rest of that night, but I have stopped going up there. I'm not returning there and I suggest no one else either. I have no idea what lies there.

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