Chapter 1

I live in a small cottage nestled in the woods about an hour away from the nearest gas station. I needed the quiet after my mental breakdown at work that forced me to go on anti psychotics. I figured the fresh air provided by the towering trees would help clear my troubled mind.

I lived there for about a year, doing coding for a wage. The isolation was a welcome change from the smog and the skyscrapers, those monoliths of greed. The city felt claustrophobic and I need to be free. This house was practically my only way of living as my parents had cut me off and I found this place for cheap and I needed a place to stay.

Most of the time after I bought the place, I’d stay at home, clean, read and code. I’d occasionally go to the gas station for food and fuel and all my human interaction was saying “thank you” and “yes please” to the pimply 17 year old that works behind the counter.

The isolation ate at me like a pack of starved wolves, desperate for their next meal. The jaws of loneliness ripped at my mental health.

The infestation started slowly, so slow it’s hard to figure the day they begin to nest beneath me. Things begin to go missing. Spoons, socks, anything small and easily lost. I thought I was just misplacing things and so moved on.

One day, I was sitting on the couch the computer’s bright screen shined through the dark room I was in, the curtains acting like vails that conceal the outside world. Then in the darkness, as my mind was focused on the code and values, I hear it.

The pitter patter of small feet colliding against my hard wood floor replaced the clack of my keyboards keys. My heart sank. I sat frozen in place, as if Medusa had turned my body into stone. My mind raced like a horse around the track with possibilities of what could be making the sound.

The sound was moving all round my couch, then my kitchen, then the clinging of cutlery combined with the scurrying feet.

I gathered my what little courage I had and I run to the light switch, the pitter patter intensifying with each step closer to the light switch, it sounded like hundreds of little feet scuttled away as I approached the light switch, then when the flood of the light flowed into the living room like a wave of water the noise stopped.

The pitter patter of small feet stopped as I had flicked the light switch, like I had turned off whatever was in here’s ability to move when i banished the darkness from the room with a flick of switch. The draw to my cutlery was open. Knifes, forks and spoons all missing from their spots.

I grasped onto the kitchen counter like it was the only thing keeping me attached to the ground. My heart begin to beat like war drums, my mind raced, my hands shook with the fury of a crumbling home.

I have had all kinds of pests and animals try and make my home into theirs and yet, I have never heard a sound like that. And what kind of pest steals spoons! I breath became shallow and quicken in pace, I opened all the curtains, the afternoon sun flooding into my living room. I sat down on my couch once more.

I couldn’t understand what was going on, my mind was overwhelmed and overstimulated. I never was able to handle pressure and this was too much. I stumbled through the hallway, my legs wobbling, my gate unnatural and stiff. The only sounds I could hear was my racing breath and brutal beating of my heart.

I grasped the door handle to my room, my hands gripped it like I would fall if I didn’t hold on. I pushed the door open and fell face first onto my bed. Rivers of tears flooded from my eyes onto my cheeks, I couldn’t handle this.

I wrapped my blanket around my shaking body, like this quilted piece of wool and fabric would be my steel shield and protect me from the world’s dragons. I stayed in this state of fear and panic for hours, till the suns rays faded away into the horizon, allowing the darkness to creep in like a fog.

I don’t know what time it was but I got up from my fortress of blankets and pillows, I was tired and I needed to take my medication, I walked through the door I forgot to close and went into the hallway, my mind was empty and I was numb. It was my way of coping with stress.

I entered into the kitchen and grabbed my pill bottle, these small little rocks of modern medicine were ment to keep my mind calm and sane. I opened the pill bottle and the only thing that came out was air. It.Was.Empty.

I began to freak out, I had just gotten a new bottle only 3 days ago. I screamed and yelled and stomped my feet, like a raging baby. I know I got them on 23rd of march and I checked my phone, seeing if I was correct.

“24th of April”

I hadn’t taken my meds in a month. 1 month of anxiety and depression. I fell to the floor, my legs refused to cooperate, I began to weep like a widow who just heard her husband was killed in battle. I cried like hell, the tears flowed like water from the tap. I couldn’t understand what was happening. Time felt wrong and days felt like hours and hours felt like days.

My breakdown was quickly interrupted by the sound of small feet. It was coming from my hallway. I froze and in a moment either courage or curiosity, I shined my phone’s flashlight down the darkness of the hallway.

The light pierce the darkness like a spear through flesh. A small humanoid stood frozen, The white scruff of hair dirty on the top of his head was standing up straight. It’s small three prong fingers grapes one of my spoons. Two brown vertical slits where were eyes should be. Its round head looked unfit for its lanky skinny neck. A round pear shaped body gave way to lanky arms and lanky legs, giving way to two long toes for feet. The small white pale skin was adorned with small white hair. It was roughly a foot tall.

The brown slits opened up to bulging blue eyes, the pupils looked like a frogs. Me and the thing stood frozen, its eyes never moved. Then, it ran down the hallway was surprising speed and I followed. I screamed and cried out, my mind letting my body take control. The silver spoon it was grasping glistened from my phones flashlight, using it to track the small thief.

It ran into the bathroom and as I scrambled into the bathroom only to see the small white robber scuttled into a small hole behind my toilet. I dived on the ground, the cold tiles cooling my sweaty body and my hand shot Into the hole the thing went down. I grabbed and felt my way around the small tunnel and only felt dirt and mud with rage.

I fingers clawed away at the tunnel, sharp rocks and roots cause shallow cuts to litter my hand but I didn’t care, this was my house and these things are in here. I used every ounce of willpower and raw madness powered me like a machine, clawing like a caged animal. Sweat and tears became in the same as i continued my rampage.

It was a blur, like a dream you only half remember. The last thing I remember was my tired body collapsing onto the bathroom floor the cold tiles being the last thing I felt before my eyes closed and I fell unconscious.

The suns rays shined upon my body through the bathroom window, the warm inviting rays contrasted with the unforgiving cold tiled floor. I rose shakily from the floor, my mind was still collecting broken pieces of the memory of last night. I looked down at my dirt and blood stained hands and the memories of pain and suffering flooded my shattered mind.

The hole was gone. The tiles were all still in place with evidence of them ever being disturbed. I knew they were there. Those things I know they are there under my house. I needed to prove it to myself. I walked into the small shed and grabbed an axe . I knew what I needed to do. I began to rip open the wooden floor.

My slender frame couldn’t usually allow me to swing the axe for more then a few swings but adrenaline was causing through my blood. The wood cracked and splintered when the heavy metal head of the axe connected with the bundle of fibre we call wood, splitting the boards apart. The crack and crunch of the wood combined with my heavy breathing made a symphony of suffering and destruction.

Tunnels. There were tunnels under the floor, I could see small chambers where spoons, socks and jewellery laid. Then small blue eyes with the pupils of frogs opened. 12 pairs of them. All staring at me.

The next thing I felt was the wind on my face as I ran down the road. Honestly I can’t even tell you how long I had been running for before someone noticed me and checked on me. He lead me to his truck and back into town. When we got to his place I told him what happened every thing. Now I’m writing this to catalog my thoughts. I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy. I know what I say.