> Be me

> Lost job, wife, house. Everything.

> See no way out, grab knife from kitchen and head innawoods to an hero.

> Get a bit lost, sun goes down, can’t see shit.

> Doesn’t matter, I’ll be dead anyway.

> Hear distant sounds of an engine desperately clinging onto life

> The car, almost kissing the ground, slowly sputters to a stop

> Cannot believe my eyes

> Watch from the treeline as what could only be described as an eldritch mass of flesh and fat emerges from car

> Watch it waddle to a nearby bush. Here the smell hits me, I quietly retch hoping the beast does not spot me

> See it unzip what can arguably be called pants. Looks more like a blanket

> The beast unsheathes its weapon

> My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, so I cannot blame it on that

> I simply. Cannot see. Anything.

> Piss seems to conjure out of thin air.

> In my awe and disgust my mind wanders to my daughters

> What kind of father would leave them to fend for themselves in a world with creatures like this

> Tap on its window when it squeezes back into its car and ask it to call the police

> It sputters and stutters, and I catch a few words of English

> The unbearable stench makes my eyes water uncontrollably

> One of the words I manage to make out of that thing’s unholy speech is “knife”

> Look down and see I’m still holding it. The horror of the previous 20 minutes making me forget about it completely.

> Take ride home in cop car and hug my daughters tight that night.