I should have never gone with them. I couldn’t have known that this would happen, but I still wish I never left the house that day.

I should have tried to stop them when they went to investigate the weird noises and scratches along the walls. But I didn’t, and now my time is limited.

I knew noone would believe me, they’d think I’m a murderer. So I buried them.

The bodies are bloodied and disfigured, their faces unrecognizable.

Yet it’s still so obvious, that this isn’t his corpse.