I live on a farm in the woods of new England and every night at 3 am my dog starts barking

Follow by Email
Facebook
Facebook
Google+
https://darknessprevails.org/i-live-on-a-farm-in-the-woods-of-new-england-and-every-night-at-3-am-my-dog-starts-barking/


Greetings darkness who we are dosnt really matter.but for the sake of the story my friends name is Alex and my dogs name is zara and I’m raven a bodybuilding female. I am a long time listener first time writer, but a few nights ago… things went too far. I just needed to tell someone about what’s been going on out here in the countryside. I’m currently typing this on my phone with my cabin doors all locked and barricaded with my dog inside.

I guess I’m getting a bit ahead of myself though.My story all started about 3 weeks ago just as summer began giving way to fall. At first it was felt as an uneasy feeling falling over the farm at sunset, next I began hearing scratching on the outer wall and roof from my upstairs bedroom in the night. I never bothered to investigate or go outside for the first week, my friend and I just wrote it off as mice in the walls.

If only mice could set off motion sensor porch lights we’d still have an excuse to ignore it… once the porch lights started coming on at night I knew we had a large problem. At first I thought it was just an old internet stalker or something. So the next day o asked Alex of he had heard or seen anything out his window last night. To which he responds. ” oh yeah … I thought I heard you stomping around on the front porch or something. Figured you were letting Zara out to pee.” At this my eyes grew wide with panic and paranoia. ” I didn’t go outside after sundown. A’and neither did zara!” I stammered. “Calm down I’m sure it was just hiss.” He replied nonchalantly referring to our old grey barn cat. ” barn cat footsteps dont sound like people.” I mutter under my breath stomping back into the living room and up the stairs to dig out my uncle’s old 12gauge.

I spent the rest of the day disassembling the old cannon while Alex was at work. After reassembling my shotgun clean and well oiled I strapped on my bowtie knife and headlamp and went outside to feed the rabbits hand cut grass from the crates on the front porch I had neglected to feed them during the day, instead obeying my instincts to do weapon maintenance. That night was the first night I protected our farm from this thing.

Stepping into the cool night air past the 2nd heavy wooden door on the front of our cabin I looked out into the illuminated blackness of the forest in front of me. I didn’t notice it until I was done giving the Male rabbit his grass. The night was still, utter silence… as any hunter or huntress will tell you… that’s really bad.

This sudden realization hit me like a freight train as I was standing up from the females cage from just having latched their door as a heard a single footfall on our gravel driveway behind me. In one swift motion I grabbed my already racked and loaded shotgun and spun on my heel roaring ” halt ! Who goes there!? ” (I’ve played too much dnd I know)

As I do I catch a large lone coyote in my headlamp about 100 feet away and it just freezes mid step. Like a kid getting caught stealing from the cookie jar. so I yell at it
” come on fuck off gett outa here!” And this seems to break its trance like state as it runs off to the forests edge another 150 feet from me.

That’s when everything in my life changed. When it got to this distance it turned back to face me standing on its hind legs. We locked eyes and it held itself up with one paw braced against the tree and opened its mouth slowly, deliberately and as it did so the cries of hundreds of coyote echoed out from all around me. I lost my nerve and fired a deer slug at center mass aiming right for the soloplexis and seeming to have hit it right side of the chest I saw my round connect and knock the creature backwards into the ferns and then saw the ferns russle violently as something scurried through them just below sight.

By this point Alex had run outside to see what all the yelling and gunshots and howling was. ” what in the mother fuck is fucking around right now ?!? ” he screamed exiting the cabin waving a machete and flashlight around like some kind of cartoon parody of a farmer as he was one to do. In a panicky tone I explained to him what had just happened and he seemed skeptical as would any mostly sane person.

” let’s go see if you killed it.” he said after a moment of contemplation.
” oh yeah because a hellhound singing at me with every voice from the fucking barber shop quartet isnt scary enough … let’s chance it through the woods!” I chirp sarcastically pushing a buckshot shell into my semi automatic shotguns receiver following Alex towards the spot I indicated shooting at the thing that looked like a coyote.

After a few moments of standing in the location the creature was when I had shot it we started to hear rustling and as Alex turned his back a brown furry mass the size of a medium sized dog or at least that’s the size of the part that I saw flew through the air towards Alex’s back. I fired 2 rounds of buckshot consecutively simultaneously thanking my gods that the old girl didn’t jam sending whatever this was flying into the bushes instead of Alex’s back. ” are you just firing off into the darkness ?!” He cried wheeling around. ” no ! Something just almost ate you. Your welcome! Let’s get back inside!” I retorted whilst sprinting out of the woods and back towards the porch I could’ve sworn I heard cries of pain and cries for help behind us coming from the trees. slamming the door and locking it as well as the heavy exterior wooden door beyond once Alex was safely back inside. After catching our breath and me reloading my shotgun Alex went over to a dresser in the living room and pulled out a bundle of cedar smudge stick and cleansed and barred the house with old world nature magic which I immediately followed with a sage smudge. We still have odd occurrences on the farm to this night.

Although it seems whatever is stalking my home is now wary of me and the shotgun I have etched symbols of protection upon. It is my belief that the magic I imbued into my weapon using the symbols of my religion is what made my weapon effective enough to protect us. To all those who plan on exploring the old towns and forests of new England bring weapons … and a shaman.

5
Comments

Please Login to comment
1 Comment threads
4 Thread replies
0 Followers
 
Most reacted comment
Hottest comment thread
2 Comment authors
deanbrenden93Raven95 Recent comment authors
  Subscribe  
newest oldest most voted
Notify of