September 25, 2007:
I’m not one to be easily scared. I don’t scream or jump when I see a spider. I can watch a horror movie without freaking out. But there is something that affects me. Nobody understands why I’m so scared. Nobody understands. But it is the most disturbing thing in the world. I have not seen anything like it. I don’t even understand why it’s so scary.
There is a crack in my wall. To everyone, it looks like an ordinary crack. But for me, there is something extraordinary and horrifying about it. Hovers there in the dark, a terrifying specter in my dreams. Every time I pass, I can hear whispers, the sighs of the forgotten. Every time I lie down, I feel like there is something on the other side, looking at me. Every time I wake up, I feel like something is slipping through the crack. It is not a big crack, yes. It is not an ordinary mouse that scurries away. It clicks, like a crab does. Once, I woke up and thought I saw golden eyes peering through the crack in my wall.
I would like to believe that everything is in my head, that it is my unbridled imagination. But I can not. It is too real. The eyes, the clicks, the whispers. I know they are real.
I tried to cover the crack. I really have. I tried to deal with it. But when I return, I notice that the putty has crumbled, leaving the crack smiling at me unevenly. There is nothing I can do to get rid of it. It is always there. And it scares me, more than you imagine. I fear that. Now I don’t know what is to come.
This is how it reads in a girl’s diary entry. She has been missing for almost a month. His parents knew nothing the night of his disappearance. It is as if it has vanished into thin air. It has made the search for her very difficult, impossible, really. The detective in charge of your case thinks it’s an insider job. He thinks someone she knew lured her outside and kidnapped her. But the only evidence is a drop of blood on the carpet in the middle of his bedroom. It seems to suggest that she was kidnapped. But I don’t think that’s what happened. I don’t think she was kidnapped. No, I think something happened that has to do with the crack in his wall. She was afraid of him for a reason. I can’t rule it out. There’s something about it … I can feel it too.
I am the police officer who watches over the crime scene: his bedroom. No one can enter without the permission of my superior, the lead detective. As I stand by his door, I think I can hear a soft whisper coming from within. I’m going to investigate, but of course, there is no one. None have entered the room. When I turn to leave, I think I can see movement in the corner of the room. I freeze. My eyes move to the source of the movement. A flat, crab-like insect runs out from under the girl’s bed. He sees me standing there and his eyes shine with intelligence. I notice that his eyes have a golden tint. It emits a series of clicks that seem like some kind of communication. A soft rumble comes from the crack in the wall, in response to the clicks. He had been dreading this, hoping against hope that the girl’s disappearance had nothing to do with the crack in her wall. But I turn my head slowly to look at the crack anyway. There are no more cracks. It has been transformed. A huge hole has been cut in the wall. Nervous, I move to take a step back, but somehow they keep me in place. I open my mouth to yell for help, but no sound comes out. The hole opens inward and expands before my eyes. It soon engulfs me completely. There is nothing I can do to resist. I close my eyes and wait for the end …
The wall snaps back into place as the lead detective approaches the house. The hole flexes and yawns again, then shrinks back into a crevice. It seems like before. The crack sighs happily as he awaits the arrival of his next victim. The crab-like insect surveys the room for discrepancies, then sneaks under the bed to wait. A second drop of blood glows on the carpet for an instant before being absorbed. And then there were two.