Previously: Something Came Into The House Through The Door And Walked Up The Stairs Into Our Bedroom…
It has been an interesting few days. I have so much to say, so I’m going to try to be terse. Sorry that it’s taken so long to report, I really am trying. All of your questions and analysis of these events have really helped us through this struggle – some of your observations are what brought me back here to Colorado.
I landed in Denver International Airport two nights ago and stayed with Faye’s parents in Arvada.
While there, we all sat down and I basically forced them to tell me what was going on. A Redditor pointed out that Laura, Faye’s mom, appeared to be lying/hiding something. Another Redditor asked me if Faye had ever been to the cabin before since her family owned it for almost three decades. I had never even thought of this. When I asked Faye, she said no, and that her parents just used it as a getaway a few times a year. Faye’s mom told me that she’d been there multiple times when she was little.
This time, Faye’s parents told me a different story. They claimed this was “the truth.” Faye had been to the cabin as a toddler a few times, and when she was five, something happened to her. While Greg (Faye’s dad) and Faye were outside, playing in the snow, Faye wandered off toward the edge of the forest to look in. She was following a voice. Greg was building a snowman and keeping his eye on her. They were only a few dozen yards apart.
Allegedly, Greg heard Faye talking, answering questions, but he couldn’t hear anyone else talking. He started walking toward her to bring her back, and he heard her say, “Faye. No, it’s Faye. I can’t see you.”
A moment later, little Faye began shrieking and crying.
She went stiff as a board and Greg had to pick her up and haul her back inside. She was almost catatonic and would go through bouts of total silence or inconsolable hysterics for several hours until Greg and Laura decided to go back down the mountain and take her to a hospital. Greg claims he never saw anyone in the woods, and never heard any voices speaking to Faye. The doctors thought she had an epileptic seizure, and to this day, Faye does not remember ever going to the cabin. When I took her, she acted like she’d never seen it before.
I believe that if Faye did remember being traumatized as a child, she’d never want to go back. So I really think she’s blocked out the whole experience, and when we visited it a week ago, she thought it was her first time going. In Laura and Greg’s subsequent visits to the cabin (without Faye), Greg experienced terrible nightmares in which dead people entered the bedroom and sat on the ground and bed, watching him sleep.
In the morning, Greg let me borrow his truck but refused to go to the cabin with me.
He told me when I left, “We let you kids go up there because we honestly wanted to believe there was nothing actually wrong with the place.” They used us to validate their denial. But I don’t hold them responsible; I’d never have believed any of this if I were them. Dreams and a frightened child do not a haunting make.
I arrived in Pikes Peak around 1PM yesterday and the ranger met me at the cabin. We investigated the place and didn’t find anything unusual, except that a single lampshade had been removed from one of the lamps and placed on the couch. We checked out the nearby woods –
I was kind of surprised to discover that the creepy, enormous dreamcatcher was still there.
The ranger told me he did not recognize it, and it was not something that his people made. He told me not to mess with it until his friends showed up. He told me he’d return with them in the morning, and left.
That night, some shit happened.
Greg told me that he’d hidden a .357 magnum in the closet, so I retrieved it (and a really dope ass purple bathrobe) and felt a little better. Don’t worry, I know how to shoot and how to keep it safe.
Right around sunset, I walked out to Greg’s truck to grab a few things I’d neglected to bring in earlier, and I heard two distinct voices chattering in the woods. It was snowing like crazy and the wind was howling, but above the storm, I heard a gruff, masculine voice, and a younger, adolescent male voice. They were both yammering incomprehensible gibberish from two different places. I hurried back inside and locked the door. The stuff they were saying was pure madness. It made no sense. “PUT THEM UP! UP THERE IN THE TREES!” and “AH TAKE AND TAKE, WALK ON DOWN THERE! GO AHEAD!” I just sat there imagining psychotic cannibals jabbering with their tongues hanging out and eyes rolled back in their skulls.
I figured they’d come out of the woods as soon as it was dark.
I tried to reach out to Faye back home but my phone wouldn’t get any reception in the cabin; the storm was too strong. I tried to play video games on the SNES but I was so distracted by all of the sounds outside. Every single noise the blizzard produced caught my ear, and so my imagination manifested all kinds of horrifying creatures slinking around out there in the dark.
When I finally went to bed, the wind died down a bit, and I heard a few more voices. There was a distant, high-pitched wail that echoed across the entire mountain. There was a child crying, saying something like, “Put me down in the hole” and “It’s so deep you can crawl forever.” But his voice sort of glitched; it would suddenly become deeper, as though a grown man were doing an impression of a little kid. I also heard someone hacking and vomiting and crying, begging for help. I didn’t fall for any of it.
I’m 28 years old, and this is the most afraid I’ve ever been in my entire life
– even with Faye walking around like a fleshy marionette and calling out to a presence in the dark of my own home. Around the time I was getting into bed, approximately 12:45AM, there was a gentle tapping sound on the window in the living room. It was soft, like a neighbor who was reluctant to bother me. I stood there in the bedroom with the door open, holding my breath, trying to figure out if I’d imagined it. Then I heard it again, so I crept down the short hall and peeked around the corner, just in time to see a figure walking past the windows and toward the front door. With the curtains drawn, I couldn’t make out anything but a big shadow.
Then, it knocked on the door. It was a gentle knock. A man’s voice called out softly,
“Hello?”
I just listened intently and tried to keep silent. Eventually, he knocked again, and said,
“Hello? I…I need to speak with you.” He was speaking through clenched teeth. He was either extremely cold or extremely angry.
I very carefully stepped back into the bedroom to grab the gun, but the god damn place is so old the doors creak. I barely tapped the bedroom door as I passed and it squealed like a dying pig. Then the man outside said, just above a whisper,
“I know you’re there.”
For just a moment, in my lethargy, I considered the possibility that this was one of the ranger’s friends, or maybe somebody else who lived on the mountain. I was never going to open the door, but stupidly, I figured talking to it couldn’t hurt. I say “it” because I immediately stopped believing there was a human being on the other side of the door the moment I opened my mouth.
I said, “Who the fuck is it?” as assertively as I could.
The second I stopped talking, whoever it was out there repeated my question while mimicking my voice accurately. It almost sounded like an echo. Then he said,
“May I come in?…Please?” His voice was a little shaky, but it definitely sounded like me. Unnervingly similar to me. But he was still clenching his teeth, so I could hear the difference. I pointed the gun at the door (it was dark in the house so he couldn’t see what I was doing through the curtain), and said, “If you don’t get the fuck out of here right now, I’ll blow you in half.” For those of you who don’t know what a .357 can do to a person, a slug to the chest essentially makes you into a human milkshake. And that’s after passing through two inches of an oak door.
We both just stood there for a dreadfully long minute. It started testing out my voice, groaning and whispering and muttering. It said a lot of things, but I only remember a few of them:
“What’s your name? What’s your name?”
“A little cabin, for the weekend, for the weekend, for fffffffff” and then a bunch of lip smacking and chewing noises
“They’re lying, they’re lying, the ones out there, la la la la la la” (not singing, but just flailing his tongue around and making noises like a child would)
“You aren’t alone in there, and I’m not alone out here. What’s your name?”
and “You go up in the trees or down in the hole, that’s where you go. Oh, they’ll find you. Either way.”
The sound of my own voice making these horrific noises and phrases set every inch of my skin on fire. I can hardly describe the physical sensation of fright this intense. It was almost like having a bad fever, hot and cold and wet and sticky all at the same time. I shouted for it to leave, and said I was armed. I considered firing off one round, but that’s a decision you can’t take back, and my number one rule is to only fire when I’m certain I’ve got a target and a clear reason. I am proud to say that I can use my voice a lot better than whatever it was that mimicked me. I’m a soft-spoken guy but I came down like a fucking hurricane, screaming “I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!”
He replied simply, in a softer tone of my own voice, “I will fucking kill you.” Then it went back to babbling gibberish and knocking politely on the door over and over and over. After another minute or two, it suddenly stopped.
The last thing it said was, “I know where she is.”
Then, it kicked the door – and I mean, harder than any human could possibly kick a door – and ran off. The boom was so loud I couldn’t believe the door didn’t implode in its frame. The person/thing bounded down the wooden patio and off into the snow, and I swear on my life and honor, it sounded like a horse or some other huge four-legged animal charging off into the woods. A child’s laughter rang out, and then everything was silent.
Needless to say, I remained in a cat-like state of delirious paranoia for the rest of the night. The storm picked back up and I did not hear anything else. I spent the whole night debating whether the thing at the door was talking about Faye. I tried to convince myself that it was just yammering more nonsense like all the voices I’ve heard up here, but the way it spoke that sentence haunts me even now as I write this. Its voice, my voice, was purposeful and restrained. It chose the words carefully. And it knew exactly what to say.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what Redditors have been saying about Faye being some kind of doppelganger.
When I first saw the nude woman on my car, I thought it was a trick to lure me into the woods, where the voices lie. I thought the real Faye stopped me from leaving the cabin – but many of you have pointed out that the reverse could be entirely possible, given how the Faye I took home to California is behaving. Given how she has failed all of my tests. And given how her engagement ring has been missing since we got home. So I sat there for hours, considering whether I should go out into the woods during broad daylight, to search for my fiancée. Of course, it is a stupid idea, but now I understand why people in horror movies do idiotic things. If I’m not looking for her, or for answers, why am I here? I need to know what I saw that day in the driveway. I need to know if there are many voices or just one, and I need to know how to get all this back to normal.
I listened to music on my iPod and desperately tried to distract myself by reading news articles online until daybreak. Most of them wouldn’t load because the gods of the internet have cursed this cabin. Around 4 AM, I got up to get some food from the kitchen, and I opened the window curtain a tiny bit to see if anything was going on outside. A ton of snow had fallen.
At the rim of the forest, dozens of yards out, I could see a distant figure standing perfectly still in the moonlight.
He was facing away, staring off into the darkness of the woods. I checked on him every 20 minutes since then; he never moved. When the sun rose around 6:15AM, he was gone. I never saw his face.
Today, the ranger and his two buddies came to the cabin, as promised. They were instantly likeable and warm. One of them, Tiwe, is a medicine man in his 50’s, and was especially cool. The other was his son Nathan, who was probably just a few years older than me. They told me all kinds of interesting lore about Pikes Peak and surrounding areas, and then proceeded to tell me a disturbing story that they believe explains the strange activity on the mountain. For the sake of brevity, I will relay this in my next post.
The ranger gave me one of his facility’s satellite phones to stay in contact with him in case of emergencies. I used it to call Faye but she didn’t answer, so I called Jason and Richard, who are presently caring for her. Apparently Faye had become inexplicably outraged after taking a shower, threw an enormous tantrum, and locked herself in our bedroom. She refused to eat for the rest of the night. Alison and Jason slept in the guest room and Richard slept on our couch downstairs, and worked late on his commissions (he’s a digital artist). He told me that around 1AM, the same time I had my visitor, Faye ran downstairs into the kitchen, eyes closed, and started drinking out of the sink faucet. Then she turned around and “stared” (eyes still shut) at Richard while he sat at the breakfast table. She said, “Felix,” to which he replied, “He’s in Colorado, Faye. Remember?”
and then she said, “We sent him there to die.” Then she sat down right there on the kitchen tiles and went back to sleep.
I’ve instructed my friends only to wake Faye if she does anything serious, so they observed my rules and got her back in bed without much of an issue. For all the crazy shit Faye does when she’s asleep, at least she never gets violent. The guys put her back into bed easily enough. The next day, Alison bailed on the whole project. She said she was awake all night, listening to Faye whispering through the wall. Faye told Alison about how there was a man in the house, and he was asking about her.
My flight home is the day after tomorrow so I’m going to have to figure all this shit out real quick. I’m going to take a nap. It’s nice and bright outside. No voices. Goodnight.
Next Part: After About 15 Minutes Of Talking I Started Hearing A Sound Outside – It Was My Voice
This story is published with permission from the author, Felix Blackwell and was first posted on Reddit.
Cover Image Source: Adam Gessaman