Mankind has always suspected that he wasn’t alone at the top of the food chain. Since time immemorial, he has had an innate fear of the dark, a fear of the unfamiliar, a fear that something evil lurked just outside his field of vision. Whether he lived in a cave, a mud brick house, or a Tudor mansion, man has been afraid of that noise in the darkness that signified that he was not alone, that something might be waiting to attack him or his family. Grown men could tromp into the woods and play hunter by day, but once the sun set and the moon lit the sky, the unfamiliar snap of a twig or rustling of a bush could make the deadliest of hunter’s blood run cold. Something was out there. He didn’t know what it was, but the hair on the back of his neck stood on end for a reason. Man’s sixth sense that warned of an unseen danger was alive and well and screaming at him; his fight or flight instinct was kicked into high gear.
If that same man experienced nothing, he would of course nervously laugh it off as simply ‘nerves’ or too much coffee. Perhaps it was just an overactive imagination playing tricks with him. But sometimes things would occur that simply could not be explained by the ordinary. Sometimes people would get hurt or attacked by things that defied rational explanation. Sometimes people would simply disappear…never to return again.
Those who did survive, if they dared speak of the horrors they experienced, were often ridiculed by others. Some were institutionalized. Some— the truly unfortunate ones—enter into a special level of Hell reserved for survivors of attacks that can only exist in dime store novellas or bad science fiction movies and horror comics. These poor souls were left to deal with their consequences on their own, all the while asking, ‘why couldn’t somebody do something about the monsters that were out there?’ Why can’t somebody do something to protect the innocent? Why can’t somebody do something to stop the things that go bump in the night?
Somebody has.
This is their story.