I slept for a short time last night but I woke up to a loud scraping noise. I couldn't see a thing, not until I heard a shuffling noise like someone dragging their feet across the dirt floor, then I saw it, well more like THEM, 2 small, round glowing red circles floating in the air not 10 feet from where I am held captive. It took me a few minutes to figure out if I was imagining things or not, until I heard a very raspy, hoarse voice crackle "you need to eat" I couldn't speak, I just stared at those glowing eyes for what seemed like forever and I finally squeaked out "what are you?" I got no response, I think he or it snorted loudly and the eyes disappeared. Next thing I knew, there was a loud squeak and a crash. It was a door closing, I need to find that door. 

First light, there was a rolled up sleeping bag on the floor next to me and a tin can with water in and a hard, stale piece of bread. I worried about being poisoned for less than a minute but after not eating for days, I didn't care anymore. He also unlocked my leg shackle, I didn't even notice until I was setting up my makeshift bed and it just fell open. Does he want me to leave? What if he wants me to run so he can hunt me down? Is that what happened to the other girls? 

I haven't found the source of the little bit of light that filters through but I think I did finally find the door. I'm not sure if it's bolted, I assume it is but I'm scared to push it open and find that thing that has been watching me sleep, I don't think I want to know what it looks like in the daylight. I don't think it plans to kill me, not soon anyway. I need more information before running blind into a trap. I need to find that window maybe I can see outside and catch a glimpse of it. 


...I found the window, it's more like a dirt packed hole in the thick walls, this cellar must be cut into a hill like a Hobbit hole. I can only see the back of the cabin and thick woods all around.  I watched out that window until the light turned grey. I was about to turn back and write this down before the darkness swallows me again, when I got a glimpse of it. It looks human, and very old, I mean really old to the point that his skin looked decayed in places. He had on one of those lumberjack hats with the ear flaps and he appeared to be talking to himself and making that snorting noise I heard last night. I didn't have to look at the face to know that I recognized him. It's impossible, but I know what I saw. 

It was Frank Metcalfe. The guy who died by shotgun to the head. 

Published by Liz Zemlicka