Feed

I fed him. Bread at first. Little bits of leftover lettuce. An egg. Scraps from the dinner table. Nothing anyone would miss. Never anything anyone would notice. I'd sneak out after dinner and leave it where I knew he'd find it. Sometimes it would be there when I returned, orange peels and moldy bread sitting right where I left them. But most times, he ate. Most times, he ate every bit. So I fed him.

At first, he was just a series of odd tracks on the barn's dirt floor. Then a rustling in an old calf stall. Then a shadow. I couldn't tell if he was growing, at first. I couldn't tell if he was well. I just kept feeding him. I couldn't even see him. Just a shadow. And then the shadow that began to grow. The shadow became so mercilessly dark, so hopelessly black, that it sucked in the light from everything around it. Including me. Still, I fed him. And he grew.

It wasn't long before I couldn't even look at him anymore. The shadow became something more. Intentionally dark. Void. It made me feel void to look at it. Thin, like my soul was exposed. Like the breath was being sucked from my lungs. Like my blood ad become sand. Yet, I could feel something in him calling to something in me. I could feel something in that void that was just like me. Something in that void was true of me also. And, though I couldn't name it, I recognized it all the same. So I fed him. And he grew.

After a while, I pretended he was an old dog. An injured fox. A lame bear cub. A sick mountain lion. I couldn't look at him for what he was. The darkness wasn't real. It was a play of light. An old blanket. A speck in my eye. A stain on the wall of the calf stall. I fed him. And he grew.

It wasn't long until scraps of bread and lettuce wouldn't do. I knew that mother would notice if I dared to take more, even from the trash. I was at a loss and nearly panicked until a rat wandered into the calf stall. It drew near to the darkness. And ceased to be. It wasn't long until we no longer had a rat problem. It wasn't long after that that chickens began disappearing. One at a time. Two at a time. Three at a time. Nary a feather or bone to be found. Father blamed it on foxes and doubled the locks on the chicken coop. Still, two at a time. Three at a time.

I fed him. And he grew.

I found my dog's skin in tatters a few feet in front of the calf stall. I stood looking down at the remains, unable to weep, held fast by a cold curiosity. Why had the skin been left?

“So you can remember him. You loved him, no?”

The voice was lush and deep. Cold. Infinite. Ancient. Like a black ocean. Like a bone yard. I froze. “It speaks,” I thought.

“Yes”, it said. “And it hears.”

I wept.

“David, would you like to see something evil?”

I remained silent. And my heart broke.

“Give me your heart, David”, it said.”

“No”, I whispered.

Your heart, David”, it said.

“I cannot”, I said.

“I hunger, David”, it said.

I walked away.

Father disappeared first. I found his clothes in a heap on the south side of the barn just after evening chores. I buried them. A final bandage of sunlight stained the horizon. “Blood”, I thought, and shivered. Mother was certain to ask after him but I wasn't worried. She would be gone soon. I was sure of it. I avoided the barn altogether, fearing it had left me another token – this one from my father. When mother disappeared, I returned to the barn.

The shadow was everywhere. It seemed to pulse, breathing, beckoning. I clenched my fists, resisting.

“David, would you like to see something evil?”

I wanted to say yes. But my heart protested. “Run!”, I thought, and could not. “Fight!”, I thought, and could not.

“Give me your heart, David”, it said.”

“Kill me”, I whispered. “Please.”

“Not yet”, it said. “Your heart, David”, it said.

“Please”, I said.

“I hunger, David”, it said.

I obeyed.

I was careful at first. I brought people that were careless. I brought people that wouldn't be missed. I brought strangers. Loners. Lost ones. Stragglers. But it was bigger than me now. Unrecognizable. Insatiable. Soon, it would be able to feed itself. Soon, I would be nothing more than food. Still, I fed it. And it grew.

“They'll find me”, I said. “This can't go on forever”.

“I hunger, David”, it said.

I had to end this.

There is no barn. Only blackness. I entered the darkness with my father's lantern. I could feel it all around me. I could feel it's hunger. And it was my turn to be eaten.

“David, would you like to see something evil?”

“Yes”, I said.

It showed me it's face.

I dropped the lantern.

* * * * *

(Jared Hill, NH) Firefighters responding to a barn fire in Jared Hill made a grisly discovery once the blaze had been extinguished. The charred corpses of at least a dozen victims were found along with the remains of several dozen animals. Law enforcement officials long on the trail of as yet identified serial killer dubbed “The Jared Hill Strangler” have no comment as to the identity of the killer, citing only that the killer was himself a victim of the fire. Remains were also discovered elsewhere near the barn. "They are human remains. None are complete bodies, they are partial human remains," says one investigator.

A state police rep confirmed that investigators "did locate some bones, and those bones will be transported to the Jared Hill County Medical Examiner’s office."

The Jared Hill Strangler first came to prominence in early May when a string of unexplained disappearances in the area...