this post was submitted on 12 Nov 2024
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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Scarlett_Nocturne on 2024-11-11 23:35:21+00:00.


But first I need to give you some context. It was nearly five in the evening, and I was half-listening to the news as I folded the last of the laundry. The newscaster’s voice crackled in the silence of the empty house.

“…with yet another victim, police are considering the possibility that the so-called ‘Dearborn Devil’ is not just a burglar, but something far more dangerous. We urge all residents to lock their doors and avoid going out alone at night…”

I chuckled nervously, glancing around the quiet room. But when the front door creaked open, I froze, heart racing. Philip wasn’t due home for hours.

There he was, in the doorway, staring at me with wide eyes. His face looked different, dark and rigid.

“Philip,” I murmured, offering a smile. “You’re home early.”

“Anna,” he said, crossing the room in long, fast strides. He took my hands, gripping them too tightly. “Pack. Quickly. We have to leave now.”

A chill ran through me, cold as the news anchor’s warning still echoing in the room. “What’s going on?”

He didn’t answer, just squeezed my hands harder, almost painfully. “Anna, we don’t have time. Just trust me. There are people after us. Very dangerous people.”

I forced a laugh, “Philip, that doesn’t make any sense. Who would be after us?”

He swallowed, glancing back at the door like he expected someone to burst through it at any second. “Just pack. Lightly. Just a few things.”

I nodded, searching his face for answers he wouldn’t give, then hurried upstairs. I packed a few essentials, slipping Sterling into my bag. He was my old teddy bear, a constant source of comfort since childhood. As I passed the window, I saw the driveway empty except for our truck, bathed in the fading evening light.

When I came back downstairs, Philip was pacing by the door, his own bag on his shoulder, his face tense. Without a word, he led me out to the truck. A new duffel bag lay in the truck bed, bulging with whatever he’d packed inside.

“What’s in there?” I asked as he slid behind the wheel.

“Supplies,” he muttered, not meeting my eyes. His gaze was fixed on the rearview mirror.

He started the engine and pulled onto the road, just as two police cars rounded the corner. The flashing lights flickered to life, casting ominous shadows around us.

“Hold on,” Philip hissed, slamming the gas pedal down hard.

I gripped the seat as the truck careened down the street, skidding around corners as the police tailed us. Philip surprised me with his driving skills. My heart pounded with every sharp turn, the world spinning as we hurtled through side streets, alleys, anything to shake the flashing lights behind us.

Finally, after a blur of speed and sirens, we shot down a narrow path into the woods, where the police cars couldn’t follow. Philip slowed, and the sirens faded into silence, replaced by the creak of trees and our own ragged breaths.

I swallowed, clutching the seat. “Where are we going?”

“To the cabin,” he said, jaw clenched. “My friend’s place. The police might look there eventually, but it’ll buy us some time.”

The sun was gone by the time we pulled up to the cabin, its broken windows gaping like hollow eyes. The air around it felt thick and heavy, pressing down on me as we stepped inside.

“Philip,” I whispered as the door creaked shut behind us, “please explain what’s going on.”

“Not yet,” he said, rubbing his face with trembling hands. “We need to sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

I nodded and laid down on the narrow cot in the corner. I wanted to argue more but I wasn’t sure who I would be arguing with. This wasn’t like Philip at all. He slumped into a chair by the door, his eyes scanning the shadows. I shut my eyes, listening to his breathing, my mind racing.

Time passed in a strange, hollow silence. Then I heard him stand up, his footsteps soft on the floor as he crossed the room. My skin prickled as I felt something cold and metallic against my ankle—a handcuff, slipping into place.

“Philip?” I whispered, my voice shaking.

Before I could pull my leg away, he clasped the second cuff around my other ankle, locking them tight.

I thrashed, kicking out as he fumbled with the chains. My heel caught him in the face, and blood streamed from his nose. With a snarl, he slapped me hard, and the world went dark.

When I came to, I was sitting on a wooden chair with my wrists bound to its arms. Eric sat across from me, wiping the blood from his face. His expression was calm, almost serene, with a strange gleam in his eyes.

“What are you doing?” I gasped.

Philip smiled, a thin, hollow smile. “Anna, what do you remember about the night our son disappeared?”

The question cut through me like a knife. “I got a call from you. You said he was gone. I dropped everything and rushed home as fast as I could.”

“Where did you rush home from?”

I hesitated a moment before answering, “Sarah’s house. I was with her all afternoon. You know that.”

“Liar!” he roared, his face twisted in rage. “You were with someone else. Sarah told me everything.”

My voice trembled. “What?”

Philip took a slow, shuddering breath. “I got summoned by the police today. I went first thing in the morning because they found some mislabeled evidence. Some CCTV footage. They showed it to me, Anna. They wanted to know if anything looked familiar.”

“What was it? What did you see?” I asked genuinely interested in what clues it might hold despite also wanting to ask what it had to do with my cheating or how the police were after him now.“I saw something familiar. My old car parked on a bridge. Right around when I discovered our son having disappeared from his crib. My car was there when it should have been in Sarah’s driveway. And it’s not you with the car. There’s just this very tall and dark figure, just standing there like he’s staring into the water.

“I’ve never seen him before. I had no idea how he could have had access to my car. The video was warped and it was hard to make out details. Still, I told the police I’d bring you to the station to try and figure out who could have stolen the car without you noticing. 

“But on my way home, I had a hunch. I stopped by Sarah’s and she finally told me the truth. How she’s been covering for your affairs for years. Then it all fell in place for me. Of course you’d be able to hang out with your lovers more if you didn’t have a child getting in the way.”

It was my turn to get angry, “Philip! That is not what happened at all!”

He sighed and reached into the duffel bag to pull out a new meat tenderizer, the cold metal glinting in the dim light.

“The police aren’t after me for what I’ve done,” he whispered, eyes gleaming, “but for what I will do.”

I tried to ask, “Why are you taking this out on me?” but he interrupted with a shout, “WHO IS HE?”

I tried to say I didn’t know who he was talking about but I knew the jig was up. He shut his eyes to steel himself for what he was about to do. I took the opportunity to move behind him. His whole body shook with surprise when he opened his eyes to see the chair empty, the handcuffs on the ground and empty rope tied on the chair arms.

Philip took a step back and stumbled into me. He whipped around with his eyes widening as he finally saw me for the first time. Very tall and dark, I towered over him now.

“Sit down,” I said, my voice low and cold. I pointed a claw at the seat I had just vacated.

Philip’s knees buckled, and he sank into the chair, eyes wide with terror. “What did you do to our son?” he whispered, his voice shaking.

I leaned closer, letting my shadow loom over him. “Why, darling, I told you. As soon as I got your message, I dropped everything… and came straight to you.”

His mind was obviously overwhelmed so I helped him out by commanding him to sleep. He slumped back, his eyes going glassy as my words washed over him. I giggled at how he looked exactly the same as when he was taking his nap 10 years ago. I picked up the meat tenderizer from the floor, feeling its weight in my hand, and a dark smile spread across my face.

“Time to go to work,” I murmured.

When Philip next opened his eyes, he was covered in blood, a thick, coppery scent filling the air. His head throbbed, and he stumbled forward, his hands shaking. I was slumped in the chair, bloodied and bruised, bound in chains.

The police burst into the room, guns raised, and I screamed, my voice cracking. “He’s the Dearborn Devil! He said he’d kill me next!”

Philip stared at his hands, horror flooding his face as he saw the bloody meat tenderizer in his grip.

“No, I didn’t—it wasn’t—” he stammered, but the officers grabbed him, hauling him to the floor. In the chaos, I made one of the officer's guns discharge and that started a chain reaction. They all backed off and fired their guns until it was clear that Philip was no more.

They covered me with a blanket and led me outside, to a waiting ambulance. I looked up at the officer and whispered, “Check his teddy bear. He said he was going to get something in there for me.”

The officer nodded, returning a moment later with a bloody knife in his hand, his expression grim. The knife would match the wounds of all the Dearborn Devil’s victims they had found so far. Including the ones not revealed to the media.

“It’s over now, ma’am,” he said softly. “You’re safe.”

I smiled, a shiver of satisfaction running through me. “Yes,” I murmured. “This game is finally over.”

Weeks later, I was released from the hospital and driven home in ...


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