The Devil's Journal is a story over on my Patreon that went live last week, just in time for spooky season. It's a story written in blog format. I've done one of these before and it was a lot of fun and people enjoyed it. So, I thought, why not do it again? The only way to read this full story is by joining my Patreon page here. A new episode comes out every week until the story is finished. Here's the first entry to help you decide if you want to read on!
Something strange has been happening at my house lately. Things are not normal here. The past few weeks have been, well, strange. I think I’ve stumbled onto something very disturbing here and I’m not sure what to do about it. It only now occurs to me that I should be chronicling this adventure here on this blog. I suppose I need to fill you in on what happened. Here we go.
My name is Desiree Mitchell. I would occasionally write little blog posts here about the beach, my dog, or whatever I happen to be doing. I’ve only got a handful of followers, so no one ever reads these things. I'm unsure how many people will be reading this. Probably not many. But it doesn’t matter. If I even manage to get one of you to believe me...
There I was, vacuuming my house a few weeks ago. I was singing and dancing like an idiot. I always do that. If you have to clean the house, have fun, right? Anyway, my dog Sammie pounced on the vacuum like she does, and the cord got wrapped around my leg. I went down hard. Like a sack of potatoes.
My knee broke a whole in the wall just opposite my dining room table. At first, I was nervous and upset. I rent this house. First thing I thought was bye bye security deposit. But then I noticed something. There was a little nook on the other side of the hole. At some point, there must have been a small pantry here or something. Maybe Harry Potter used to live in my house, I don’t know. Okay, stupid joke. But you get the point.
I peered inside. It was dusty and filled with cobwebs, but not much else. Except for a single lock box. My curiosity was peaked now. I wanted to know what was in that box. I mean, who wouldn’t? A secret box behind a secret wall?
So, I got out the hammer. But that took a long-time because I don’t have a sledgehammer. Just a normal hammer. And it takes longer that I would have thought to bust down a wall. But eventually, I broke the wall down and pulled the little black box free. It was locked and I had no idea how to open it. I thought about breaking the lock, but it looked sturdy. The only way I was getting it open was with a lockpick set. Which, of course, I didn’t own. So, I had to order one on Amazon.
I should have left the box alone. I never should have opened it. What I found inside changed my life. It’s still changing my life and I want this never-ending nightmare to quit. I....
Something is downstairs. I have to go. I’ll update this blog later.
To cover up his search history, Evan Bond is a thriller/suspense author. As an outdoor enthusiast and horror lover, Evan Bond enjoys writing stories where the two come together. He lives in Florida with his wife and two sons.