Dogs in the Cellar [Proof of concept]

Instance: 13th

Report Description: a juvenile "Bill" William Ford's encounter with a supernatural entity. In the 

An interview with "Bill " 13, has enlightened us on the events.

Testimony:

I was awoken by a horrific shriek.

The glaring sun attacked my eyes through the window; the sun was at the perfect angle to irritate and interrupt my Profane slumber. Soon all thoughts of the Pained scream, were placed in the cupboard of my mind. The duties, that had been bestowed upon me filled my heart with pride; Finally I thought I could pull my weight and raise m household to the heights I knew it could reach, and that began today, with the care of this derelict and hollow manor; which I had the displeasure of calling my home.

The wooden floors groaned under each of my steps, as if it too had been woken from a slumber. Many of the boards bent and flexed subtly under the weight of my body as if stretching, to bear the weight. The house murmured and moaned, with the voices of a past legacy, of my bloodline. An erie light gleamed through the murky windows, partially concealed by the thick curtains. As I beat the curtains back, A thick layer of dust now displaced from their previous tenancy, now coated the inside of my lungs, clinging to the new land; Causing me to sputter like a failing motorcar, pumping its putrid blackened smog. One of many jobs that I had that day.

I remember the warm fire gracing my skin, pulling me from the chill of the barren home, reminding me of my mother and father, great comforts. I buckled the warmed boots around my feet as I Steeled myself for the day ahead, gathering the hounds, I went.

The door creaked open, as if opening the lid to a coffin. The waft of fresh rain and wind, shocked my senses; a stark contrast to the stagnant breath of the house. The erratic wind and dew cloaked me covering the warm smells of dust and rot. A day of guiding the sheep, through the gales.

A trick on my eyes; a taunting shade, skidded past my vision. A flash of shadow dancing at the corners of my eyes, ducking and dove, between the bogs and rocks. This creature, with and elusive form, and invasive features; and the mind of a foul jester. I scoured and sought out the creature, Its powerful strides took it bounding between and around the marsh and thickets, surprising me, as if it could see where I was looking. Bounding and blinking between the rocks never more than a smudge on an aged photograph.

The strange creature of smudged features, taunted and teased me, until the dusk, beckoned me home. I turned round once more, as if in hope of seeing the smudge; Then it stood still, and I stood, beckoned by a naïve sense of curiosity, its form still partially obscured by the winding wood, the creature slowly approached back with another curiosity, a hunters curiosity, the creature bounded closer, growing in size-as did my fear. The previously incomprehensible features, finally hid from me no longer. Its defining feature caught my eyes long pointed claws, snapped and gnarled, like the wood from an ancient oak. Gleaming white fangs, stood agape in the bloodied maw, drooling and thick frothed saliva, beating a resemblance to sea foam; it drenched the flora beneath; it began to contort its features into a malicious grin. Old matted fur, woven the lichen cloaking its twitching from. Then the eyes, a brilliant yellow, a moment, we locked eyes, stuck in a game of goose. I felt the gaze of the predator; one eye A wild Amarillo, with a hypnotizing shine, the second being a marred, and wounded an eye of a soldier whom had seen the horrors, of poisoned air; an infested putrid eye, puss writhing from the lower lid.

A slight twitch from the body of the creature, running, fast and hard my legs hit the ground, my fast breaths, inhaling quick, in contrast to the to the furious steady breaths from the behemoth that followed; with harsh and rasped breath. The door of the house in the distance, a desperate hope.

My ringing ears and blurred eyes which had been focus on the door, bursting through the door like the thunderous gale; wrenching I bolted the door, and prayed. The adrenaline began to fade. Tentatively I gazed upon naut but the verdant green of the grass, nothing in sight. I stared with the fear of a hare caught in a snare, or a deer in fluorescent light. I gazed for any sign to prove and argument against my apparent psychosis, nothing would grace my eyes

The night glazed the land quickly, entrapping the light of the house, the fire accentuated by the night awoke again, warmth filled the house, soothing my soul, I felt as if I was a pastry. The whistle and whine of the house lulled me into the wrappings of sleep.

A foul crashing noise alerted me, followed by a whimpering. I leap involuntarily, and went to save the hound which had apparently fallen into the basement bellow in the rotting guts of the house. The foul stagnant air of the basement washed over me, forcing its way into my nostrils. A thin layer of water, acted like a mirror reflecting the lamplight from above. The basement might have been secured in terms of safety, it was not water proof. The shadows in the basement seemed to warp and fluctuate, dancing in the corners of my eyes. The clattering of the storm pounded warped the storm doors, the bolt and chain lay broken, strewn across the floor. Whippering from behind me, turning and changing into a predatory cackle. I slowly turned in horror, to witness the rancid creature, my mind ran but my body wouldn't move. Yellow rotting teath began to contort and twist into and wicked smile. A twitch from the creature, and I turned to run, something had caught my back preventing me from running; as I looked in horror, its gnarled claws had pierced my ribs latching on and gripping my flesh. The decrepit maw of the creature opened as it bent my neck with its other hand; penetrating, its teath forced my way into me, and began to gnaw and rip, apart my throat. The world began to spin warping I struggled for life. My limp body was dropped to the floor. The last lights of my eyes saw the creature warp and shift, turning from a rabid creature, into a person. The world grew slow, minuets slowing to seconds. She stood over me with the same frenzied eye, with the maggot afflicted orb twinned with it. Her body covered in blisters and boils, teeth with the same putrid froth and blood dripping, she stood with an exited pride. My last moments I spent clinging so desperately to life, like a mother being stripped of her child. Blood dripping in the world faded.

WF: ORICAL, has given enlightening information, as to why he has been recruited for the company. Due to exterior events.

Riding back to the house the parents came, riding back to the creaking house and to their sheltered child, whom they had struggled to leave behind. The storm has prevented their arrival, home before the morning, in the door way they saw their beloved Bill, he receded back into the house, they followed in, wishing to lay their hands again onto their boy. They entered the house, an Erie silence filled the house as a bucket collects cold water, bellow the roof in a storm. They caught the glint of the teeth, and that was the last, they saw.

Classification for BILL, 13: POTENTIALLY MALEVOLENT TERMINATE