Pages From The Collapse

I don’t even know where to start. Everything’s changed since the last time I wrote.

It happened two days ago. Something found us.

It was night, as always, when the noises outside got louder. At first, it was just that low hum again, but this time it was closer, more intense. Dad was on edge, pacing by the door with his old shotgun like it would actually help. We were all huddled together by the fire, trying to ignore the sounds, but then there was this… light. It wasn’t bright, just a faint glow, but it swept across the field outside the farmhouse like it was searching for something.

We all froze. I don’t even think I was breathing.

Dad told us to be quiet, to turn off the lantern and stay low. But then, there was a noise—a loud crash, like something hitting the side of the house. I’ll never forget that sound. It wasn’t just a thud, it was like… something trying to break in.

We panicked. Matt grabbed a crowbar, Jade had her knife, and Dad stood by the door, his hands shaking on the gun. Mum pulled Hannah and me into a corner, her arms tight around us, like she could shield us from whatever was out there.

Then we heard it—the voices. Not human, though. I don’t know how to explain it, but they sounded wrong. Broken. Like someone trying to speak but the words didn’t fit together properly, I don’t know. It was like nothing I’ve ever heard before. They were circling the house, coming from all sides, whispering in that strange, distorted way.

And then, the windows. There was scratching, heavy breathing. Something was outside, pressing against the boards we’d nailed up. Dad shouted for us to get upstairs, but before we could move, one of the boards snapped, and we saw it—just for a second—a shape, but not like anything I can describe properly. It was tall, too tall, and its eyes… they weren’t right. They weren’t human.

Dad fired the shotgun at the window. The noise was deafening. Whatever it was disappeared into the dark after that, but I could still hear the whispers, fading into the distance. The glow outside dimmed and finally disappeared.

We didn’t sleep at all that night.

In the morning, we checked the damage. One of the windows had been completely smashed, and the front door had deep gashes in it, like something had tried to claw its way in. There were no tracks, though. No footprints, no signs of where they came from or where they went. It’s like they were never there, but I know what I saw. We all do.

Dad says we need to leave. He’s not even arguing with Matt or Jade anymore. We’ve overstayed our welcome here, and now, whatever those things were, they know where we are.

We’re packing up what little we have left. Jade reckons there’s an old military base about 20 miles north of here. Says she heard about it from someone before everything went to hell. I’m not sure I believe her, but we don’t have many options. Anything is better than staying here and waiting for those things to come back.

Hannah’s been acting even stranger since the attack. She hasn’t said a word, not to me, not to anyone. She just sits there, staring out the broken window like she’s waiting for something. I tried talking to her last night, asked her if she was scared. She looked at me with this distant, blank expression and said, “They’re not finished yet.” I don’t even know what that means. I’m scared for her, but I don’t know how to help.

We’re leaving at first light tomorrow. I don’t know what we’ll find out there, if anything, but we can’t stay here anymore. Not after what happened.

The world feels different now. Like it’s not just us fighting to survive, but something else has taken over. Something we can’t see, but it’s there, watching, waiting.

I hope we make it to the base. I hope there’s still something left out there worth finding.

-Nick