07/11 | 02:38 AM

Things are getting interesting. In that, oh, I might be torn apart any moment, kind of way.

My adrenaline just keeps flowing, and my nerves are long past shot. I'm going to sleep after this, but I don't think I'll be able to sleep long. I know this can't be healthy, but the rules are changing. Hell, they are changed. This is necessary.

I'm pretty sure the Freaks are nocturnal now.

I ventured out of my bedroom for the first time today, shortly after my last entry. The sounds coming from outside disappeared and I needed to eat. The fridge is wrecked, and the only food I found was soggy shit that had been previously frozen.

The kitchen window is smashed open. So is the living room sliding door. Which explains how they got in.

I slurped down some canned foods I found in drawers and brought the rest to the bedroom.

The big surprise came when I went looking in my parents master bedroom. Two Freaks were wrapped around each other, knocked out on what remained of the bed.

I froze on the spot, which was stupid, but lucky. They didn't awaken, and I must be loved by some holy deity for that. God, they were ugly. Two males by the looks of it. Bulky, hairless, and bulging. Their jaws were elongated, and rows of yellow blunt teeth jutted out. Their arms also seem unnaturally long, but I couldn't be sure. They were naked of course, their chest huge but their waist narrow, and surprisingly, their skull cavity is larger. Which is strange since intelligence is nowhere on a Freak's resume.

I managed to budge after about a minute and I backtracked back to my room. Which was hard to do, since now I was certain I could hear their wheezing breaths.

After a few hours thought, I was now sure they were nocturnal. The screams and sounds, now that I thought about it, decreased dramatically by day. Not that one might not sound shrilly now and then, but there was a, ah, noticeable difference in frequency.

And this knowledge gave me courage. I need permanent safety, I recognized. And although my room was a good start, it wont last forever. Especially if the Freaks are going to start nesting nearby.

Their senses, smell especially, are supposed to be keen. I was surprised (and thankful!) that they hadn't discovered me already. I have a theory about that actually. The closet I use to do my business. It actually stinks up my room more than I thought. Breathing in fresh air outside allowed me to recognize this, and man does it stink. I suppose this smell might be shielding my location.

I wont find safety here. I see that now. I need to get somewhere more hidden. Somewhere more secure. Yes, my bedroom is barricaded, but only with a tipped drawer and dresser. If something actually had reason to get in, it wouldn't hold for long.

I've been thinking for most of the day, trying to think of someplace close by that might be safe. Or at least, easy to defend. And then I remembered the basement.

I think it might be secure. Last year, my parents wielded metal frames on to all the opening spaces that lead under the house (precaution against raccoons and such) and the only entrance is a slanted wooden door in the backyard.

And there is the problem. The only entrance is blocked. My parents... our escape... the details don't matter. The problem now... the family van crashed right into the house, bringing down part of a wall and clogging up the entrance almost perfectly.

I... don't like going outside. Even if the Freaks are nocturnal. If it was just a matter of getting into the basement, I might be able to bear it, but going out there and searching for the keys of the van... looking through their bodies... I'm not numb enough. The mere thought hurts.

So I came up with another idea.

For the last few hours, I've been smashing through my bedroom floor with a metal bat. It's been hard going, but the carpet's ruined, and I've managed a small opening in the wood underneath. My hands hurt like a bitch and the bat is dented as hell.

I'll work on making it passable tomorrow. I've had to stop for now. The noises are back. The screams. The cries for help. The fear.

I can't give away my location. I'll stop for now.