I believe that I will never know what that creature was. The day I find out shall be the day I die. I grew up in a small town. In my town, there was a story about a creature called the rake that would sit at the foot of your bed and watch you. If you woke while it was watching, it would come back. If you screamed, it would steal your voice. There were only a few accounts of the rake, during none of which the person screamed, in our town, and none at all where the rake had spoken. And yet, every night as we slept I would be plagued by nightmares of them. Then, every few months, another story of the rake would pop up in the town.

One night, I awoke to the rake. I didn’t know it was the rake, at first, as it was sitting on my brother’s bed, next to mine. I thought it was my father coming to check on him. but then I saw its grotesque features. I remember it like a hazy dream. Its pale white skin, and black pits where its eyes should be. I was petrified with fear, and I remember when It turned to stare at me, and I screamed. And once I screamed, It told me something.

I have never been able to talk since then. The doctors call it “vocal dysfunction”, But I know the truth. I have never shared my story with anyone, but…
Every morning since then, I wake up with a new scream echoing through my head.
And every day since then, one more person wakes unable to speak.