Day 296

Grandad didn't think of himself as a hoarder, he insisted he was a "collector".
It would almost be believable but for the state of his home.
There were countless jars stacked along each and every wall, no room excluded.
They were either filthy or filled with some greyish/brownish liquid.

He made it very clear that we weren't allowed to touch them and never, ever open them.
We weren't allowed to clear up in there but with months of pestering we got him to move some jars.
He insisted on renting a room as near to the sea as he could get, and he had to paint it red.
He had a specific shade picked and everything, it was the same shade as the rest of his house.

In the end he filled three rooms and visited them regularly.
It was good to see Grandad out of the house and socialising more, before he was practically a hermit.
His body wasn't up to all the walking he was putting it through and eventually he became sick.
The rest of the family and myself took turns staying with him for a day, he was so fragile.

My turn came and everything went well, he seemed to be getting better.
The only thing I'd been warned about was the lights, Grandad had this thing about leaving them on.
I dreaded to think how high his energy bill must have been but it kept him happy.
Night came and I went to sleep in the living room, the sofa wasn't too comfortable but it would do.

The lights made it so difficult to sleep, they were too bright and the reflections from the newly
cleaned jars only made the room brighter - it looked like daylight in there!
I decided that if I closed the door I could turn off the lights without Grandad ever knowing.
It seemed like a good idea at the time, before I took a good look at the jars in the dark.

As I was lying on the lumpy sofa trying to sleep, I heard a faint laugh followed by a sharp tap.
My eyes were still adjusting to the dark but I knew it was coming from my left, so I got up.
There was faint light coming from behind the jars, I could actually sort of see what was in the jars.
Not clearly at first but gradually I began to make out shapes, like preserved animals.

I still don't know why Grandad kept them but they weren't all dead.
The tapping was louder and further left, it came from a pretty big jar around waist level.
Crouching down I waited for it to tap again, figuring it was just gas bubbles or something.
Until a tiny fist rapped sharply on the glass.

I fell back and held my breath, staring and waiting to see if it happened again.
A misshapen face pressed against the glass, bulbous eyes staring at me, mouth set in a wide grin.
It looked right at me and laughed loudly before retreating into the jar's murky waters once more.
I kept the light on after that but it didn't stop the others from joining in.

The entire wall became a frenzy of activity, all those tiny hands and faces pressed against the glass.
Each jar had something alive in it and they were wide awake at last.
The light wasn't stopping them, I even used my phone's torch to try and make them stop.
It only made things worse, I got a clear look at them and I don't think I'll sleep again.

They looked mostly human but some were more like worms, they had reticulated looking skin.
Some had no eyes, some were covered in blinking black pinpricks that followed me around.
At least none of them seemed able to speak, only tap and rattle their jars.
I slept in the car that night, I swear I saw them out of their jars and peering through the curtains.

It was some time near morning when I woke up, hearing a loud crash from Grandad's room.
The worst had happened, we didn't think it would after the clean-up.
An entire wall of jars had fallen and crushed him, some had broken but most were intact.
I came into the room just in time to see worm-like creatures scurry under the bed.

Turns out everyone who'd stayed had seen some kind of creature.
We agreed to never opened the rest of the jars.
Just left the house for someone else, what else could we do?
I still see them some times, they creep into my house at night.

I've got a plan though - I'm going to catch them.
My Grandad's jars suddenly make so much more sense, these things are dangerous.
Nobody will believe this... its just me and a few cousins who've seen them too.
We'll set fire to some of the jars to lure the others out and then strike.