Day 317

I could have sworn I left the body in that old flat.
Left in sitting in a chair, gun in hand, no prints and nothing to lead back to me.
As far as anyone was concerned I'd just be an innocent landlord.
But when the police arrived to "remove the unwanted squatter" they found an empty flat.
There was no gun, no blood.
Nothing.

I hadn't gone in there since I shot that guy.
He'd been propped up all naturally, door bolted and windows locked.
Someone must have taken him.
They were probably planning to use him against me, put me in prison!
I had to find him.

There were cameras set up outside of the apartment block, checking the feed would be simple.
The first two floors even had cameras in the hallways (they'd always been most problematic).
I saw absolutely nothing unusual on any of the cameras until I checked the one by my office.
I saw this weird shambling thing with half a head missing walking towards my door.
It peered into my window before it sat down in the reception area (four chairs by a wall).

I was pretty freaked out, more so when I looked at the time stamp.
Seems I'd forgotten to check the logs and was on live-feed instead.
Someone faintly tapped on my door and I dialled the police, managing to garble out my address.
Made sure to push my desk against the door just in case that thing tried to break in.
The tapping faded after a few minutes.

I peered through the window blinds and saw its face pressed against the glass, the face I shot.
Not sure how his body got so warped, it looked like he was melting.
I could clearly see his ribs under stretched skin, waist down the skin was flabby and bulbous.
As his breath was fogging up the glass I saw his reach behind his head and into the gaping back.
With blood on his hands he wrote me a message.

When I woke up the police were standing over me.
They said they found me convulsing on the floor, wanted to know about the blood on the window.
I said some crazy man came here and had me confused for someone else, deleted the CCTV film.
Before I did I had a look, it clearly showed that thing, that man I killed walking to my office.
I doubt they'd even believe me.

He keeps following me you know, writing those words everywhere.
People think its some kind of gang tag or political message and I suppose it is in a way.
He's tagging the area, showing me that he's been following me, taunting me.
Sometimes he sits in my waiting room late at night, staring at my door.
Sometimes he stands outside my door, peering through the peephole.

He doesn't even knock any more and he's so quiet I've had way too many close-calls.
My only solution at this point is to face him.
Head-to-head.
I'll do it.
I'll record it.

Wish me luck.