Monster Magnet

TapTapTap I heard as I drove along in the night. I ignored the

sound, and continue to drive. Dartmoor seems strangely quiet, I
thought to myself. The noise continued for a moment, then stopped. I
looked to my right, and theres nothing but some condensation, like a
child had put their hands on my window, or rather, an adult, because
the hands were larger than that of a child. I kept driving, until the
tapping sound resumed. I glanced to my right, and but there was
nothing there. I continued to drive, until I saw a flicker of motion to my
left. I looked, and nearly screamed. A pair of large, hairy hands with
gruesome yellowed fingernails were pressed up against my window. I
slammed on the brakes, and the hand seemed to press harder. I slowly
raised myself from the seat to look at the hands, and that was just it
Just hands. The hands stopped at about where the elbow would be, and
were large and hairy. They seemed to grow more menacing the more I
saw of them. The left handmy rightremoved itself from my window
and slammed back down, hard. My face turned ghostly pale, which
seems ironic looking back, and I screamed. I lunged across the center
console of my van, and frantically began to disengage the lock. Then I
pausedAs soon as I unlock the door, I will be open to any attack
those hands might launch, I suddenly realized. Its easy to think in
the quiet of a crisis, I thought silently to myself. Then it hit meThe
quiet.

I slowly turned my head and gazed at the window to my left. The

hands werent there. They werent anywhere. I exhaled long and hard.
Then I felt a lurch under my bottom and moved forward. In horror I
watched those horrid hairy hands grip the steering wheel and move
about, turning and swerving me all over the road. I gripped the unlock
mechanism and yanked, but as soon as I did, the hand reached over
and flipped the switch, re-engaging the electronic lock. I panicked and
frantically punched the window. It created a dull thud, but there was no
fracture or crack. I pounded harder and harder, at one point even
taking my shoe off and whacking hard. That only succeeded in the
shoes rubber sole causing it to bounce off and hit me in the face. I
took off my watch and wrapped the band around my palm, smacking
the window. This managed to fracture the window, and I pounded
again, smashing it into a thousand tiny pieces. I struggled to fit
through, and cut my stomach in the process. I landed in a heap of
snow on the cold winter ground. I could see the traffic light of the
intersection just ten feet ahead, and began to stumble towards it. I got
closer and closer to the street of my salvation before that gruesome
pair of horrid hands appeared and wrapped themselves around my
throat, restricting my breathing and forcing me onto the ground. I felt
my throat constrict, not just from the hands, but from the panic and
terror I was experiencing. I felt my eyes squint, trying to contain the
moisture within, before I let the tears fall. I slowly crawled backwards

as my vision dimmed and I began to succumb to the fear and panic

gnawing at my consciousness. Somewhere, though, deep in my
subconscious, some primal instinct kept me going, long past when I
had slipped into unconsciousness. Unbeknownst to me, I hit the road of
the intersection, but the hands didnt. They vanished, goneor at least
until I returned. I woke up several hours later, to a young man shaking
me gently. I slowly opened my eyes and gazed up at him. I realized
that he was talking to me.
Mister! Hey! Hey mister! He said to me. My throat groaned for a
moment, and then cracked. I coughed up some blood and his eyes
widened. I slowly sat up, but I was too woozy to do much other than lie
back down with his guidance. He pulled out a cell phone and called a
buddy. They pick me up and carried me to a truck and laid me across
the backseat. We drove for a while, though I dont know how long
because I fell asleep on the way. I regained consciousness in a hospital
bed with an IV in my arm. Two men in Scottish Yard uniforms were
sitting near me in hospital chairs. I moved my head to look at them,
and the motion seemed to startle the older man. He stood up quickly
and approached me, pressing down on my chest and helping me lie
back down as I tried to sit up.
Son, he addressed me as older gentlemen do, We need to know
exactly what happened last night that left hand prints on your neck
and a van with one broken window and another fractured near you.

I knew he wouldnt believe me if I told him the truth, so instead I

replied, Well sir, I was driving along at night when I saw a man sitting
on the road. Stupidly, I pulled over and asked if he needed a ride. He
told me yes, and I told him to climb in. He did, but it was at this time
that he pulled out a gun. Paralyzed by fear, I had no idea what do. He
told me to switch places with him. I climbed out of the car and stood in
front of it while he climbed over. I began to run to the right, but he fired
a shot through the window, shattering it. I began to run towards the
intersection, hoping for someone to come along and see me. He
dropped the gun and chased after me, grabbing my neck and choking
me. I dropped to the ground and saw a light in the distance: a car. He
gave one final squeeze and took off running, back to the van to
retrieve the gun and then towards the forest to escape the rapidly
approaching light, At this point I paused, trying to read his face in
order to gauge just how much he believed of my falsified story. He
nodded once.
Young man, I am sorry for your troubles, and we will investigate as
much as possible, He stated, before gesturing to his younger partner
to rise and they both left. Shortly after they left, two younger men
came in. One of the men was tall and thin, wore large, wire-rimmed
glasses and an olive green overcoat, in the style that Sherlock Holmes
might wear. He had brown hair in a bowl cut, a hooked nose, and thin
lips. He looked to be the kind of man that had never looked at another

human being with anything other than a silent intonation that they
were competition, or inferior to him. With him was a black leather
briefcase. The other man was short, slightly round, and had rosy round
cheeks that emanated kindness and joviality. He wore a pinstriped suit
with a lime green overcoat. He had the look of a man who considered
all men equal and animal cruelty was should be abhorred. They sat
down quietly, and the taller man pulled a clipboard and pen out of the
briefcase. I pushed myself up against the wall behind me and sat up. I
looked over at them, and the small portly man gazed at me with a
twinkle in his eyes and kindness in his smile. Of the two of them, I
instantly liked the portly man more. I waited patiently, and the taller
man nudged the portly man. He waited a moment, and then spoke
softly.
I know of the hands.

Chapter 2: Relocation
I was stunned, to say the least. At that very instant, I broke down in
tears, sobbing uncontrollably. The kind man walked over and gently
patted my shoulder, muttering words of comfort and help, promises of
help and understanding. A nurse barged in and demanded that they
leave, but I wiped my eyes, straightened up, and told her that I was ok.
She looked skeptical, but left anyways. I wiped my eyes again and
cleared my throat. I stayed silent for a moment, and then asked him in
a shaky voice, What What were they? Who are you? The flood of
questions suddenly broke through my dam of fear, and I asked enough
questions in that short time to stump google for a good billion years.
He held up a hand to stop me, and looked into my water-filled eyes. He
calmly replied to my torrent of questions with one word: later. He
clasped his hands behind his back, and began to pace.
First off, I will answer as many questions of yours as I can later. But for
now, you must be satisfied by what answers I offer you today. My
colleague and I are what you might call cryptozoologists. We study the
unknown, what scientists cant understand or dont have the heart to
pursue. We have an insatiable mind to discover, or have been involved
in the supernatural. What you were attacked by was a legend known
only as The Hairy Hands. They are known for attacking cyclists and
drivers on that particular stretch of road. The only reason you managed
to escape them is that you somehow managed to drive, run, and crawl

your way to the intersection, effectively reaching the end of the hands
jurisdiction. There are very few survivors, and many are ridiculed or
accused of being on drugs. I, however, decided to do investigating and
found multiple instances all over the globe of other supernatural
creatures, creatures that science cant explain and humanity just
wasnt ready to believe in. Thats why I am here today. My name is
Edgar Paulzine, and I am offering you a choice: Go back to your normal
life. Convince yourself that it was a dream, that your magnificent lie to
that detective was actually the truth, and move on. Or, now bear with
me here. You could join me and Mr. Evans here as cryptozoologists, and
discover all the horrors you can imagine, and many you cant. This is
your choice, Mr. Johnson. I will not pressure you, and if you choose to
ignore me, I shall leave with no intention to ever see you again. You
have until tomorrow to read over this document and make your
decision. With that, he stood, set a manila envelope on my lap, and
left with his colleague. When his colleague stood, however, he let the
clipboard droop a bit, and I could see a sketch of my face, as well as
words and a sketch of hairy hands. I felt my blood run cold, and closed
my eyes. When I next opened them, it was an hour later and the nurse
was standing over me.
Mr. Johnson, you are good to go! She said cheerfully. She detached
my iv and handed me a set of fresh clothes. I stood slowly, reaching
out to grasp my clothes. She left, and I changed into them. It was

nothing fancy, a pair of denim jeans and a red cotton shirt. I slipped on
the white socks and sneakers, grabbed the manila envelope, and
signed out at the front desk. I walked out to the parking lot, where I
stared at the empty spot my car shouldve been, and hailed a taxi. I
found one, and told him my address. As we drove, I pulled out the
manila envelope and opened it. I reached in and grabbed the first thing
my fingers met. It was another envelope. I opened that one, and found
a stack of 100 dollar bills in it. My eyes widened and my hands
trembled as I reached back into the manila envelope of riches and
pulled out yet another thick envelope. In it was a wad of cash, with a
note attached.
Dear Mr. Johnson,
Inside of this smaller envelope you found a wad of bills. This is
exactly the fare you will need to get to your house by taxi (including
the tip). In the other envelope, which you pulled out first, contained
5000 pounds. This is about 7,700 American dollars. This should be
enough to get yourself a replacement car. This is also more than
enough money to get yourself a ticket to San Francisco, in the US.
Furthermore, inside of the original manila envelope, you will receive
one final item of interest: A plastic bag. The bag contains two
envelopes: a black one, and a grey one. The grey envelope contains
the flight details of the plane ride to the US. It leaves tomorrow, hence
the twenty-four hours you have been given to decide. In the other

envelope, is a check that contains 20,000 pounds, and expires

tomorrow. Make your choice. I trust you to make whatever decision
you feel is best, and I wish you luck in whatever life you choose.
Sincerely,
Mr. Edgar Paulzine
I re-read the letter several times, my mind still not quite wrapping
around this change of events. I reached back into the envelope, and
sure enough, there was a plastic bag. I stared at them awhile, and then
put both of them back. I put everything back except for the cab fare,
which I handed to the driver when we reached my destination. I
thanked the man, and walked slowly up to my house. I lived in a fairly
nice house, it was a 2 bedroom estate, with 2 bathrooms, a kitchen,
and a living room. I was proud of it, and I wasnt sure I could leave it.
Not that I had made my decision yet, but I was thinking hard. I walked
in and sat down heavily on the couch. I re-read the letter yet again
before gazing at the two envelopes. I stared and stared before staring
some more, not quite comprehending the life-changing choice I was
about to make. I picked up the black envelope, closed my eyes,
reached in, and tossed the contents into my fire place without looking
at them. I opened my eyes and watched as the paper inside blackened
and smoldered, burning and flaking until it was nothing but a pile of
ashes. I quickly opened the grey envelope, taking out the contents and

reading over them. I set my alarm to make sure I got up early enough,
and then went to bed.
BeepBeepBeep! I woke up to the annoying beeping of my black
alarm clock. It read 5:42.
Crap! I exclaimed, before jumping out of bed and rushing towards my
bathroom. I completed my daily routine before throwing on some
sweatpants and a red Under Armor Shirt. I grabbed my backpack,
packed with food and books, as well as my chargers and laptop. I rolled
my suitcase to the curb and pulled out ten dollars. I held them high
above my head and yelled Taxi! Almost immediately, a taxi pulled up
next to me, and I climbed in. We drove for about an hour, before
pulling up to the airport. I grabbed my luggage in walked inside. I
approached the concierge and booked my flight. I paid and left. I
walked through security, entered my terminal, and sat down heavily on
a seat. They quickly called my flight, and I boarded. On the plane, I
decided to do some research once we reached cruising altitude. I
searched my new friends name, and was astounded by what came up.
He had a PhD in biology and history, and was extremely rich. It said
that he had started two major companies and had estates in over ten
different countries, but his largest was in San Francisco! After I finished
my little search escapade, I closed my computer, put my ear buds in,
and took a long nap. I would arrive in about 8 hours. Perfect time for
sleep. I had dreams of monstrous things and fearsome beasts