“It seems like every day a new gargoyle appears on that old place” My father points out while we drive by the old house. A tall black mansion, one from a classic horror movie, but for some reason every day a new gargoyle appears on the top. “I heard that a serial killer lives there, and the gargoyles are its victims turned to stone” my younger brother George cuts into my thoughts. “That’s Bullshit” my older sister sitting in the front seat claims, “Watch your mouth Mel” my dad raises his voice at her.

We make it home and I head straight to my room to read, unsure of what book to start i pick a random one, “Goils Gargoyles” sounds very cheesy. Who names their books that, it doesn’t make sense. I open the book and begin reading, the book is about a serial killler, one who haven’t been caught yet and is still out there. I get shivers down my spine when i read the next sentence “Takes cover in the town of Cottonwood California.” That’s where i live, its a small country town, full of ranches and farms, not many have even heard of it.

“Goil the serial killer is said to turn his victims into gargoyles, but it has not been proven.” For some reason it feels like i know this story, not like I’ve read it before, but it feels like I’ve lived it. I can’t explain it, i feel as if this Isn’t just a story im reading but a life im living. I decide to start hilighting key details, and annotate it through out the night after i ate dinner.

I woke up on my couch even though i fell asleep at my desk while i was annotating, this would be strange but its not the first time. For the past three years since i was 13 i started falling asleep one place and wake up in another, my doctor said its probably just sleepwalking. “Jenny you want one of or two eggs?” My father asks, peaking his head around the corner from the kitchen to the living room. “Four?” I asked, every time i sleep walk i wake up starving, sore, sometimes even with bruises.

After breakfast i walk back to my room to finish annotating, then i wrote the most important details on little paper notes and pinned them to my cork board after i cleared it off. After three years almost four he still haven’t been caught, and the bodies haven’t been found. “Im headed to the store” I tell my father as i had down the hallways and towards the front door, “Alright just be careful, and stay away from that house” I nod my head in answer as i exit the house.

I head down to the mail center and pick up a whole bunch of old and new news papers and bring them home with me, while walking past the old house on my way back there was another knew gargoyle. I stop in my tracks and stare at it blankly as blood dribbles from the mouth, then another gargoyle started bleeding, then another, and another. I take out my phone and take a video, then run home to show my dad the video.

“What am i watching?” My father says confused “THE GARGOYLES ARE BLEEDING GEORGE IS RIGHT!!!” I yell at my dad in response. “Jenny its a video of the old house… nothing else” I watch the video myself and see nothing, “WHAT THE FUCK” I shout “I swear it was bleeding, they started bleeding dad” i wave at him frantically “Jenny watch your mouth and your probably just tired.” I grunt on my way back to my room and slam my door.

I go through the news papers and cut out photos taken of Goil, each photo either blurry or very dark, but why do i feel like I’ve seen him? I pin the photos to the cork board and cutout important details and pin them as well from the magazines. Who is the Goil, and where dose he reside. My sister walks in “Looks like a serial killer lives here and is trying to find its next victim” She giggles “The fuck you doing?” She then says “Im trying to figure out this whole serial killer thing” I respond looking at the cork board still. “Well dinners ready…” i cut her off “Not hungry” she shrugs and walks away.

I decided that night i would sneak out to the old house, and see if i can find anything. I grab my pocket knife, pepper spray, and a flashlight. It takes my father forever to fall asleep, but when he dose im ready. I sneak out the widow and I walk about two blocks to the old house, its already 1am by the time i arrive. Im face to face with a old gate, it has a passcode to open, I shouldnt know it but for some reason four random numbers pop in my head. I enter the numbers and the gates open, how the fuck did i know the code…

I make it inside the house, the place feels familiar for some reason, almost as if i know this place like the back of my hand. There are five bed rooms, two or which are masters, and there are three restroom and one massive kitchen. I don’t know how i know this.. I just do, this place feels more then just some old house, it holds a secret, I can feel it. As im lost in. my thoughts i hear some voices, i hide as some kids walk into the house,they look to be in the ages between 16 and 18. “This place fucking reeks” a tall blonde boy says “Perfect place to throw the prom after party, we about to fucking destroy this piece of shit” a shorter girl says.

I don’t know why but it angers me, the fact they are planning to use this masterpiece to party and distory. I suddenly start getting dizzy, and the world goes black as i let out a painful scream. I suddenly wake up startled, im laying on the floor in a puddle of blood, but its not mine. Cold pale bodies lay around me, the kids who snuck in here who wanted to throw a party here. I look in my trembling hand, a bloody knife, one that feels so familiar, one that feels as if I’ve held it every day, every night, like it was one with me.

For some reason I have an instinct, one that feels so familiar, but i comply to it. I drag the bodies one by one to the basement, i dip them in wet cement and pose them in a way a gargoyle would stand. This feels right, I know its wrong but it feels right, i drag the newly gargoyles to the top and set them up. Im too calm about this, what is going on, is this just a dream?

i return to the living room, i sit on the couch as i ponder everything, when i hear a clock tower in the corner of the room chime at 3am. Thats when everything hits, my memory’s, I don’t sleep walk, I don’t even sleep half the nights. I am Goil, Goil the gargoyle killer, i murder, and turn my victims into gargoyles. Everything overwhelms me, ima fucking murder and I didn’t even know. I must be fucking Sysco. Im a fucking monster, the gargoyles, friend and family that have gone missing.

It’s to much, I can’t go on, im a fucking murder, I’ve killed so many people, for the past three fucking years I haven’t been caught, haven’t even been questioned by the police. I can’t keep living like this, I can’t kill more people, but as I remember every bloodcurdling scream it sends shivers down my spine, shivers that im addicted to, that bring happiness to me. Im a fucking monster. With the knife in my hand, and no hesitations i kill myself, a world without me is a good thing, no more gargoyles, no more Goil.

Days go by, my father called the police, i was now a missing person until they found my body, cold, pale, lifeless. I was covered in dried blood, on a vintage couch. Ever since i died there has been no more murders or missing people, the police finally put the pieces together and confronted my father. “The story behind your daughters death is an abnormal one, your daughter was going insane, and lost her mind, she was Goil the gargoyle killer, she killed many people. She most likely came to relisation and killed herself to prevent herself from killing more people.” A detective told my family as they broke down into tears, as my father whispers under his breath “She’s not who she said she is.”