The tape recorder's 'record' button clicked in as the man looked into my eyes, and said, "Please state your name, age, and the reason you requested my visit."

This is it, "My name is Jasper, Jasper Lilinouir, age 20. I've always thought I was haunted. Ever since I turned six, things began to move around on their own, but this usually only happened when I was alone."

The man nodded his head, a pen scribbling along a notepad, possibly as a backup method of recording our conversation, before saying, "Can you give me an example of one of these hauntings?"

"Alright... Once, at age 6, I was playing in the sandbox in my backyard, and the dinosaur shovel I was using flew out of my hand. The green handle of the shovel bent into the shape of a nasty grin, accompanied by a disturbing gurgling sound, as if someone was attempting to talk after having their throat slit. I screamed, running back inside my house and crying to my parents."

The man's hazel eyes devoured the image my figure as he looked back up from his note pad, giving me a look that seemed to tell me to continue.

"However, when I turned eighteen, whatever it was got violent. It threw things at me, rather than around me, and it began to whisper to me when my loved ones would die, and it was accurate. It never told me to end my own life, it just kept forcing me to live in fear, threatening to kill my family, until one day it must've been satisfied with its fill of my fear... It has been silent for two years. I've honestly grown a bit numb to fear after living with it for so long."

The man looked back up at me with his hazel eyes, before saying, "What do you mean silent?"

"It hasn't contacted me ever since, not a single word, nor vision," I replied.

The man continued to look at me, then stopped the tape recorder, a wide grin appearing on his face.

His eyes rolled like a slot machine, blue, green, brown, finally landing on the color red when he mockingly said, "What do you mean Jasper, I'm right here..."

"Huh- Ack..."

My throat began to fill with the warmth of my own blood, though I couldn't seem to feel the pain that should accompany this. I see, that gargling from back then must've been some kind of warning that I would die making a similar sound 14 years later, my throat slit open. I'm not even scared, so this thing never got its last meal from me.

'God will probably pay me back for all the suffering I've went through...'

I died, only to be given a rude awakening.

I had no stairway to salvation, only a highway to damnation.

The last thing I experienced before I realized that, is a surge of heat burning up my body, and then the gentle embrace of the shadows.