Before beginning this story you must understand that despite what peoples beliefs, the following accounts are loosely based on true events.

August 11th, 2017

My two best friends and I were walking the short 8 minutes to an abandoned house. We'd been here on many occasions, each time the house was accessible. For as long as I've known it, there has been no fences or gates around it, just an overgrown driveway – that sometimes was freshly cut. It was a common walkthrough that the locals used as a shortcut to a field that was rather popular among the dog walkers community. Although, saying that, I've only ever seen the walkthrough used once but then again I'm not a local here.

This house always gives me the chills, which wasn't surprising since every time we came here we ran the risk of getting arrested and boy, would my Mum be mad if I got arrested. Like, kicked out of the house mad.

With our camera's in hand we walked up the grassy drive, my tired eyes savagely wandering around every inch of the house's front. All the windows were still boarded the same, the ivy that had climbed the wall was thriving once again. To the right was still the half-demolished shed where I swore I saw a noose once.

Moving around back we passed what used to be an old rabbit or pigeon hut, not quite sure. Whilst doing so we joked about and like usual found a broken branch to carry around as a weapon. What can I say? We're paranoid teens who as tough as we are, aren't going anywhere without some sort of protection. Don't even get me started on the defence strategy we had for the Killer Clown Epidemic. It was brilliant, for your information.

Upon reaching the back I took note of how the frame for the glass patio doors had been pulled off and was now laying with rustic chains looped around it a mere 3 feet away. That was different. That should've been the first warning sign. But alas, since my friends who have had much more experience with this sorta thing didn't question it, I didn't either. After all, we're not the only ones who go Urban Exploring around here.

We were here to take some cool, artsy, Tumblr-ish photos, so without hesitation, that's what we started doing, at this point I noticed some more differences that had occurred from the last time we were here. The dirt covered Christmas lights that were once strung up were now crushed and broken on the ground, and the mattress in the kitchen area had holes the size of a golf ball littering its surface.

It looked as if whoever had been squatting here and left, which isn't strange so I paid no mind to it. That was the second warning.

We'd been inside before, but only the first two rooms, never upstairs either. So that was going to be our mission today. Before gathering the guts to start climbing the stairs we spent a good 10 minutes taking photos downstairs. I even went back outside to the broken door frame as a butterfly had landed on the rusty chains. Disturbingly, after taking the photo I realised that the butterfly's left wing was half gone. I felt so bad for the little thing but ran after my friends as they called me. That should've been the third warning.

We all took a deep breath as we ventured up the stairs slowly, we were mentally preparing ourselves for anything. Ava went first, then Fleur and lastly myself. I was expecting nothing to be up there except forgotten blankets and old mattress or two. Although, If anything was going to be up there I was betting on a homeless person. I'm glad we didn't, I wouldn't know where to begin to help them if I did. Of course, that's if I didn't run away in cowardice first.

I never reached the top floor that day. We haven't been back either. If we do, then I intend to see what the fuss was about and what had been haunting me ever since.

Ava and Fleur rushed me out of the house and then ran, dragging me to the front of the house before stopping to catch our breath. None of us was great at runners and skipped Gym class a lot.

Ava and Fleur took the chance to fill me in as I was looking around confused. Amongst the chaos Fleur had dropped the branch somewhere, so we were at a disadvantage if a knife wielding manic came out out the bushes.

Ava told me how when she reaches the top of the stairs she was met with shadows reaching out and in the corner of her eye she saw a figure shift, that's when they heard a thud. I wondered why I didn't hear anything but then remembered I had zoned out and was too distracted thinking at the time.

Fleur then reached the top of the stairs and stood stiffly behind Ava, with her phone she shined a torch into a long hallway. At the end of the hallway, they saw the thing that terrified them. In the bold red letter's read the name ZoZo. A pentagram accompanied the name. Ava, who had read about this particular demon was shaking and Fleur was freaking out about being too young to die and needing holy water.

I was a little sceptical about it all. As usual. I neither deny or accept the idea or existence of superior beings. After all Myths and Legends, all have some form of preset. They all come from somewhere. Our imagination can only enhance what we know into something glorious. There's a truth behind every fable.

As my friends began to walk down the drive to leave I lingered for a minute, just staring at the house. Now that it was mentioned, I began to feel as if I was being watched, but that was probably just me being paranoid.

That was the last warning...

By the 18th of August, I had forgotten all about the scare that we or more like Ava and Fleur had since I hadn't even noticed anything was wrong until I was rushed out of that house. It wasn't even then that what they had told me began affecting me. The following Thursday, the 24th, was when it started to.

The day's leading up to the 24th, I was stuck in a depressive cycle, with thoughts of injuring myself but then guilt for thinking it followed by an urge to pack up and run and then more guilt. It was a vicious time. My mind so poisonous, I couldn't even crack a real smile for my Mums birthday.

I found it so difficult to get to sleep that night, I couldn't get comfy, first I was too hot then too cold, then too hot again and so on. When I finally got to sleep, I wished for one simple thing. Insomnia. I wished to be awake again. I willed and willed myself to wake up but alas, I remained horrified whilst I slept. Normally I have control over my dreams and I can manage to manipulate what happens, not his time. This time I was under the control of some supernatural entity. Something was using my body. I couldn't take control.

During the nightmare, I found myself in my room, not so much of an odd starting point, but then my family were there, well some of them. The youngest addition to the family was also there in a car seat on the floor - which was definitely odd. In my reality (or what I think is my reality) there isn't a baby in the house. Wailing came from the infant, joined by protective and threatening barks and growls from my dogs. All aimed at me. There was evil around and in me, that's when I realised I couldn't control my body.

I wanted to bend down and comfort the baby, but, whatever was possessing me had other ideas. My head tilted down and smiled at a knife in my right hand. It was my body doing these things, I could see so in my mirror, but there was someone else doing the actions. I could feel them, their heat, they were so warm that was nearly burning me from the inside out. I was enveloped in the stuff, the aura surrounding me was murderous and mortifying.

Whatever was controlling me forced me to pick the child up, I no longer wanted to, too afraid of what would happen next. Still, I tried to imagine something else, perhaps a doll, anything to manipulate this horror and regain control.

It got angry. It used my arms to launch the baby away from me, it stopped crying after that. I didn't want to give up trying, I wanted the infant to be alright and that's when I did it. Or it had enough fun and left me. Before the nightmare ended, whatever had possessed me had flung me back forcefully, luckily for me I landed on my bed.

I had thought, I had hoped that that was it. That I would just have to forget this horror and move on, after all, it was only a nightmare. A nightmare that had me snapping my eyes open, sweat dripping down my back and seeping into my sports bra that I was sleeping in. I was too afraid to move, I felt paralysed, my entire body ached. Worse than how my gums ached when I got the bottom half of my braces put on. It was still there. I could fill its warmth spooning me. That's when I realised my position. I was laid exactly how I was pushed onto the bed. I hadn't moved an inch.

The warmth soon left, and only then did I dare move. I couldn't remember a time when I'd been this frightened. I took a long look around my room. Pitch black as usual, aside from the TV's standby light and the other two lights on the WIFI and Skybox. The train of teddies was hung up on the ceiling just as they had been before, everything was in its usual place, it was all the same, all normal. Definitely no baby anywhere. 02:24 AM my phone read, I'd only been asleep for roughly three hours. I had plans to meet my friends the following day so taking a deep breath I did what any other human being may do.

I turned over and tried to get back to sleep.

I didn't know at this point that it would happen again, I had fallen into a false sense of security, as for the next 5 nights I slept dreamlessly. Occasionally I still felt watched but I had out that down to Anxiety and Paranoia.

On the 6th night I had hope for another dreamless night, and as my luck would have it, that didn't happen.

This time it was much, much worse than before. I had no control whatsoever. I was pushed so far back in my mind that I was just an entity inside another. My body was now the monster and I couldn't do anything but sit back and watch.

Once again, we were back in my room. As opposed to when I went to sleep my room was filled with light, everything was still on the floor. My papers and books, all the electrical wires, hell even the TV had been knocked over and the glass was everywhere. It was chaos, a violent contrast to the rest of the house, that was clean and free of even the tiniest speck of dust. The room itself was a metaphor. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't break free. I was trapped.

Slowly, I descended the stairs, scratching the faces of my family out of all the photos with a nail as I went. Downstairs I noticed that the sun was just beginning to rise. Perfect. They'd all still be asleep. I felt nothing, I was numb, I couldn't stop what was about to happen and no longer feared it. I anticipated it. I just stood silently in the back of my mind shrouded in sadistic aura I couldn't describe the colour even if I wanted to. Some sort of red that was neither blood nor fire, it was something so, so much more deadly.

The kitchen was where I found myself. Specifically, in front of the old cooker. It was broken and I normally wasn't allowed to touch it, but this wasn't me. This was something that grew and grew into something so evil, I bet even Hitler would tremble.

I watched as my bony fingers turned the nob, and then left it pumping gas into the air. It smelt vile, yet it made my body stand there for over an hour if time even existed anymore. I knew that if it wasn't for this thing, this Demon, I would be swaying, ready to pass out by now. It was taunting me, showing me it was superior in every way. I was only human, a monster inferior to this other thing. I was weak.

It wasn't wrong, I couldn't even control my own body.

Taking a knife from the draw I made my way to the living room, where my grandfather slept on the couch. I don't remember his death, it was over so far. No screams of pain came from him either, I wonder if he was already dead.

Retreating back upstairs, the gas wasn't as strong up there. My vision had returned to normal from going cross-eyed for a brief period before. There were the wails again. The baby. It was back. It was still alive. It needed to be silenced. Looking into my room and seeing it wasn't there, I figured it must've been in my Mothers room. After checking for the baby in all the rooms upstairs with no luck, and nobody else awaking to comfort it. I left it to cry. Moving on with a bigger target. Mother.

With the toxic stench of gas and the metallic smell of blood gripping the air, I entered her room. I could faintly hear her awaken and ask what was wrong, I stood in front of her blinking idly. She soon caught the smell of gas and shot up out of bed. As she pushed past me she started shrieking about Carbon Monoxide poisoning or some crap. She was always so loud. How annoying, her shrill voice could give anyone a headache up to a mile away.

Her death should be horrific, they should all feel immense pain. See how they like it. By now everyone had been woken up by Mothers banshee cry, a mixture of voices yelling to find out what was happening.

Then one shrill scream pierced through them all, I could feel the corners of my mouth twitching up. So they found him. Took them long enough. Turning to leave mothers room I entered my own I picked up a box of matches that had conveniently materialised on my dresser. Sitting on my bed, my shaking hands pulled out one of the tiny matches and hypnotically struck it against the side of the box. Flipping the match upside down I watch the flame rise with intrigued eyes. Only dropping it to my matted carpet when it reached and burned my fingertips.

Comforted by the screams, the blood and the smoke from the fire growing in front of me I flipped my light switch off and got into bed, to be lulled asleep to the smell of burning flesh.

06:30 AM my phone read, there was a familiar warmth that was surrounding me again. I could've sworn I heard a deep chuckle as it left. I was still numb, still felt nothing. I decided not to sleep that night. I was too puzzled why the skin on my fingertips had blistered and why my hair smelt heavily of smoke.

By 7 AM my friends were awake and active on our group chat. I decided that now may be a good time to tell them about the nightmares I had where I was possessed by some entity. I was ready to hear Ava's theories about how it was probably ZoZo's doing since that was the only Demon we had knowingly possibly come into contact with.

That's when Fleur sent a link to a news website detailing how a family in the local area had been burned alive their home in the early hours of the morning. That the police were treating this as a homicide investigation.

I decided that I wouldn't tell them about the nightmares. They were to remain just that, fiction. Not reality. I no longer felt numb. I felt, afraid. Anger and hatred towards myself.

How could I have been so weak? Did I do it, if so whose family did I torch?

Instead of talking about it, I buried it deep, deep down. I'll never talk about it to a living soul, ever. It's October now, I fear for what'll happen over Halloween, where the Supernatural are supposedly at their best.

I've had no more nightmares. I rarely feel that haunting presence anymore. Sometimes it's there, but that could just be the paranoia... right?