Yes! Things are turning out great. Sorry if I come off as a little straight-edge. I haven’t slept in the past two days. I’ve been keeping myself awake on coffee and caffeine pills. It’s quite hard to sleep when you’ve watched one of your friends blatantly shoot themselves in the head. I know it happened a while ago, but that’s not exactly something you can get over in a few days’ time. Anyway, as I’ve said, I’ve come across a lot of information in my investigation.

With that being said, I don’t have a lot of information on “The Squealer”. I still don’t even know what that is. However, the people of this town had some stories to tell. Well, there were only a few that were actually willing to talk to me. As for the rest, when I asked them about it, they would quickly close their doors. I guess they’re really afraid of whatever this phenomenon is. I suppose I should start with what I discovered first.

During the autopsy of Norse to get the bullet out of his skull, the coroner discovered a poorly stitched scar on Norse’s abdomen. Now, this wasn’t a stitch you would see done by a professional doctor. Coroner Mitchell told me that this looked like someone stitched it up in a hurry. He determined the scar was incredibly old. It was possibly back from Norse’s teenage years. What really disturbed Mitchell was how Norse was able to go for years without getting that scar properly treated. He was also curious on how the cut was able to go so long without obtaining an infection.

As strange as it may seem, I believe Norse went through his life hiding that scar. Mitchell discovered one more thing. When Mitchell opened the cut, he discovered that one of Norse’s kidneys was gone. He immediately dismissed the fact that this was done by a doctor. The area where the kidney used to be looked incredibly damaged. It wasn’t like someone cut his kidney out. It was like someone swiftly cut into Norse’s side, grabbed his kidney, and pulled it out.

A few days after Norse had killed himself, Sheriff Ivers gave me the task of cleaning out Norse’s apartment and giving his belongings to his loved ones. The only loved one I knew Norse had was his mother. She also lived in town. As a cleaned Norse’s apartment, it felt like I was looking into Norse’s life. I was putting myself in his shoes. I remember seeing a portfolio of pictures he’d taken throughout his life. There were pictures of him as a young child, a teenager, and a few as an adult.

However, this is the part that keeps me up at night. This is the reason I’m hyped up on coffee and caffeine pills. I found that Norse had a personal journal next to his bed. I was expecting there to be journal entries of things he’d done throughout his days, but that’s not what I found. Inside this journal, was pages and pages of him writing about how he was slowly having a mental breakdown because of “The Squealer”.

He wrote about an account he experience when he was 13. He was walking home at night from a football game alone. He didn’t stay that far from the school, so he thought it would be fine. He told how, as he walked, he felt like he was being watched. He felt like something was following him. Every so often, he would abruptly stop and hear the step of something behind him. That’s when it struck. He said something hit him in the back of the head like a bag of bricks. Before he knew it, a large, lanky arm pinned him to the ground. He felt the cold, sharp cut of something gashing into his abdomen. Then, he finally recalled a cold, rough hand digging into his wound and pulling something out. All Norse remembered was a blurry yet large figure darting into the woods. Norse slipped into unconsciousness and didn’t remember anything else. Finally, Norse wrote about how he remember the haunting sound of squealing as he was being attacked. He said it sounded like a mix between a pig, screeching tires, and a human scream.

I was absolutely disturbed. I would normally assume this was some kind of joke, but there were dried wrinkles on the journal meaning that Norse may have cried writing this. It all made sense at that point. Obviously, Norse had some kind of trauma from this “Squealer”. I still don’t even know what the hell that is. I guess when I mentioned the sound of squealing, it pushed Norse over the edge.

That’s not even all. I mentioned earlier how a spoke with a small handful of people. They told me stories as well. A man told me of how he used to have a yard full of dogs. One night, he wakes up to the sound of his dogs yelping and the sound of high-pitched squealing. He runs outside with his shotgun, but it’s too late. Five of his nine dogs had been completely torn to shreds. He didn’t see what did it, but he said that he keeps his other four dogs inside the house from now on.

A woman told me a story of how she and her little sister were walking home from school 12 years ago. She said her sister starting acting weird. She started talking about how she could hear someone calling her in the woods. Before she could stop her, her sister darts into the woods. That was 12 years ago. Her sister hasn’t come out of those woods. She and her parents aren’t on good terms anymore. She says they blame her for her disappearance.

Finally, I talked to the Deacon Wester of the town church. He was very dodgy with some of my questions however. All he really told me was that he was at a pond in the woods preparing a baptism. He said he heard something creeping around the pond. He said he saw it up in the trees. He said it came down on him like a bat out of hell. He closed his eyes tight and prayed like he’d never prayed before. When he opened his eyes, it was gone.

I noticed that Wester used the word “it” quite often when telling his account. When I’m asked him about it, he simply walked away and said he was done answering questions.

Basically, all I’ve gotten so far is that there’s something strange going on with this “Squealer” nonsense, and that there’s an “it” running around. I joined the detective force to help people. I didn’t join to be dealing with some Pennywise the clown bullshit. I’m a detective, not a paranormal investigator. Everyone in this town acts so strangely though. These people are obviously aware that something unordinary is happening here, yet they just dismiss it like it’s nothing. Is this normal for these people? I mean, the other deputies are helpful but not that much. It’s like they don’t want me to know something. It’s like they don’t want to get involved.

I can’t give up now. One of my friends has killed himself, a woman has been mangled to a pretzel, and a crazed nutjob is out there taking body parts. I have to keep searching. I’ve lost too many people in my life to quit. If I stand by and let this happen, I’ll just lose more. As weird as these people are, I don’t want them to die.

I intend to find out what this “Squealer” is. I’ll find out who disgustingly brutalized that woman. I’ll find out what’s going on. If not for myself, I’ll do it for Norse. I’ll do it for these people. I’ll do it for my family...the family I lost. That’s a promise. For now, I should get some sleep.