>Be me, late 2018. Just moved out of folks' house, into duplex with roommates
>One of my roommates owns my LGS
>Dude is 6'7 and 250, good sense of humor, very scary when he wants to be, and is a very good shot
>On his good side, he will do anything for you, has personal code of honor and ethics, etc
>He knocks on my door maybe a month into my living with him
>0130 hrs
>"Get your shoes on, grab your 870, bring warming layers, meet me downstairs in a couple minutes"
>Ohfuckohshit is this real insurrection hours?
>Follow his instructions, now downstairs
>"My buddy called me and told me his best friend went missing yesterday morning, there was a suicide note. The Sheriff's dept won't help. Can I count on you to help out?"
>Emotionally invested in this friendship, "fuck yeah bud"
>we roll out
>Met up with roommate's friend & his search party, we have a mix of pump guns and autoloaders, all 12ga
>Short OPORDER type deal given, we find missingbro's truck parked @ the bottom of a logging road with the keys still in it
>I should mention missingbro is a former marine, having troubles holding down a job, VA won't help him, he's feeling useless
>Local yokels reported they heard a gunshot earlier
>These are not hunting grounds
>We have firearms bc missingbro may be deranged and armed, also cougar sightings in my AO, also shitload of homeless people innawoods, also local yokels and nobody wants to be deliverance'd
>Now 0300
>Search begins, other search party splits off at 0310 or so to investigate a trail leaving me and my roommate to search
>We probably walked every trail out for a mile or two till 0430. No sign of missingbro. Lots of fresh blood trails and shit
>again we are not on hunting grounds
>@ 0445 I ask roommatebro "we've all been on the depression train, do you seriously think someone so defeated is gonna take the time and effort to come this far out to off himself?"
>"fuck no bud"
>"I think he's about a hundred yards from his truck, just out of view. If everything feels like work, I wouldn't move further than I need to"
>As soon as we turn back to go toward where we started, yelping heard @ our 3 o'clock
>nothing there upon investigation, also, none of these blood trails lead anywhere
>Weird fucking noises whole way back, never see shit, no sign of missingbro
>Other search party's lights can be seen off in distance, heading the other way. I don't want to attempt verbal communication, because roommate and I are at blackout status and moving silently
>We get within viewing range of our start point. No lights are on, but we can see silhouettes of our vehicles
>"Alright bud, I'm gonna check along this ditch here and you go look up on the hill. Start shooting if you need help"
>'hill' is covered in lorge stumps and vegetation, start planning route
>I have eyes on the biggest stump in the center of the slope and get this feeling of dread and fear
>Shotgun now shouldered, start moving toward it, expecting worst
>I can see search party 1's lights approaching roommate behind me maybe 75 yards back, I am still blacked out
>Come around the stump
>produce scream I didn't know people could produce, ohmyGOD.jpg
>missingbro cleared his fucking top with an autoloading duck gun
>there is literally nothing from the neck up and I don't think I can describe the scene without making it gross
>feeling of dread intensifies and I feel like I'm at sensory overload
>I don't know how long I stared at this scene, but next thing I know search party 1 and roommate are shaking me back to my senses and calling the sheriff's dept now that we know what happened
>Everything after with the coroners, giving statements, etc is a blur
>Finally home at maybe 0600 at the earliest, I have to be at work in 2 and a half hours. I know I won't sleep but I just want to feel warm and safe
>crawl into bed
>IMMEDIATE paralysis, just like sleep paralysis I sometimes get
>no light in room since almost winter and blinds are shut, but the glow from the keyboard I'm typing on now dully illuminated my workstation and surrounding part of the room
>closet door which is filled completely with clothes, BOG shit, and ammo slams open with the force of God, but no sound is heard
>weird fucking lanky dude slinks out in the most unhuman way I can imagine
>eyes look like endless voids, does NOT look like a person
>I cannot move or vocalize distress
>traces something on my chest with finger, I can't look down far enough to see it
>"your turn"
>closetdude disappears and I can't move till my alarm goes off at 7
>every so often I dream about closetdude staring at me through my 2nd story window. On the 31st, I dreamt he was standing over me again.
I don't know how much time I have. I feel weaker and more depressed as the days pass. I am very quick to anger and now hate my career. At this time, I know in my heart this is wrong. I know I can do great things later, but I feel spiritually weak. Everything feels like work.