They Wear Our Faces

My name is Scott, and I used to have a normal life in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It was a cold September night in 2025, around 9:30 p.m., when everything changed. That night, I was homeless—five years out on the streets after losing my wife and daughter in a terrible car accident. I thought life couldn’t get any darker, but I was dead wrong.

I was hiding from the cold wind in a dark alley, half-drunk and exhausted. Leaning against a grimy brick wall, I almost fell asleep. Then I heard it—a loud chewing sound, like bubble gum but twisted and monstrous. When I looked, I saw it: a long, pale creature without a face, just a huge mouth filled with sharp teeth. It was biting into another homeless man, tearing him apart.

I froze, terrified, as the creature devoured him entirely. Then, something worse happened—it started to change. Slowly, the slimy gray skin melted and twisted, and the thing took the form of the man it had eaten. I wanted to scream but couldn’t move. Then I saw what I hadn't noticed before—the creature's new face was mine. It was coming after me.

I ran, wild and desperate, crashing into a nearby gas station and shouting for help. The cashier called the police, but when I told them what I saw, they locked me up in a mental institution. Everyone blamed my drinking; they said I was crazy. But I knew the truth—those monsters were real, and they were hunting us.

After months in the institution, I got clean and found a job. I even moved into a cheap motel. But I couldn’t forget the creature in the alley. One night, I saw Michelle, a homeless woman I once knew. But something was wrong—her eyes weren’t human. She didn’t recognize me and told me to go away. I realized then it wasn’t her. It was one of them wearing her face.

I talked to Charles, another homeless friend, who told me the same story—people disappearing, then returning empty and changed. They didn’t remember anything or anyone. They were not human anymore. That night, I heard a scream down an alley. I ran toward it and found another woman being eaten. I charged at the creature, stabbing it through the heart with a rusty knife. It screamed, melted into a disgusting pile of ooze, and I barely escaped as more creatures emerged, chasing me through the streets.

One by one, I fought them off, stabbing and burning, but they were always there, hiding in plain sight. They could wear anyone’s face—friends, family, even strangers. No one was safe. I knew I had to leave Grand Rapids behind.

I moved to Lansing and continued my hunt. One night, I caught a creature in the act—watching me from a car mirror, its true face shimmering in the moonlight. I chased it into an abandoned house and stabbed it through the heart with a wooden stake. But I was hurt badly and had to recover in a motel, knowing this was far from over.

From then on, I became a warrior of the supernatural. I collected silver and wooden stakes, studied myths and legends, hoping to find a way to stop this invasion. I learned their true forms appear only in mirrors on full moon nights. I learned to spot their strange, unnatural movements. I know they’ve infiltrated law enforcement, governments, everywhere.

Now, I live in the shadows, moving from city to city, hunting these creatures wearing the faces of our friends and loved ones. I will never stop. But I also know one day, they will find me. When that day comes, there may be only a handful of humans left, whispered about in dark corners.

This is my life now—always hunted, always fighting against the creeping darkness that wears our faces.

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