John Freeman splashed water on his face and looked in the mirror. His handsome features and confident eyes glared back. On this day, it served as more than a simple routine. It was a reality-check. He wasn’t in a dream. No, this was real.

John threw on a button-down shirt and tucked it into his pants before walking back to the hotel bed. He glanced at the manila folder resting on the nightstand.

Classified.

Of course, the papers in the folder contained no real sensitive information – only the basics. The most important details were divulged orally. John, and others like him, were trained to remember details with a high degree of precision.

John thought back to those details as he sat on the bedside.

——–

“Mr. Freeman…”

John extended a hand as he walked across the office. It was not a situation that John often found himself in. Usually, he was the one demanding respect. But not on that day.

The man John approached was short and stocky, with balding gray hair and small round glasses. There were few in the FBI who ranked higher.

John loosened his grip during the handshake. He didn’t want to appear too imposing. Although his tall athletic figure loomed over the other man, there was no question who was in charge.

“It’s good to see you, Dr. Alexander. It’s an honor to be here.”

Now in his early forties, John was part of the FBI long enough to know how the game worked: Give your life to the job and pay important people their due. That was the only way to get ahead.

Dr. Alexander motioned to a chair in front of his desk and John took a seat. Then Dr. Alexander sat in his own chair. The desk itself was a power-play. It loomed large – and despite Dr. Alexander’s short height, he sat elevated with the desk, putting anyone he met with in their rightful place.

“Mr. Freeman, you’ve been our top field agent for a very long time. You lead a department that only investigates the most dangerous domestic threats. You’ve seen many strange things.”

John smirked but was already growing bored. He didn’t come here to have his accomplishments read back to him. Dr. Alexander evidently picked up on his annoyance.

“I’ll cut to the chase then, Mr. Freeman. There’s a house in Texas we want you to investigate.”

“The cartels?”

Dr. Alexander shot him a glance.

“No.”

John nodded. He had spoken out of turn.

“No… we’ve received reports of… creatures.” Dr. Alexander leaned down and peered at John through the top of his glasses.

“What?…” John couldn’t believe what he just heard.

“There have been an increasing number of reports from townspeople about this house. It sits on 100 acres of abandoned farmland. An old man – Nehemiah Stark – lives there alone.”

“You called me here to investigate a haunted house?” John couldn’t help himself. “I suppose these ‘creatures’ were spotted by stupid teenagers who dared to trespass?”

Dr. Alexander remained unphased and let the outburst pass.

“Yes.”

John shook his head before letting Dr. Alexander continue.

“The frequency of these reports has increased over the last few months. In fact, the word has spread so quickly that it’s creating quite a stir in the small neighboring town. The town newspaper ran a headline last week called ‘The Creatures of Aletheia.’”

“Is Aletheia the name of the town?”

“No. They claim Aletheia is where these creatures come from. There’s no city on this planet with that name.”

“So what are you saying?…”

“All of this would be nonsense – and probably still is – but last week we received a report from the town’s police department. With all the local fuss, two police officers made a trip to the house.” Alexander paused again. “…Their report corroborates the others. In fact, they were terrified. They ran away like all the – ‘stupid teenagers’ – I think is what you called them.”

Dr. Alexander pushed a newspaper over to John. The front page read, “The Creatures of Aletheia.”

“This is the newspaper. All the reports, including the one from the officers, describe the creatures the same way.”

John quickly skimmed the article.

Eye-witness accounts describe the creatures as humanoid in form with pale gray skin. They are totally hairless and thin with sunken cheeks and large life-less eyes.

“Are these things aliens? Zombies? Demons? Maybe all three?” John let out a sarcastic laugh and began to stand up.

“Sit down, John. I’m not saying they’re anything. But this thing is getting too big to ignore. We have to send somebody down to investigate.”

“Why don’t you send my intern down? I think this is more at his level.”

Dr. Alexander stared at John, unflinching.

“John – I’m sending you because you think this is all nonsense. You don’t believe in anything. And that’s what’s made you so effective. Nothing spooks you. You see things as they are. And if there is anything nefarious happening there – well, you have the skills to handle it.”

John cursed under his breath and shook his head again.

“I like you, John. Don’t make a decision that will change that.”

John looked back up at Dr. Alexander. His prestigious career was now on the line. He knew what he needed to do.

“I’ll go.”

——–

A 2002 Ford F-250 rumbled along the dirt path as dark storm clouds loomed across the Texas sky. The old truck was far from the standard vehicle of the FBI, and it wasn’t John’s either. In fact, he didn’t know who owned it – but it was the one given upon his arrival. The goal was to blend in and not raise further suspicion. No one needed to know an old house in the back woods of Texas was a concern for the United States government.

John scanned his surroundings, noting the miles of flat, abandoned land in all directions. A lonely house sat off the road up ahead. This was it.

It was no wonder townspeople were curious. It looked like a haunted house – something out of a corny movie. The shrubberies and trees around the house were overgrown and paint was chipping from the two-story walls. If it wasn’t for the old station wagon in the driveway and light coming from a window, one would have guessed it was abandoned.

John pulled into the gravel driveway and turned off the ignition. He sat for a minute to gather his thoughts.

Go in, search the house, and go home. That was the plan. Put the silly superstitions and crazy claims to rest. In and out.

John felt the handgun resting in the holster around his waist. It was there for intimidation. He knew it wouldn’t be used.

A peal of lightning struck in the distance as John walked up to the front door. He paused, then knocked assertively.

Floorboards from inside gently creaked. John’s trained ear recognized the soft, uneven hobble of footsteps walking with a cane. This was the old man: Nehemiah Stark.

The door unlocked and creaked open.

“Mr. Stark, my name’s John Freeman and I’m from the FBI. I’m here to investigate your house.” John flashed his badge at the old man.

With thinning white hair and beard, Nehemiah Stark stood bent over in the doorway, wooden cane in hand. His eighty years of life as a farmer showed itself in dark wrinkly skin, worn clothes, and clear kyphosis.

A surprising grin spread across Nehemiah’s face and John noticed that his eyes were still blue and full of life.

“The FBI, you say?” said Nehemiah hoarsely. He leaned into John and looked him directly in the eyes, studying them closely. Then he spoke again: “I know why you’re here, John.” He paused again. “I have nothing to hide.”

John stepped into the house and glanced around at the old, worn furniture spread across several small rooms. Nehemiah limped over to a nearby staircase and motioned upward without saying a word. John nodded and slowly creaked up the steps alone.

At the top, John was surprised to find that there was only one room to enter. The door was closed, and the hallway was dark. Without light, John could barely decipher markings above the wooden door. One set of markings looked like an ancient language with curving symbols. The other marking had English-looking letters: ALETHEIA. This is where the rumors came from. John wondered what it meant. Could there really be strange creatures in the room? John balked at the idea. He wouldn’t allow himself to get spooked. Without a second thought, John slowly pushed the door open and took a step inside. …