The Diary

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These are Excerpts taken from the pages of the diary of Danial Marshall.


Dear Diary, It’s a new month and a new entry, It always takes a few days to get back in the habit of writing in you. Where to begin, Well, It’s been a great day. My wife and I took a long walk on the beach. When we returned home she made me dinner. I love her cooking. She made some Itailain dish that I never had before. It was delicious. You know, she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I love her with all my heart and honestly don’t know how I could live with out her. Things haven’t been better between the two of us. (Lucy, I know your going to read this when i’m not looking.. I love you baby)

After Dinner, I took a few minutes to write this entry, I still have to go to the library some time tonight. Nothing else planned after that, I hope to pick up some good reading material, maybe a horror novel or something. Anything to pass the time and help me sleep tonight. If I can’t find a good book, I’ll have to be content with watching T.V. If I do happen find something good then I might have something to write after I’m finished with it.


Wow, that was a crazy book I picked up last night! I almost passed right by it. Something, I don’t know what, made me stop and pick it up. I knew right away that I was in for a ride. It’s called “The Book Of The Damned”. As soon as I got home I started reading it. It was so good I couldn’t put it down. It was about a girl who checked out a book from the library, called ‘Book Of The Damned’, and slowly she lost her mind. She began killing people, thinking that they were demons. After murdering a lot of innocent people she killed herself, and the book was returned back to the library, awaiting it’s next victim. Pretty good plot for a cheap library book of the same name. Almost makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Well, there is something odd I noticed about this book, nobody has checked it out since September 1997. One whole year, And nobody else has read it? It doesn’t make much sense. What’s even stranger is that the last date before was one year’s difference also, Sept. 1996….Sept. 1995, Sept. 1994….. and so on. Very, very strange. Maybe they only put it out every year for Halloween. That’s probably it. But it’s never checked out in October. Only September. I guess it doesn’t matter. Anyway, I’m kind of shaken up about the whole thing. My god, the nightmare it gave me. Well, my wife is calling me, dinner is done. Got to go for now.


Wow. That book must have gotten to me more than I thought. I had another nightmare last night. Demons were after me. That’s all I really remember. It’s strange I can’t seem to shake the feeling I’m being watched. The book, My mind echo’s. The thing is I don’t remember what that stupid book was even about. I just hope these nightmares go away. Why do I even think of these things. Dead tired and I have to go to work now. Fuck.

9-04 -98

Fucking shit. Still having those god damn nightmares. My bitching wife, she got an attitude last night I woke up screaming. So I punched her in the face, A tiny voice in the back of my mind suggested it. She started to cry so I said it was an accident. Even though I did do it on purpose.


Ahh Hell, My wife told me to go to the fucking doctors. The fucking doctors! She thinks something is wrong with me? I don’t know why. Go today, she said, or she’s leaving me. I told her I would. I know there was a time when we were so happy. Right. What would I do with out my better half other hounding me non-stop. Day in and day out. All the time. It never stops. Our marriage fucking sucks. The honest truth, I can hardly even remember what her name is these days. The bitch. That’s what her name is. Teach her a lesson, a small voice suggested. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.


I was walking down the street and people where looking at me strange. i don’t know why! they never seen a naked man before? everything is going wrong. this isn’t me. when i got home my wife was gone but there is this….odor around here. what is that fucking smell! it is starting to piss me off. what happened to me. why wont these dreams stop. i wish i could remember. i started screaming. screaming and writing. and before i knew it people where standing all around me. where did they come from? they are trying to take my diary and pen. i ran to the bathroom and locked the door i need to write. they are busting in. i don’t have much time.


who am i, what am i doing here i want this damned coat off of me, i cant move my arms! but yet I wrote this. how? my diary they took it. i began writing in my head. i must write this. must. word for word. all that happens. it’s important to me. when i am free. when I’m free I’ll get my diary back. I’ll copy what’s in my mind. now every thing is spinning around me but I’m not moving. i see a shadow in the distance. wait what’s that noise……. they’re coming. god damn it. leave me alone!


i don’t know what’s going on i cant get the voice to shut up. the walls are closing in on me i need to get out of here. oh god please help me what did i do to deserve this! things are touching me. probing. needles. pain. they are in the walls. they live in the walls. i feel them but cant see, i know they are there. am i blind? asleep? i hate to dream. the nightmares are worse than this. sleep getting the best of me. taking hold again…. still i must not forget to write. always write. the voice growing stronger, it agrees. it helps me to write. my only friend. how long has it been? am i waking up now?


two days I’ve slept, so the voice says. unable to wake up. they kept me drugged. the inner pain is unbearable. i wouldn’t have wished this on my worst enemy. unfortunately i might be my own worst enemy now. trying to remember how i came to be here. i know i wasn’t always like this. but it seems that they have ripped my identity from my mind… or maybe i just misplaced it. maybe I’ve always been in this pain. they are coming for me again. i can feel it. this time I’m ready…….


it was horrible and exciting. i bit it. the blood pulsing from it’s neck. they thought they could beat me. i laugh at them. my will is stronger than they thought. one dead demon. i owed it. all the pain it caused me. the drugs it gave me to keep me sleeping, don’t they know how bad the nightmares are? covered in blood i stand here smiling and laughing. still writing in my head. must remember. yet i don’t understand, when i went after the other demon it was yelling.. pleading almost. it said..

“doctor! we need help in room 219. call 911. nurse brown has been stabbed. my god hurry. he is coming after me. no. please don’t. no!”

very strange. the voice told me to ignore it. i do. they won’t like what i have done here.


demons came into my room today. one came close. i lunged, tried to bite it. the other pulled him away. just out of reach of my restraints. they spoke but it was all non-sense. what they said is imprinted on my mind.

“watch out! this guy is a real, full blown, fucking psycho.. did you hear what he did? killed his wife and a doctor she brought over to see him. stabbed them both over 20 time’s. then the sick fuck, he stuffed their bodies in the oven, turned it on, and then he left the house naked for a mid day stole. believe that shit? see, a neighbor called the police about the smell. when they got there, they found him standing there naked and screaming. totally fucked up. he was holding a couple books. one was his journal and the other one, some library book. the police brought the books with him. they said it was the only way they could get him under control. they’re in that foot locker over there. anyway, this sick bastard got loose yesterday, attacked and killed two of his nurses. we’re the replacements. so keep your distance Tim.. as you can see, he likes to bite”

with only a vague understanding, i feel slightly sorry for whoever they where talking about. if only i could get my hands untied i would end them.


ten days they kept me drugged up. but tonight i am getting away from this hell. i managed to get free. i don’t know how. maybe one of them let me go. maybe i broke my own restraints. i don’t know. it doesn’t matter. if they try to stop me. like the demons that came before, they too will fall. somehow I’ve become a demon hunter. demon hunter…i like the sound of that. i broke open the locker to get my diary i started to leave but the voice told me to grab the other book as well. I listen. I’m still writing in my head. always writing. i must remember. whats that noise. shit they found i escaped. i have nowhere to go. it’s over. the voice gave me guidance. i have to hide in the air duck till the time is right. again, i listened.


i remembered it all. everything. i had it all written in my head. now i copied it all down on these pages. everything from the moment they brought me to this place. i’m still in the air ducts. they haven’t found me yet. i am safe here it seems. still i must wait.


still not safe to come down. been living off of rats and spiders for almost a week now. got to admit, they are somewhat tasty but it’s not enough. i hunger for more. the voice is getting stronger now. telling me to feed on demon blood. so that’s what i will have to do. it knows best. it forces me to listen.


i came down finally. there was a guard walking the halls. i came from behind and grabbed him by the neck. he screamed as i bit into his throat. deserves to die. they all do. demons. i am an innocent man that was held captive in this hell. now there was a bloody mess. i bit again. and again. tasty. i took his keys. his body was still convulsing as i climbed back into the ventilation system. i could hear them down there searching for me. i waited hours that seemed like days, until the voice told me i could come down again. in the night i came out a several times to collected various things the voice told me i needed. we were planning my escape.


this will be my last post. I’m getting out of here. with the guards keys, i managed to get the bars on a window unlocked. it’s about 20 stories high. the voice says it’s the only way out. I tied sheets together to use as a rope ladder. you and me, diary, together with the voice guiding us. we went through a lot. the voice, is telling me it’s time to leave. for some reason my mind flashes to the library book. has it any importance? does it have something to do with what happened to me. a moment of clarity. none of it matters. leave it here in the ceiling. the voice seem to agree. perhaps it was it’s idea all along. i don’t know. it will remain here, the diary too, no one else will ever get the chance to read it. I’m ready to get out of here.

It’s time to go,

Danial Marshall.
Sept. 30. 1998

This is an excerpt from Baltimore city’s Sun paper. Oct.15.1999

On September 1st 1999, police found a journal belonging to Danial Marshall. With the journal, an overdue library book, ‘the book of the damned’, It had been checked out by Mr. Marshall exactly 1 year prior. They were both found hidden in the ceiling, where it is assumed Mr. Marshall lived during his week long evasion at the Spring Grove mental institution. Mr.Marshall died by apparent suicide. His body was found hanging from the a window on the 20th floor. Police say Mr.Marshall had tied sheets together to form a rope as a means to escape, which he could have. Yet, for reasons unknown, he tied it around his neck and jumped to his death. Spring Grove could not be reached for Comment.

The book was returned before the journal had properly been examined, a major blunder by the police, and since then has been checked out and lost. Based on evidence in the journal, paranormal experts believe the book was the cause of Mr.marshall’s illness and will cause harm to anyone who reads it. They further believe, based on the pattern, police will be unable to track down the book.

Investigators are trying to find the location of the person to whom the book was last checked out, Kris Mallory, of Glen Burnie. He has been reported missing by family. Further investigation into previous readers turned up one fact. Everyone else on the checkout list is deceased. If you have any information on the location of Mr.Mallory please contact your local police immediately.


In 1996 I got the idea about ‘The Diary’ shortly after reading a horror book I checked out from the library, “The Book of the Damned” by D.A. Fowler. You might be able to get a copy from amazon or ebay but don’t even bother checking the library. in 2002 I asked about the book and the librarian told me that all known copies have been lost or destroyed. Strange?

I posted this story on my first website in 1997. It was an Anglefire site, I knew nothing of HTML, and I’m convinced it is the worst website in the history of mankind. Remarkably that site was still up, I happened to find it on Google by luck when I was searching for some old photo’s I had put on line years ago.

I found this story. Badly formatted, poorly written and full of plot holes. I read it over a few times and I remembered that this story was also my first attempt at writing horror. That meant it was worth reviving. I had to make a few major changes to fix some things to make the story flow better and patch up some plot mistakes. The overall story is intact and how I planned it back then. You can tell how young I was when I wrote it. 10 years in the making. I’m happy how it turned out.



  1. james  April 28, 2006

    lol crazy ass but i like it woot

  2. Paul  April 29, 2006

    Ha! Awsome man. It seems some of the best stories I’ve read (or written) revolve around Journals (and Diaries)… Odd huh?

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  4. UnsofsshifT  April 18, 2009

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