The Snatcher

I can still hear him screaming. I don't know what to do; after all, he IS still my son...right? I should probably start explaining. It all started about a week ago on a day like any other.
I woke up to my son crying. I changed his diaper, made breakfast, the usual. It was a Friday, which is usually when I go shopping to refill the fridge, but I had decided to put it off until Saturday.
I was putting my son to sleep at around 9 PM. I was making him his bottle when I looked out the window. The sun had been down for about two hours. My flood lights shone as far as the tree line. It's not like there was much else to see, just about five miles of woods until you hit the main road, then another twenty miles to the nearest town.
I kept getting glimpses of a shadowy figure moving by the windows on my porch. I thought nothing of it; it was probably just my cat, Sam. I laid my son down in his crib, gave him his bottle, turned out the lights, and left. It was about 11 when I first heard it over the baby monitor: a loud scurrying sound.
At first, I thought it might have been Sam again (he sometimes gets in the room when I forget to close the door), but that didn't make sense; Sam was outside, and I was sure I closed the door.
I went in the room to take a look. The only thing that seemed out of place was the open window. I was almost positive it was closed when I left, but the room was so hot I thought I must have left it open and went back out to the living room.
At 12, the baby woke up crying. I sat there for a minute or two wondering if he would ever sleep through the night. I finally lifted myself from my chair to get my son, when he stopped crying.
I listened to the monitor closely and heard low-pitched singing and creaking of the floorboards. Someone was in my house and they had my son. I rushed to the kitchen and grabbed the longest knife I could find.
I felt a chill shoot up my spine as I walked down the hallway towards the door. I slowly opened the door and saw "it." It was tall and mostly hairless, with a few hairs atop its round head.
Its teeth were jagged, its nose was pushed in to the point that it almost looked like it didn't have a nose at all, and it smelled like a rotting corpse.
Its eyes... Oh god... its fucking eyes. They were black and almost looked like it had just empty sockets where they should have been.
It was feeding my son some sort of liquid from what looked to be a glass bottle. It noticed me and left through the bedroom window. I ran to the front door to see my son on the lawn, shivering in the cold moonlight. I opened the door to leave, but as soon as I tried it rushed up the stairs and pounced on me. I got up and noticed it was just trying to get by me.
It grabbed my only phone. Not only was it faster and stronger than me, it was actually aware of what it was doing. It then ran out through the back door and I quickly locked my doors and windows. I went back to my front door to see my son crying on the lawn. He was cold and in pain and that thing was watching him. I tried to go outside, but that thing wouldn't let me.
As I sat there and watched, my son began to change; his hair started to fall out, his skin turning pale. That thing has now started banging on my front door. 
I have retreated to my bedroom. I think they're in the house. I can hear the little one (my son) playing with his toys, and the large one testing the doorknob.
Category:Beings
Category:Diary/Journal