The last image is the picture I scanned. On the back, it has the word "Morgan" written on it.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Jake and Patricia's Scrapbook
So guess what I received in the mail this morning? It's Jake and Patricia's scrapbook.
The last image is the picture I scanned. On the back, it has the word "Morgan" written on it.
The last image is the picture I scanned. On the back, it has the word "Morgan" written on it.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Sleeping
Since last Tuesday, I've experienced issues sleeping. Initially, it was out of a sort of creeping fear, the type you get after watching a horror movie. Then, it progressed into full-on insomnia. I've only managed to sleep in small increments of time. Say, three to four hours on and off. My doctor diagnosed me with having insomnia and prescribed sleeping pills as of Saturday. I've been using them and found myself in a worse situation.
I've been waking up nearly every day since Saturday with an inability to move. It's like I'm awake, but I'm not. My eyelids are open and I see my bedroom, but I can't move. I can close my eyes, then reopen them, but my room suddenly becomes warped and horrible. It's like somebody turning down the colour knob on an old TV while simultaneously twisting the brightness knob to slowly creep to blackness. Everything seems to dissolve, then I shut my eyes and open them again. Everything's normal again and then is soon proceeds to do the same thing until I'm in total darkness once more.
And every time I look in my window, I see it. The Seed Eater stands there, with its ragface pressing against the glass, hissing like a corrupted scuba mask. I only catch quick glimpses of it before it all fades to nothingness.
I've done some research and concluded that this is either sleep paralysis or I'm experiencing frequent night terrors. It's terrifying. I haven't had night terrors since I was a little kid. Not like this.
I've been waking up nearly every day since Saturday with an inability to move. It's like I'm awake, but I'm not. My eyelids are open and I see my bedroom, but I can't move. I can close my eyes, then reopen them, but my room suddenly becomes warped and horrible. It's like somebody turning down the colour knob on an old TV while simultaneously twisting the brightness knob to slowly creep to blackness. Everything seems to dissolve, then I shut my eyes and open them again. Everything's normal again and then is soon proceeds to do the same thing until I'm in total darkness once more.
And every time I look in my window, I see it. The Seed Eater stands there, with its ragface pressing against the glass, hissing like a corrupted scuba mask. I only catch quick glimpses of it before it all fades to nothingness.
I've done some research and concluded that this is either sleep paralysis or I'm experiencing frequent night terrors. It's terrifying. I haven't had night terrors since I was a little kid. Not like this.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
From Unknown
What follows is an email that I haven't been too keen on sharing. I received it on Tuesday and was unsure on posting it. I did, however, reach the decision on updating the site with it. I feel you all have the right to know this info as well as me. The details are somewhat disturbing, but do provide insight into what exactly I've gotten myself into. Please be warned that it may upset you.
From Unknown:
"cliff, i know that there are certain things you may not understand yet, but i can provide answers to your fascination with the rag-faced man. maybe it's because you're only in your late teens that you haven't picked up on it yet, or maybe you live a bit too far away from the area to know of the happenings. despite this, i feel guilty in denying you the truth, regardless of what the prescribed ordinances say.
we can't know exactly when it began, but we know that it's cycle. the hunt doesn't stop for anyone. the rag-face goes after children. for a while, we didn't know why it chose them instead of adults. initially, we supposed that it was perhaps the general strength of adults could overpower it. after all, it is rather frail and bony. then, we began to wonder why it never attacked the old folks home. in fact, it completely avoided that building for all anyone knew. we eventually came to the conclusion that it needs children, preferably before they reach puberty. this assumption was reached by my colleague, richard. his comments werent well received by most of us. it seemed too soon to be discussing that after the recent arrest of a child molester in our neighbourhood. nevertheless, richard's assumption seemed to hold true for any known piece of information regarding the rag-faced man. most of the children had given their testimonies dating back to when they were in the age range of six to twelve years old, a few older and a few younger.
then we set up the ordinances. richard's father had a collection of writings about the rag-faced man stuffed inside of a trunk that he gave to richard before he died. inside, we were able to analyze the testimonies and information to construct a list of seven. these seven rules were never to be broken under any circumstances. the wording we chose was meant to dodge the curses of summoning the creature. our ordinances fit through loopholes in the already set out laws. copies of it were distributed to everyone and we all swore an oath, as we knew it would ensure the safety of our community and the communities surrounding ours.
that was thirty seven years ago.
the rag-face needs children to meet some type of dietary requirement. the younger, the better. on countless occasions, richard threw a fit over mothers leaving baby carriages unattended in the morgan playground that backed onto the woods (which was once known to be its hunting ground). he managed to scare women to tears, educating young women over eighteen about the dangers of being a mother in our community. he made them swear oaths as well, with the local police involved in patrolling its known hunting grounds for mothers not watching their children. if the mothers werent being responsible, then someone had to look out for the kids. this resulted in a spike in crime in our community and the police couldn't handle patrolling the area anymore. eventually, morgan park was abandoned. it sat there, derelict for years until a few years back.
two kids, one of them was named brady, the other ben, went to the old park (presumably to vandalize it, or so we suspected) in the nineties. that area was deemed unsafe and richard made sure that mothers warned their children about that area. we even did our best to set up blockades around the park, but nobody guarded them. the kids just hopped the fence and then they were in. then, around five o clock that night, my neighbours reported screaming from the park. the police, fire department and ambulances came. it was quite the scene. also making a scene was richard, who heavily complained that all the sirens would upset the creature. he thought it would kill us all in our beds. eventually, brady came out into the open, shaking the chainlink fence and holding a baseball bat. both he and the bat were covered in blood and a glutinous mud-coloured liquid. There were so many slashes on his face. i couldn't tell whose blood was whose. i can still remember his mother screaming and ben's mother demanding to know where her son had gone. brady was too shaken to be able to tell. there wasn't a gate on the fence, so the fire crew had to coax him to climb the fence. His hands were so badly cut that his screams must have reached for miles as he climbed the ten foot fence and fell to the ground on the our side of it. to this day, he's the only one we've ever known to have escaped. ben's body was never found. later that same night, morgan park was firebombed by several townsfolk. it certainly wasn't commissioned by me, but i've suspected richard's involvement. it doesn't really matter anyway. it's been ten years.
of course, brady was put into isolation, like a prison. it felt wrong to incarcerate the boy, but if he wasn't, then by our knowledge, he'd be hunted down. brady's still in the basement of the safest place we know possible: the old folk's home. he has security on him 24/7. i dont know how much of our town's budget we put into that, but it must have been a huge chunk. the mayor himself decided the funding, even though richard labeled brady as a curse. our mayor's about as scared as any of us, but not nearly as frightened as richard seems to be. this paranoia kills our town.
I have to warn you, cliff. youre altering the hunt. dont try to fight this thing. i don't know what you think youre trying to do, but youre coaxing an attack out of it. your site could potentially be dangerous for anyone involved with it. dont alter the hunt. stop posting experiences."
Attached to the email was a digital photo of the sheet of ordinances. It was the same as that I had been emailed (minus the bloody writing). Whoever sent me the email forgot to include a name, and their email is one of those "do not reply" type. The email address itself is a random jumble of letters, and they haven't responded to any of my further queries.
From Unknown:
"cliff, i know that there are certain things you may not understand yet, but i can provide answers to your fascination with the rag-faced man. maybe it's because you're only in your late teens that you haven't picked up on it yet, or maybe you live a bit too far away from the area to know of the happenings. despite this, i feel guilty in denying you the truth, regardless of what the prescribed ordinances say.
we can't know exactly when it began, but we know that it's cycle. the hunt doesn't stop for anyone. the rag-face goes after children. for a while, we didn't know why it chose them instead of adults. initially, we supposed that it was perhaps the general strength of adults could overpower it. after all, it is rather frail and bony. then, we began to wonder why it never attacked the old folks home. in fact, it completely avoided that building for all anyone knew. we eventually came to the conclusion that it needs children, preferably before they reach puberty. this assumption was reached by my colleague, richard. his comments werent well received by most of us. it seemed too soon to be discussing that after the recent arrest of a child molester in our neighbourhood. nevertheless, richard's assumption seemed to hold true for any known piece of information regarding the rag-faced man. most of the children had given their testimonies dating back to when they were in the age range of six to twelve years old, a few older and a few younger.
then we set up the ordinances. richard's father had a collection of writings about the rag-faced man stuffed inside of a trunk that he gave to richard before he died. inside, we were able to analyze the testimonies and information to construct a list of seven. these seven rules were never to be broken under any circumstances. the wording we chose was meant to dodge the curses of summoning the creature. our ordinances fit through loopholes in the already set out laws. copies of it were distributed to everyone and we all swore an oath, as we knew it would ensure the safety of our community and the communities surrounding ours.
that was thirty seven years ago.
the rag-face needs children to meet some type of dietary requirement. the younger, the better. on countless occasions, richard threw a fit over mothers leaving baby carriages unattended in the morgan playground that backed onto the woods (which was once known to be its hunting ground). he managed to scare women to tears, educating young women over eighteen about the dangers of being a mother in our community. he made them swear oaths as well, with the local police involved in patrolling its known hunting grounds for mothers not watching their children. if the mothers werent being responsible, then someone had to look out for the kids. this resulted in a spike in crime in our community and the police couldn't handle patrolling the area anymore. eventually, morgan park was abandoned. it sat there, derelict for years until a few years back.
two kids, one of them was named brady, the other ben, went to the old park (presumably to vandalize it, or so we suspected) in the nineties. that area was deemed unsafe and richard made sure that mothers warned their children about that area. we even did our best to set up blockades around the park, but nobody guarded them. the kids just hopped the fence and then they were in. then, around five o clock that night, my neighbours reported screaming from the park. the police, fire department and ambulances came. it was quite the scene. also making a scene was richard, who heavily complained that all the sirens would upset the creature. he thought it would kill us all in our beds. eventually, brady came out into the open, shaking the chainlink fence and holding a baseball bat. both he and the bat were covered in blood and a glutinous mud-coloured liquid. There were so many slashes on his face. i couldn't tell whose blood was whose. i can still remember his mother screaming and ben's mother demanding to know where her son had gone. brady was too shaken to be able to tell. there wasn't a gate on the fence, so the fire crew had to coax him to climb the fence. His hands were so badly cut that his screams must have reached for miles as he climbed the ten foot fence and fell to the ground on the our side of it. to this day, he's the only one we've ever known to have escaped. ben's body was never found. later that same night, morgan park was firebombed by several townsfolk. it certainly wasn't commissioned by me, but i've suspected richard's involvement. it doesn't really matter anyway. it's been ten years.
of course, brady was put into isolation, like a prison. it felt wrong to incarcerate the boy, but if he wasn't, then by our knowledge, he'd be hunted down. brady's still in the basement of the safest place we know possible: the old folk's home. he has security on him 24/7. i dont know how much of our town's budget we put into that, but it must have been a huge chunk. the mayor himself decided the funding, even though richard labeled brady as a curse. our mayor's about as scared as any of us, but not nearly as frightened as richard seems to be. this paranoia kills our town.
I have to warn you, cliff. youre altering the hunt. dont try to fight this thing. i don't know what you think youre trying to do, but youre coaxing an attack out of it. your site could potentially be dangerous for anyone involved with it. dont alter the hunt. stop posting experiences."
Attached to the email was a digital photo of the sheet of ordinances. It was the same as that I had been emailed (minus the bloody writing). Whoever sent me the email forgot to include a name, and their email is one of those "do not reply" type. The email address itself is a random jumble of letters, and they haven't responded to any of my further queries.
From Christina
From Christina:
"My brother and I have always been close, so it came as a surprise when I received this email from him. He's going through Alcoholic's Anonymous, and part of his treatment is confession for things. He's confessed a lot to me, things I wouldn't want to know about, but, as family, I support him and wish to help him. Last night, I got a new email from him that was different than his confessions of crimes or wrong doing. It was a story from his childhood. After discussing it with a friend, they pointed me to your email, and told me you run a blog about people having similar occurrences. If you do happen to use this on the blog in any way, please do not include my email. You're free to use the image attached as well, just again, do not include my email.
/////////
When I was in my mid to late teens (Can't remember exactly when. Wanna say 16 or 17) me and a few friends went camping out in the Everglades with one of the guy's older brothers (two of them, 20-25ish). We were off the beaten path, but still within the designated camping area, and had a small BBQ grill - the portable half-dome ones you typically use for camping. We were cooking hotdogs and burgers as the sun went down, or were going to, but one of us forgot the charcoal in the car, so me and my friend Will made the 10 min walk back to the car to get it while everyone waited back where we had set up camp.
We heard rustling all around, but that's normal. We had been out here before and had gotten used to seeing small animals running about and messing around in bushes. We joked about it, saying the Skunk Ape (a south-Florida version of Bigfoot, sorta.) was coming to get us, but, continued to the car. Everything was uneventful until we got the charcoal and started heading back.
There was a tree, a pretty old one with no leaves. It looked like it had been struck by lightning at one point. Normally animals didn't go near it, save for a few birds who might perch themselves atop it's old withered branches. Well, that wasn't the case that night. We saw something that we thought may have been a couger or something up in it. But as we got closer, we realized it was no cat.
It seemed to be about six to seven feet tall, thin - almost malnourished looking - had wild, matted hair, very long and slender arms that it bent at odd angles, moving them around almost like a 'raver' would 'dance'. It's face was hidden by what looked like a stitched leather or sack 'bag'. It had one eye hole, the other was stitched shut. We were curious and thought it was just a guy fucking around, so we got closer. When we did, we could smell this horrible stench. It was sweet but nasty like rotting fruit, along with a slight metallic scent (Best way to describe it would be that it was like the way blood tastes, but this was a smell.) Will gagged and said we should just keep going. So. We did.
I don't think it noticed us - at first - because we just passed with out incident. At the camp, we didn't talk about it to everyone else, we just ate, joked, set up our tents and slept.
At about 3am, I woke up having to take a piss, so, I got out of my tent, forgetting about the 'man' in the tree, and went out to the edge of our campsite, to another tree, where I releived my self.
Once done, I turned back to return to my tent, when I saw the 'man' stalking around near by. It looked like it had a duck or goose or something in one of it's odd arms and it moved around slow and calculated. Through the light of the lamp we had in the center of our area, I could see it looking directly at me, walk forward a few steps, then bound off in the other direction.
The next morning, Will asked me if I was pulling a prank on him, saying that he saw the masked man come up to his tent when he got up to piss.
I haven't been camping there since. And neither of us have ever brought the subject up to eachother again.
I'll include a sketch of what I remember, though it won't be great quality, I'm no artist.
\\\\\\\\\\"
"My brother and I have always been close, so it came as a surprise when I received this email from him. He's going through Alcoholic's Anonymous, and part of his treatment is confession for things. He's confessed a lot to me, things I wouldn't want to know about, but, as family, I support him and wish to help him. Last night, I got a new email from him that was different than his confessions of crimes or wrong doing. It was a story from his childhood. After discussing it with a friend, they pointed me to your email, and told me you run a blog about people having similar occurrences. If you do happen to use this on the blog in any way, please do not include my email. You're free to use the image attached as well, just again, do not include my email.
/////////
When I was in my mid to late teens (Can't remember exactly when. Wanna say 16 or 17) me and a few friends went camping out in the Everglades with one of the guy's older brothers (two of them, 20-25ish). We were off the beaten path, but still within the designated camping area, and had a small BBQ grill - the portable half-dome ones you typically use for camping. We were cooking hotdogs and burgers as the sun went down, or were going to, but one of us forgot the charcoal in the car, so me and my friend Will made the 10 min walk back to the car to get it while everyone waited back where we had set up camp.
We heard rustling all around, but that's normal. We had been out here before and had gotten used to seeing small animals running about and messing around in bushes. We joked about it, saying the Skunk Ape (a south-Florida version of Bigfoot, sorta.) was coming to get us, but, continued to the car. Everything was uneventful until we got the charcoal and started heading back.
There was a tree, a pretty old one with no leaves. It looked like it had been struck by lightning at one point. Normally animals didn't go near it, save for a few birds who might perch themselves atop it's old withered branches. Well, that wasn't the case that night. We saw something that we thought may have been a couger or something up in it. But as we got closer, we realized it was no cat.
It seemed to be about six to seven feet tall, thin - almost malnourished looking - had wild, matted hair, very long and slender arms that it bent at odd angles, moving them around almost like a 'raver' would 'dance'. It's face was hidden by what looked like a stitched leather or sack 'bag'. It had one eye hole, the other was stitched shut. We were curious and thought it was just a guy fucking around, so we got closer. When we did, we could smell this horrible stench. It was sweet but nasty like rotting fruit, along with a slight metallic scent (Best way to describe it would be that it was like the way blood tastes, but this was a smell.) Will gagged and said we should just keep going. So. We did.
I don't think it noticed us - at first - because we just passed with out incident. At the camp, we didn't talk about it to everyone else, we just ate, joked, set up our tents and slept.
At about 3am, I woke up having to take a piss, so, I got out of my tent, forgetting about the 'man' in the tree, and went out to the edge of our campsite, to another tree, where I releived my self.
Once done, I turned back to return to my tent, when I saw the 'man' stalking around near by. It looked like it had a duck or goose or something in one of it's odd arms and it moved around slow and calculated. Through the light of the lamp we had in the center of our area, I could see it looking directly at me, walk forward a few steps, then bound off in the other direction.
The next morning, Will asked me if I was pulling a prank on him, saying that he saw the masked man come up to his tent when he got up to piss.
I haven't been camping there since. And neither of us have ever brought the subject up to eachother again.
I'll include a sketch of what I remember, though it won't be great quality, I'm no artist.
\\\\\\\\\\"
Sunday, May 9, 2010
From Sarah (possibly related) - Redux
The friend of mine mentioned earlier has found another entry from Sarah on MyLifeIsCreepy.com
"Last night was the same as every night for the last week. That ragfaced man had his face pressed against my window while I was sleeping. Dad's a paranoid freak who set up security cameras in our yard, after that burglar last year. I checked through the tapes, but nothing's ever there, only the camera pointing directly at my window while I'm sleeping. Fifty hours of me, naked in bed, all on tape..."
Again, only POSSIBLY related.
"Last night was the same as every night for the last week. That ragfaced man had his face pressed against my window while I was sleeping. Dad's a paranoid freak who set up security cameras in our yard, after that burglar last year. I checked through the tapes, but nothing's ever there, only the camera pointing directly at my window while I'm sleeping. Fifty hours of me, naked in bed, all on tape..."
Again, only POSSIBLY related.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Ordinanaces?
A friend of mine sent this to me over Twitter last night. An anon over at /x/ posted this image, threatening to break what they called the "Seed Eater Code". I could only assume that the message referred to this image posted. Within lie seven rules or "ordinances":
"1. There is to be no recollection of its hunt, for it is its fuel and provocation.
2. There is to be no interruption of its hunt lest the hunt be turned upon the interrupter.
3. There is to be no attempt at avoidance of the determined hunting.
4. There is to be no scrutiny of its victims, their vanishings or their demise.
5. There is to be no graphical representations which imply its actuality or intentions.
6. There is to be no collective of evidence for its actuality or intentions excluding this set of prudently expressed ordinances.
7. There is to be no intended confrontation.
THE BREACH OF ANY ORDINANCES SPECIFIED ABOVE WILL, WITHOUT REASONABLE DOUBT, ALTER THE COURSE OF ITS HUNT. THIS PRESENTS A CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER TO THE BREACHER. THE HUNT SHALL NOT BE DISRUPTED UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. IT IS TO BE MADE CLEAR THAT THERE IS NO METHOD OF PERMANENT EVASION. IT IS ALSO TO BE MADE CLEAR THAT THERE ARE NO EXCEPTIONS TO THESE ORDINANCES OUTLINED IN THIS DOCUMENT."
Within the thread, someone posted my email address and commanded people to send me messages to alert me that this website is somehow altering the supposed hunt.
4chan is something to be taken with a grain of salt, especially /x/. This could either be a scare tactic or someone legitimately believes that these specifically structured rules can warn people of proper decorum regarding the Seed Eater.
However, it does leave something of interest for us to ponder - the words written upon the page: "IT EATS THEM"
On a different note: my laptop seems to be running perfectly fine. I'm unsure on when my main computer will be available once more, though.
"1. There is to be no recollection of its hunt, for it is its fuel and provocation.
2. There is to be no interruption of its hunt lest the hunt be turned upon the interrupter.
3. There is to be no attempt at avoidance of the determined hunting.
4. There is to be no scrutiny of its victims, their vanishings or their demise.
5. There is to be no graphical representations which imply its actuality or intentions.
6. There is to be no collective of evidence for its actuality or intentions excluding this set of prudently expressed ordinances.
7. There is to be no intended confrontation.
THE BREACH OF ANY ORDINANCES SPECIFIED ABOVE WILL, WITHOUT REASONABLE DOUBT, ALTER THE COURSE OF ITS HUNT. THIS PRESENTS A CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER TO THE BREACHER. THE HUNT SHALL NOT BE DISRUPTED UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. IT IS TO BE MADE CLEAR THAT THERE IS NO METHOD OF PERMANENT EVASION. IT IS ALSO TO BE MADE CLEAR THAT THERE ARE NO EXCEPTIONS TO THESE ORDINANCES OUTLINED IN THIS DOCUMENT."
Within the thread, someone posted my email address and commanded people to send me messages to alert me that this website is somehow altering the supposed hunt.
4chan is something to be taken with a grain of salt, especially /x/. This could either be a scare tactic or someone legitimately believes that these specifically structured rules can warn people of proper decorum regarding the Seed Eater.
However, it does leave something of interest for us to ponder - the words written upon the page: "IT EATS THEM"
On a different note: my laptop seems to be running perfectly fine. I'm unsure on when my main computer will be available once more, though.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
From Sarah (possibly related)
A friend of mine (who wishes to remain unnamed) scavenged this from the website MyLifeIsCreepy.Com
"Today, during my walk home from school, I saw that stupid thing again staring at me from the edge of the forest. It has that raggy anteater bird mask and the nasty hair and it smells like decaying roadkill. Nobody else believes me when I tell them that this rag thing keeps following me through the day, not even my mom. It's been going on for the past week now. MLIC"
Please note that this is only POSSIBLY related.
"Today, during my walk home from school, I saw that stupid thing again staring at me from the edge of the forest. It has that raggy anteater bird mask and the nasty hair and it smells like decaying roadkill. Nobody else believes me when I tell them that this rag thing keeps following me through the day, not even my mom. It's been going on for the past week now. MLIC"
Please note that this is only POSSIBLY related.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
HUGE News/Bad News
I can't say I'm not disappointed, but this is rather crushing news:
Jake and Patricia suffered a flood over the weekend in which their belongings residing in their basement were damaged and/or destroyed. Their scrapbook, which they were planning on sending to me via post, was among the boxes that were drenched in the flood.
However, to compensate, Jake managed to find this more recent image on his old hard drive. This is the first photo of the Seed Eater/Ragface that I've received:
The image is slightly blurry, but the unmistakable form of our Seed Eater is seen in the right half of the image. I don't know when the photo was taken, but I can gather that it either came from a video or was a poor digital photo, possibly taken with a camera phone.
From what I can examine, it either seems to be wearing a hood or has long black hair. Strangely, it reminds me of a sort of aardvark or anteater. I don't have a source on where the picture was taken, other than Winnipeg, Canada. The exact location within the city still baffles me, but also disturbs me. It disturbs me that this thing isn't just within my country or province, but my own city. Jake never specified where or when exactly the photo was taken. I hope it wasn't too recent - I want this thing to stay as far away from me as possible.
A SIDE NOTE: I had to make a copy of the image by copying and pasting the image itself into a new document and re-saving it. I had to delete the original file since it seemed to be infected with a virus. I don't think it was Jake's fault. It completely crippled my main computer, and now I'm resorting to using my laptop. The file was briefly on this laptop as well, so I'm unsure if this too is infected. This copy of the photo, however, should be completely safe to view and download.
I'll post more updates later.
And a huge thank-you to Jake for the picture.
Jake and Patricia suffered a flood over the weekend in which their belongings residing in their basement were damaged and/or destroyed. Their scrapbook, which they were planning on sending to me via post, was among the boxes that were drenched in the flood.
However, to compensate, Jake managed to find this more recent image on his old hard drive. This is the first photo of the Seed Eater/Ragface that I've received:
The image is slightly blurry, but the unmistakable form of our Seed Eater is seen in the right half of the image. I don't know when the photo was taken, but I can gather that it either came from a video or was a poor digital photo, possibly taken with a camera phone.
From what I can examine, it either seems to be wearing a hood or has long black hair. Strangely, it reminds me of a sort of aardvark or anteater. I don't have a source on where the picture was taken, other than Winnipeg, Canada. The exact location within the city still baffles me, but also disturbs me. It disturbs me that this thing isn't just within my country or province, but my own city. Jake never specified where or when exactly the photo was taken. I hope it wasn't too recent - I want this thing to stay as far away from me as possible.
A SIDE NOTE: I had to make a copy of the image by copying and pasting the image itself into a new document and re-saving it. I had to delete the original file since it seemed to be infected with a virus. I don't think it was Jake's fault. It completely crippled my main computer, and now I'm resorting to using my laptop. The file was briefly on this laptop as well, so I'm unsure if this too is infected. This copy of the photo, however, should be completely safe to view and download.
I'll post more updates later.
And a huge thank-you to Jake for the picture.