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I'm Seeing Creatures out of the Corner of my Eye, and I Know They're Real
I'm bringing this here because I need people to believe me. No matter what I say to friends and family, they laugh it off and suggest me a therapist, or call me Schizophrenic.
This all started two months ago in early December, when I got a phone call from my best friend's mother. This wasn't out of the ordinary, as I was basically part of the family. Me and my best friend, Colin, used to be inseparable.
We exchanged small talk for a while, but her tone darkened when she told me why she called this time. Rather than the usual where she just checks in to see if I'm out of food or not, she said she had called to tell me that Colin had been found dead the night before.
The news came as a shock to me, of course. I had seen him just four days before she called, and he'd been in perfect health and super happy. Though, he did seem just a bit more paranoid than usual. It made me think that maybe there might have been foul play…
However, she then let me know that it was an apparent suicide. He was found in his room lying dead in a blood soaked bed, wrists and stomach cut up. The knife that had done the damage was found laying on the ground near the foot of the bed.
I thanked her for telling me what had happened to Colin, and offered her any sort of aid I could give her, whether that be financial, emotional, or whatever else I may need to provide.
I won't lie, I had teared up and I talked mostly through sobs. She was talking the same, and I could hear her husband attempting to comfort her through the phone. Then she let me know that Colin had left something to me.
She said it was a collection of about five different notebooks that Colin had said should not be looked through by anyone but me. I asked her if she knew why Colin wanted me to be the one he trusted with the notebooks, but she said she had no idea.
We exchanged a few memories of Colin through more tears, but eventually she wished me a good one and hung up.
Fast forward two weeks, where Christmas is less than a week away, and I have the notebooks laid out across my bed. In the two weeks since she'd called me, we'd held a small funeral for Colin and had him cremated. His parents kept the ashes, I believe. She had passed the notebooks unto me just before she pulled out of the parking lot.
It was late at night, probably some time past two in the morning. I grabbed the first notebook and brought it to the desk in the corner of the room. I read by the light of the lamp next to me.
The first page was a small paragraph of messy writing,
“Dear Blue, I hope that you're the one that's reading this. If you have these, I've probably been killed. I discovered some time ago that the things I was seeing weren't just figments of my imagination. They'll be the things that kill me.”
The writing was of course addressed to me. I had recently changed my name to Blue, within the past three months. That meant this note was written somewhat recently.
I flipped to the next page and my jaw dropped. All across the page were drawings of tall, humanoid creatures with weird looking eyes. There was no empty space between the drawings, as he'd filled the space up with words. They were all things you'd expect of one of the insane.
“They're real?” and, “He sees me,” as well as stuff like, “Who else can see them?”
It was unsettling, of course.
I flipped through the rest of the book, finding dozens of different variations of the creature. Some where it was shorter but larger, some where it was unreasonably tall and gaunt, where the arms looked like they were missing flesh, just skin stretched over bones.
I reached the end of the first notebook, and felt my hands shake. I pushed the notebook aside and reached for the next one. I flipped through this one- and the rest- and found the same thing in each.
That is, except for the final page on the last book. I knew this was the last book because they were numbered in permanent marker across the front, with his name in pen beneath the large numbers. This one was marked with the number 5.
At the end was another paragraph written just like the first one. This one looked like it was written hurriedly, and I noticed a few dots where the lined paper seemed to have had the blue lines curl, as if something had dripped onto the page.
It wrote,
“Blue, this is the last you'll ever hear from me. I saw it again. I hear it now. It won't leave a trace. It's smarter than we think it is. It has a knife.”
The rest of the note was unintelligible. I closed the notebook, and only then noticed I had been holding my breath. My heart was beating fast in my chest. I never thought some drawings and words could scare me this much.
I pondered calling Colin's mother, but thought better of it as it was sometime past three now. I decided to call it a night as well.
As I turned off the lamp and piled the notebooks on the corner of the desk, I swore I could see something moving out the window from the corner of my eye.
But every time I glanced back out the window, there was nothing there. I thought that maybe my lack of sleep was getting to me.
I laid in bed and tried to sleep. It took me around an hour to fall asleep. I was tossing and turning the whole night, thinking about Colin and his weird notebooks.
Now we skip ahead to late January. I had been seeing things out of the corner of my eye for the last month, and I felt as if I was starting to lose my mind. I had begun going to therapy, but immediately stopped going when they suggested me pills. In the beginning I would have jumped at the opportunity, but after some time I started to believe it was real.
Then, that one night in January, this all turned from ten to one hundred real quick.
I had just parked my car in my parking spot in front of my apartment, and unloaded some of the groceries I had just bought. I made a few trips, and as I brought the last few bags inside, I walked back outside to lock the car.
The moment I opened the door, I froze where I was. Right there, sitting in the passenger seat of my car, was a familiar creature.
A tall, seemingly fleshless creature with skin as white as the moon sat staring down at its legs. Its knees were at its chest, and its feet were down off the seat. It must have been scarily tall.
My breath caught in my throat and I felt my vision go blurry. I blinked a few times, and finally felt myself regain control of my body. I took a step back, slowly backing into my apartment.
I reached for the door behind me, and moved to shut it. The moment I touched the door, the creature's head shot up, and it was staring me dead in the eyes with eyes that seemed to take the light away. They were almost like holes in its face that led into the void. As it saw the fear on my face, its lips slowly curled upwards into an unnatural and terrifying smile.
I leapt back and slammed the door, then locked it and quickly rushed to find a chair to lodge beneath the doorknob and the floor as an added measure of security.
I ran to my room, and collapsed after shutting the door and closing the blinds. I broke into sobs immediately, realising that if this was the thing that killed Colin, I was surely next. I was going to die.
I tried to get it together, to be able to clear my head enough to know I'd make smarter decisions I'd I needed it. I began muttering to myself out loud, “I'm not gonna die. I won't die. I won't let myself fucking die. I can't…”
I trailed off, and began breathing slower. I felt myself calm down, and eventually I was able to relax my tensed muscles.
I stood up after a moment of breathing, and walked back out to the front door, where I peered through the peephole at my car. And…
It was empty. No demonic creature staring a hole through my soul. I was safe?
After that interaction, I was paranoid constantly. Every time I turned a corner in a grocery store it felt my anxiety spike. Every time I heard the heater turn on in my apartment I nearly brought myself to tears.
It's been a month now since I've seen the creature like I had during the end of January. I'd still been seeing the thing- and it's many variations, just like the ones in the books- out of the corner of my eye every time the moon was out.
Today I looked at the notebooks and called a friend of mine, getting ready to confess my fears and the things I was seeing. I told him everything, and he laughed and told me to go see a therapist. I laughed with him, acting as though everything was fine. In reality, I was pissed at him. If he won't believe me, nobody will.
So now I bring this here. I still see it. I'm starting to think the books are the cause of this. I wonder if burning them will fix this… this curse.
I need advice. I don't know if these things can be killed, or what the limit of their power is. I just know they scare the shit out of me. Please, please help me wherever you can.
#entertainment
source
I'm bringing this here because I need people to believe me. No matter what I say to friends and family, they laugh it off and suggest me a therapist, or call me Schizophrenic.
This all started two months ago in early December, when I got a phone call from my best friend's mother. This wasn't out of the ordinary, as I was basically part of the family. Me and my best friend, Colin, used to be inseparable.
We exchanged small talk for a while, but her tone darkened when she told me why she called this time. Rather than the usual where she just checks in to see if I'm out of food or not, she said she had called to tell me that Colin had been found dead the night before.
The news came as a shock to me, of course. I had seen him just four days before she called, and he'd been in perfect health and super happy. Though, he did seem just a bit more paranoid than usual. It made me think that maybe there might have been foul play…
However, she then let me know that it was an apparent suicide. He was found in his room lying dead in a blood soaked bed, wrists and stomach cut up. The knife that had done the damage was found laying on the ground near the foot of the bed.
I thanked her for telling me what had happened to Colin, and offered her any sort of aid I could give her, whether that be financial, emotional, or whatever else I may need to provide.
I won't lie, I had teared up and I talked mostly through sobs. She was talking the same, and I could hear her husband attempting to comfort her through the phone. Then she let me know that Colin had left something to me.
She said it was a collection of about five different notebooks that Colin had said should not be looked through by anyone but me. I asked her if she knew why Colin wanted me to be the one he trusted with the notebooks, but she said she had no idea.
We exchanged a few memories of Colin through more tears, but eventually she wished me a good one and hung up.
Fast forward two weeks, where Christmas is less than a week away, and I have the notebooks laid out across my bed. In the two weeks since she'd called me, we'd held a small funeral for Colin and had him cremated. His parents kept the ashes, I believe. She had passed the notebooks unto me just before she pulled out of the parking lot.
It was late at night, probably some time past two in the morning. I grabbed the first notebook and brought it to the desk in the corner of the room. I read by the light of the lamp next to me.
The first page was a small paragraph of messy writing,
“Dear Blue, I hope that you're the one that's reading this. If you have these, I've probably been killed. I discovered some time ago that the things I was seeing weren't just figments of my imagination. They'll be the things that kill me.”
The writing was of course addressed to me. I had recently changed my name to Blue, within the past three months. That meant this note was written somewhat recently.
I flipped to the next page and my jaw dropped. All across the page were drawings of tall, humanoid creatures with weird looking eyes. There was no empty space between the drawings, as he'd filled the space up with words. They were all things you'd expect of one of the insane.
“They're real?” and, “He sees me,” as well as stuff like, “Who else can see them?”
It was unsettling, of course.
I flipped through the rest of the book, finding dozens of different variations of the creature. Some where it was shorter but larger, some where it was unreasonably tall and gaunt, where the arms looked like they were missing flesh, just skin stretched over bones.
I reached the end of the first notebook, and felt my hands shake. I pushed the notebook aside and reached for the next one. I flipped through this one- and the rest- and found the same thing in each.
That is, except for the final page on the last book. I knew this was the last book because they were numbered in permanent marker across the front, with his name in pen beneath the large numbers. This one was marked with the number 5.
At the end was another paragraph written just like the first one. This one looked like it was written hurriedly, and I noticed a few dots where the lined paper seemed to have had the blue lines curl, as if something had dripped onto the page.
It wrote,
“Blue, this is the last you'll ever hear from me. I saw it again. I hear it now. It won't leave a trace. It's smarter than we think it is. It has a knife.”
The rest of the note was unintelligible. I closed the notebook, and only then noticed I had been holding my breath. My heart was beating fast in my chest. I never thought some drawings and words could scare me this much.
I pondered calling Colin's mother, but thought better of it as it was sometime past three now. I decided to call it a night as well.
As I turned off the lamp and piled the notebooks on the corner of the desk, I swore I could see something moving out the window from the corner of my eye.
But every time I glanced back out the window, there was nothing there. I thought that maybe my lack of sleep was getting to me.
I laid in bed and tried to sleep. It took me around an hour to fall asleep. I was tossing and turning the whole night, thinking about Colin and his weird notebooks.
Now we skip ahead to late January. I had been seeing things out of the corner of my eye for the last month, and I felt as if I was starting to lose my mind. I had begun going to therapy, but immediately stopped going when they suggested me pills. In the beginning I would have jumped at the opportunity, but after some time I started to believe it was real.
Then, that one night in January, this all turned from ten to one hundred real quick.
I had just parked my car in my parking spot in front of my apartment, and unloaded some of the groceries I had just bought. I made a few trips, and as I brought the last few bags inside, I walked back outside to lock the car.
The moment I opened the door, I froze where I was. Right there, sitting in the passenger seat of my car, was a familiar creature.
A tall, seemingly fleshless creature with skin as white as the moon sat staring down at its legs. Its knees were at its chest, and its feet were down off the seat. It must have been scarily tall.
My breath caught in my throat and I felt my vision go blurry. I blinked a few times, and finally felt myself regain control of my body. I took a step back, slowly backing into my apartment.
I reached for the door behind me, and moved to shut it. The moment I touched the door, the creature's head shot up, and it was staring me dead in the eyes with eyes that seemed to take the light away. They were almost like holes in its face that led into the void. As it saw the fear on my face, its lips slowly curled upwards into an unnatural and terrifying smile.
I leapt back and slammed the door, then locked it and quickly rushed to find a chair to lodge beneath the doorknob and the floor as an added measure of security.
I ran to my room, and collapsed after shutting the door and closing the blinds. I broke into sobs immediately, realising that if this was the thing that killed Colin, I was surely next. I was going to die.
I tried to get it together, to be able to clear my head enough to know I'd make smarter decisions I'd I needed it. I began muttering to myself out loud, “I'm not gonna die. I won't die. I won't let myself fucking die. I can't…”
I trailed off, and began breathing slower. I felt myself calm down, and eventually I was able to relax my tensed muscles.
I stood up after a moment of breathing, and walked back out to the front door, where I peered through the peephole at my car. And…
It was empty. No demonic creature staring a hole through my soul. I was safe?
After that interaction, I was paranoid constantly. Every time I turned a corner in a grocery store it felt my anxiety spike. Every time I heard the heater turn on in my apartment I nearly brought myself to tears.
It's been a month now since I've seen the creature like I had during the end of January. I'd still been seeing the thing- and it's many variations, just like the ones in the books- out of the corner of my eye every time the moon was out.
Today I looked at the notebooks and called a friend of mine, getting ready to confess my fears and the things I was seeing. I told him everything, and he laughed and told me to go see a therapist. I laughed with him, acting as though everything was fine. In reality, I was pissed at him. If he won't believe me, nobody will.
So now I bring this here. I still see it. I'm starting to think the books are the cause of this. I wonder if burning them will fix this… this curse.
I need advice. I don't know if these things can be killed, or what the limit of their power is. I just know they scare the shit out of me. Please, please help me wherever you can.
#entertainment
source
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