Bodies of water gave me recurring nightmares as a child. In said nightmare I’d be looking out over a wooden dock with a fire on either side, trapping me. My only way to not be burned alive was to jump off this dock into the cold and deep water below. Over the railing I went and once I was submerged I woke up. Deep down I knew I couldn’t swim. Any attempt by my parents to take me to the public pool or to get swim lessons was met with emotional and even physical protest.
My high school required us to know how to swim in order to graduate. After 8th grade the conversation that I had with my parents about swimming changed. We agreed that I would learn to swim if I stayed in the shallow end. A senior from the swim team was hired to train me. Everyone appeared to be on the same page when I arrived at the pool. My swim “coach” managed to teach me to float rather quickly. Soon he wanted to move deeper. This left me somewhat confused, but he was already starting to get out of the pool and begin walking to the other side..
That summer was hot, but this was one of the hottest days. The pool was packed, especially the deep end. Regardless, I didn’t stay where I could stand and kicked over to the other side of the pool. Suddenly when it got somewhat deep I couldn’t see my coach.
Panic began to set in, I was dipping below the surface, and suddenly I began to sink. All I could think to do was thrash around. This led me to be kicked in the head. Water was inhaled into my lungs, and suddenly everything went black.
Restful was all I felt at first. Then I saw it. Deep bloodshot eyes stared into me. He had a pale white face that stretched low. With an uncomfortable frown. Then suddenly I saw the orange hue in the sky. I felt hot. I could hear the screaming. A deep sensation of dread washed over me. Suddenly I woke up.
While vomiting water I opened my eyes to see a lifeguard over me. I was lying on the concrete. My mother was hysterical and I had a crowd surrounding me. Multiple ambulances were called and I went to the hospital in one of them. The whole time I couldn’t stop seeing that face in my head.
Starting school in the fall that year was difficult. I began taking medications and it changed me. Video games were how I decompressed. I played a popular multiplayer game all the time .The game had extensive character customizability. It also had private and public lobbies. There was one particular lobby where I became a regular and got a “job.” I was excited about this, but that meant I had to log in during certain hours. I was essentially a moderator who pretended in game to be a store manager.
On Saturdays I played the game in my parents’ living room while everyone was asleep. The lobby I played in was desirable to be in. This meant newer players would pop into the lobby during these hours, as paid-members with accelerated queue weren’t online as much.
One player joined who was named “Mr. Smiles,” and had a completely gray character model. I figured he was a troll. They didn’t have a mic, but I couldn’t ban them because they weren’t really doing anything wrong.
They’d log on just after I joined and would stay on until I left. This would occur every Saturday. The other mods and I didn’t particularly like him, but we agreed to not do anything about it. At some point people started taking screenshots and sharing it on the games forum. Mr. Smiles began to become somewhat of an urban legend. Yet still they’d manage to log on almost exactly when I did.
Eventually I got frustrated and late one night I whispered to him in the game’s chat. “What’s your deal?” I wrote. They moved from their usual spot, to where they were directly in front of me. The model’s featureless head blocked my vision.
After some pause they whispered back in chat, “I’m here because you are.”
I felt uncomfortable, but then I considered that if he said something off the wall I’d have reason to ban him.
I responded, “Do you know me in real life?”
“I know about the man who burns. Mr. Frown would like to see you,” they replied.
A friend request from Mr. Smiles was sent. It was from there I was given two paths. I could follow him to a different lobby, or ban him and try to avoid the situation. He left and invited me to the new lobby. After about a minute of deliberation I joined him.
The wait time to join the private lobby was longer than I expected, but after a minute or two I spawned in a dark cave that looked unlike any other custom lobby in the game. There was what sounded like an organ playing. and it freaked me out to the point that I froze somewhat. Eventually Mr. Smiles came from a dark doorway then quickly darted back into the room he came from.
Next to the door there was a sign that read “Mr. Frown’s Hall,” and I entered. On the other side was Mr. Smiles and another user named “Mr. Frown,” who had a completely dark character.
“Is this him?” Mr. Frown typed into the chat.
“I believe so sir,” Mr. Smiles Responded..
Still feeling uncomfortable, I wrote, “What is this about?”
“We’ve heard you’ve seen. The man with a long frown. The pale skin. The one who is burning.” They both wrote at the same time.
This caused a similar feeling of dread to begin. I sat frozen. To me this was more than an elaborate troll. “What are you talking about?” I questioned. Mr. Frown sent me a private message, which was a download of an executable file titled “HeBurns.exe.” For some reason I saved the link to the download but I then decided to take an extended break from the game and never opened the file.
Soon I’d be taking school seriously and I started to socialize again. I grew some inches and it did great things to my confidence. By my fifteenth birthday I was regularly going to parties, hanging out with friends, and generally having a good time. Yet still that file creeped in the back of my mind, taunting me almost.
There was one night I was spending the night at a friend’s house. Said friend and I got talking. I wasn’t the only one there, but we seemed to be the only two awake. We got deep in conversation and he asked about the “swimming pool incident,” as he put it. He wanted specifically what I recalled when I was out. I didn’t tell about the face, just the feeling of relief I got. This seemed to put him at ease. My friend went to sleep after that night comfortably, but it reawakened my curiosity of the file that was sent to me.
When my parents were asleep I downloaded and opened the file “HeBurns.exe.” Nothing happened at first once I finished the install. Then suddenly the monitor went black. At first I couldn’t see anything, but suddenly the red teary eyes began to show, then slowly the rest of the face, the pale white skin was now beginning to melt and frown that dropped even lower.
My headphones began to blast loud demented screams. As I began to cry out in fear the computer blue screened. I subsequently woke up my parents, who viewed the situation in a harsh manner. They banned me from using the computer for a few months. It would be around this time I began going to therapy more often. I eventually admitted to my therapist about the face. She was convinced it was trauma related, and I was somewhat delusional.
This would lead to me being prescribed another type of medication, to deal with my “delusions.” I had disagreements with the medication as it made me feel disconnected. This would lead to skip doses.
When my parents let me use the computer, I again fell back into video games. One game in particular was a first person shooter that I started to become good at. Through that game I would meet other competitive players. Some of the players I played with went on to play the game at a professional level. They would often have me play scrimmages with them. Eventually they asked to sign me, if they were to need an extra man for some reason.
As fate would have it they needed me to play one night. The game was broadcasted to a live audience and I gave an interview to a reporter afterwards. The article didn’t reveal exactly who I was, but somehow my old swim “coach” tracked me down from this. He explained that he felt responsible for the events that occurred to me, but he never apologized. He couldn’t even understand.
During one session when I was playing on a public server. A user named “Mr. Smiles” joined. When I noticed this I began to consider immediately quitting before he asked the question, “what is your name?” For some reason I responded with the name of my old swim coach, then quit.
Over the next few weeks I’d have periods of time where I couldn’t tell if my medications were making me see things. I’d see shadow figures all over the place while being tired. Then I saw the face one day in the hallway. Those eyes now bloody, with the skin melting off the face, the frown almost non existent, just burned dripping skin. He ducked behind the window from the outside. It was so vivid I couldn’t distinguish it from reality.
My medications would finally be changed again, and these interactions began to happen less often. Not long after this I’d find out that my old swim coach had gone missing. Apparently his disappearance was linked to a “cult” of some kind. When I go to sleep at night I can’t stop thinking about these events, the face, and whether I’ll be next to go after my swim coach.