So I’m an author and I’ve been struggling to find any sort of inspiration for a book. I went on writers’ retreats, read tons of books, scrolled through endless reddit threads for anything that would spark an idea but no matter what I do, nothing seems interesting enough to write about. On top of this horrible writers block, my grandmother passed away, leaving her old house back in Virginia to me. It’s a miracle if you ask me, getting the house I mean, not her dying, I’m not heartless. I knew that the change of scenery was going to help, but boy was this going to be the worst possible idea I had.
A few weeks after the funeral, we met up with some lawyers who arranged the paperwork and paid the fees for the house, and I finally I could move in. My parents came up with me to help with the unpacking. There weren’t many renovations to do for the house, just some peeling wallpapers and leaky pipes. We got new bedding, new curtains, cleared away all the cobwebs and started to put in my things after putting my grandma’s things in the attic. After a week of making the house liveable my parents left. If I’m being honest, I was glad they came up with me, the house always gave me the heebie geebies. Like I loved my grandma, but the house was its own thing. But it felt good having my own house. The next thing on my list was finding a job, cause the whole author thing was not bringing in any money.
The incident happened on a random Saturday a few months after moving in. I hadn’t gone into work so I could write. It was still early morning when I heard thunder in the distance and by lunch time a storm was hitting the town. I could hear the trees beating against the window, garbage bins rolled in the streets, and wind chimes hit each other with great force that I thought they would break. I was staring out of the window looking at the street when the room lit up in a flash and the lights went out, half-heartedly I got up from the sofa and went down to the basement to switch on the circuit breaker back on. The rain hit the glass panes with such force, disguising the knocking on the front door for a second, but they could be heard during the pauses of the thunder. Slowly I made my way towards the door, but by the time I arrived at the front door the visitors were getting impatient. My heart broke as soon as I opened the door.
In front of me stood two children, who couldn’t have been older than nine years old, barely wearing any clothing that would keep them warm during this storm. It was the girl that spoke first, asking me to use my phone to call their mum to tell her that they would be home soon. I had so many questions, why would these little children be out alone in a storm with no phone? What mother would allow her children to leave the house without proper clothing? Not once did they look at me throughout the whole encounter but never the less, I moved aside to let them pass through. I made my way towards the living room with the children behind me, once we arrived I asked them for their mothers phone number and started to dial the number they gave me, but no one was answer. I asked the girl to tell me the number again in case I misunderstood her, but the number was the same as before, so, I suggested that they wait out the storm here, then once the storm is over they can leave. There was no reply, but I took it as a yes. The children needed a clean clothes fearing that they would catch a cold if they stayed in their wet clothing. I told them to follow me as I went upstairs towards the bathroom to get them some clean towels. After getting the largest towels I had available, I grabbed two sets of pyjamas and showed the children my room and the guest bedroom, so they had some privacy as the changed. The children’s eyes still never left the floor not even to take the clothes from my hands.
Whilst they changed I went to the kitchen to prepare some hot chocolate and some biscuits I found in the cupboard. After a few minutes they came down to the kitchen and sat on the table as I placed the steaming mugs in front of them. While the children were drinking I went back to the living room to try their mother again. This time I got an answer, it was an older gentleman, I told him that he didn’t need to worry about his children since they were safe in my kitchen drinking, I informed him that I wouldn’t allow them to leave until the storm, but he seemed confused at the mention of children, telling me that his children haven’t been nine for ages and his grandchildren didn’t even live in my area. I told him that I had a wrong number and apologized before ending the call. I walked back to the kitchen to ask the children to write the number down this time, so I don’t keep dialling wrong numbers
I walked into an empty kitchen, the children no where to be seen. I called out for them and search the lower level for any sign of them, I searched all the cupboards and closets thinking they were pranking me but they I couldn’t find them. Whilst I was in the living room searching I heard a loud crash coming from the kitchen, annoyed I walked towards the kitchen and was greeted with all the contents of my cupboards on the floor. At the same time I could hear laughter and footsteps running up the stairs. I ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs leaving the mess for me to clean up after I found the children.
To give you a small layout of the second story of the house. The whole level is connected via a long corridor with rooms on either side of it, there was a bedroom, bathroom, and a storage room with the entrance to the attic. As I was walking past the storage room I noticed that the door was open and noticed that even the attic hatch was open when I entered the room. I carefully climbed up the ladder and switched on the light bulb, even though it barely gave out any light.
Apart from old clothes and books I got from my parents’ house, and old items my grandma would store, the attic was empty. The sound of thunder filled the silence of the house as the storm started to grow stronger than before. A flash of lightning lit of the room and revealed the shadows of the children climbing down the ladder. I followed them down the hatch and was guided towards the entrance of the house by their laughter. I found them waiting for me. They were looking up at me with a horrific grin on their face. A chill ran down my spine as I finally could look at their faces for the first time.
Their eyes were black. I’m not talking about their iris being black or metaphorically looking black but their whole eye was black; it was as if I was looking at an empty eye socket. By looking at their whole face it looked like they completely transformed from those small weak children to these horrifying creatures. Their skin looked almost translucent and was decorated with purple veins that reminded me of the lightning from outside, coming from their eyes. Their bodies looked tiny compared to their already large clothing. Their eyes never left my face following my every move as I slowly backed away towards the kitchen where I could make my escape through the back door. I never broke eye contact in fear of them disappearing but once I arrived in the kitchen, they disappeared.
That night I couldn’t sleep, their eyes remained ingrained into my memory. They were there every time I closed my eyes, or in the shadows near the storage room. And now I’m trying to figure out what those things were, I came across this thread so maybe someone had a similar experience to me.
Update!!
I came across some stories similar to mine and to my understanding they’re called black-eyed children and are creatures that shouldn’t be messed with. Everyone was saying that you shouldn’t do what they ask or let them into your house cause it will lead you to be curse you and haunted by these children until you die. I’m not one that believes in curses or this spiritual things but now as I write this update hiding in my wardrobe I can’t help but feel stupid for not believe in what people were telling me and didn’t try and get help. I don’t know what to do, I can’t call the police because who would believe me when I’ll tell them that I’m cursed by some little children.
Five weeks have passed since the events of that day, I had slowly started to forget what had happened and I was back to my normal routine, going to work, writing and I even made friends with my neighbours, and would occasionally go for dinner to their house. They’re a sweet old couple who make a mean chicken pot pie. Anyways one night I heard a knock coming from upstairs whilst I was making dinner, dismissing it as just branches banging against the house from the wind, it is winter after all. I continued to make dinner the knock continued, but I ignored it again. The more times I ignored the knock the more persistent they kept becoming. Eventually I started to realise that maybe the knocking was not the wind, so I tried to hunt down where the sound was coming from. As I went up the stairs I started noticing that the knocks were forming a familiar tune.
I followed the sound into my bedroom and entered the room, switched on the lights. ‘Did you miss us?’ was written in a black substance on the mirror. The light bulb exploded, and I was left in a dark room, the door behind me slammed shut and the knocking was replaced with the sound of children’s laughter. I could feel the room spin as ‘come play with us’ was being chanted over and over. Their sound was bouncing off the walls from all directions, it made my ears ring and I started to feel light-headed. Something started to trickle down from my nose, the smell of metal filled my nose, making me feel nauseous. The last thing I remember before blacking out was the children looking over my body and telling me to play with them forever.
I was alone when I woke up, but I could still hear the children laughing outside so I locked up my room and pushed my chest of drawers in front of the door and went in the wardrobe where I am hiding right now. The house suddenly feels very quiet, and calm compared to earlier, all I can hear is my heartbeat thumping at my chest and the sound of blood rushing through my ears. There’s the faint sound of something scratching the bedroom door, like some kind of animal is trying to come inside but I’m safe here. I have the chest of drawers they’re very heavy, I could barely move them myself, so its keeping anything from coming inside I have nothing to worry about. I maybe imagining things, but I can hear something moving the drawers aside, I want to look out of the wardrobe but the thought of leaving the only place of refuge I have left in my house is terrifying.
THE DOOR JUST OPENED.
I NEED HELP.
PLEASE.
SOMEONE
SOMEONE HELP ME.