I am a big baseball fan, and I love collecting baseball cards. One day, I stumbled upon a garage sale and found a baseball card for a player named “Jack Shadow,” who supposedly played for a team that didn’t exist. There was something eerie about the player on the card - his uniform was all black, and he had a menacing look in his eyes.
I asked the old man running the garage sale about the card, but he didn’t know anything about it. I bought it and took it home, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something wrong with it. I decided to do some research on the player, but I couldn’t find anything about him. No records, no stats, nothing.
That night, I had a dream that I was at a baseball game and Jack Shadow was playing. The stadium was dark and shadowy, and the only sound was the crack of the bat and the cheers of the crowd. But as the game went on, I realized that something was wrong. The players on the other team were disappearing one by one, and Jack Shadow seemed to be getting stronger with each one that vanished.
I woke up in a cold sweat, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the baseball card. I tried to throw it away, but it kept reappearing in my room. I tried to give it to my friends, but they didn’t want it. They said there was something creepy about it.
I became obsessed with the card, and I started having more nightmares. In one, I was being chased by Jack Shadow through a dark and endless hallway. In another, I was trapped in a stadium with no way out, and Jack Shadow was closing in on me.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I took the card and burned it, watching as the flames consumed the black uniform and the menacing eyes. But even as the card turned to ash, I could still feel the presence of Jack Shadow.
That night, I had my last nightmare. I was in a dark and empty stadium, and I could hear the sound of a bat hitting a ball in the distance. I followed the sound until I came to the pitcher’s mound, and there was Jack Shadow, grinning at me with his black eyes.
I woke up screaming, and I knew that I had to get rid of the card for good. I took the ashes and buried them deep in the ground, hoping that they would never be found again.
Years went by, and I grew up and forgot about the baseball card. But one day, I was walking past the old garage sale where I had found it, and I saw a young boy holding a black baseball card. The boy looked up at me, and I could see the fear in his eyes.
I knew then that the card had never really been destroyed, and that it would continue to haunt anyone who dared to possess it.