Ok, you are going to think I am crazy, but I need to get this off my chest, and I can’t risk getting committed, again. So, I am going to do this anonymously. Seems safer. See, thing is I see faces. Everywhere. In the trees, the clouds, the rocks, even my morning coffee and the grills of the cars on my commute. Eyes, mouths and noses can appear from even the most mundane objects, fading into reality from anywhere, at any time. Sometimes they are large, sometimes small, but they are everywhere I look. Now, I know what you are going to say, I have heard it a thousand times before. Everyone sees them. It’s called pareidolia. It is just an illusion. Our minds are programmed to see faces, even if they aren’t really there. Trust me, I know that, probably better than anyone. I’ve heard it from every doctor, therapist and friend I’ve ever told about this. Thing is, as far as I can tell, when other people see those faces, the eyes don’t follow them across the room, or wink when they see you watching, and the mouths don’t whisper silent secrets to you. Or maybe they do, and everyone just refuses to talk about it. I don’t know. I don’t really ask people about it anymore. Not since my last stay in an institution, anyway. But I am going to assume that isn’t the case, because I doubt that everyone I have ever met is that good of an actor.
Regardless, when I was a teenager, I actually thought it was kind of cool. If no one could see them, then that made it my own little secret, you know? At one point, I even learned to read lips, so I could try and figure out what they were saying. Got pretty good at it, but still couldn’t decipher anything, in the end. As far as I can tell, they don’t speak any language I have ever heard or seen before. And they don’t seem to like when I watch them too closely, either. I can’t explain exactly how I know that, but the dread that creeps up my spine when they turn their eyes to me is always clear enough. Since no one seemed to want me noticing them, human or otherwise, I learned to ignore them, over time. As I got older, I pretended that the twitches and smiles and blinks were just tricks of the light, or my own, flawed vision. I pretended that it was all just the result of my mind’s propensity to see faces in meaningless patterns, like everyone says. And, for a while, that worked. Things were normal, enough. But lately… lately it’s been getting worse.
I don’t really know when it started, it was such a gradual thing. But eventually, I realized that the faces have been getting… clearer, harder to overlook. Now, sometimes, I can see the features so clearly, not just the faint outline of a pair of eyes, or a mouth, but everything. Hair, lips, skin, even eye color. Often only for an instant, only out of the corner of my eye. I’ll catch glimpses of eyes that are red, or amber, surrounded by sclera dark as the night sky, or lips paler than the skin, but just as grey. But it’s the teeth that scare me. Dozens, maybe hundreds of teeth, I can’t be sure. But I am sure that each ends in a point as sharp as a needle. They haunt my dreams and waking moments in equal measure. And they are getting closer. Like peering through a fogged window, objects get sharper as you get nearer to the glass. Still, clear as they were, they were still just images. I tried to push them out of my mind. Then, Thursday night happened.
I was just watching TV, trying to distract myself. I’d spent the day taping over my electrical outlets, and I needed to relax a bit. The evening news showed three skiers trapped up in the mountains, and they had a helicopter in the air covering the rescue. As I watched the footage, the blanket of snow, rocks & trees spread out across the screen and tiny people in bright orange moved across the surface. It took a moment, but suddenly I saw the eyes in the rocks, and the nose in the trees, and the cavernous mouth carved out of a glacial crevasse. The eyes flicked up, following the chopper above, and pebbles skittered down the hill as they moved. The rescue team was skiing along the crevasse, nearing the trapped party, when I saw the mouth open, stretching into a broad, wicked smile. The ice shuddered and shifted, then a ledge of snow broke loose and began hurtling down the hill, a massive tongue of ice and powder. I imagine there were screams as the little orange specs were swept-into the gaping maw, like pieces of cheddar popcorn, but none of that was audible on the live feed. What was visible was the blood on the points of those needle-sharp teeth, before they closed tight in a satisfied smirk. The feed cut.
I think that they are close to touching this plane now, and I don’t know what that means for those of us who are already here, or if there is anything we can do about it. But keep your eyes peeled. You are programmed to see their faces for a reason, even if only the outlines, shapes formed from otherwise prosaic objects. Don’t listen to what others might tell you. They aren’t an illusion, or a trick of the mind. They are real. And they are nearly here.