Ever since I was little, I’ve known things were never the way people told me they were, and these notes from my grandpa confirm that theory.
I went to my grandfather’s funeral and after people said their passages and everything, the names for the will were stated and, dad, mom, uncle, aunt, and I walked to the living room of the huge manor. The priest reads the will and the last sentence hit me as strange, stranger than the mysterious way that he died, they said he was found mauled by a cayote on his bed. They say cayote because fur of one was found in the house, but the cops never said how it got in.
“This last sentence is very important,” the priest says, “‘once you receive your item(s), leave the area and don’t return.’ I will now begin reading the will. ‘To Dad, I leave my savings account of $500,000.’” Dad leaves.
“‘To Mom, I leave my car and Manor’”
Mom leaves.
“‘To Uncle, I leave Rebecca, Jaimes, and Molly, my beautiful dogs.’”
Uncle leaves
“‘To Aunt, I leave my jewels.’”
Now for me. I wonder what grandpa left me, because the only thing I can think of is his candy, or maybe toys.
The Priest looks at me, and says,
“To Jensen, I leave my writings, handle and keep with care. There is more to be seen and you and I both know that.’”
The priest hands me a shoe box. inside are some notes that are old and warn, they look as if they were written with extreme haste. Old curvy cursive-calligraphy.
I walk out of the room and get in my mom’s ‘05 4x4 ram pickup.
“What did you get?” mom asks
“I’m not allowed to tell you” I reply, that’s not true but I have this feeling that I shouldn’t tell them. Unsatisfied, mom does her grinch grouch and looks ahead. She starts the truck, and we drive back to her house. My parents divorced 7 years ago, and my dad lives in Kentucy with my aunt and uncle.
The drive back to the house from the manor is about an hour, on the way back my mom calls her brother, and they are talking about moving our stuff into the manor. I play my music and fall asleep looking out the window.
(time passes)
I wake up and its storming, we are in the truck still and the clock says its 20:34(8:34pm), the truck is loaded with stuff, blankets, pillows, some of my stuff like collectables. I ask my mom how long I was out, and why she didn’t wake me up.
“I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn’t. So, me and my brother got packed up and we started the trip to the manor. Your grip on that shoe box was so tight I couldn’t get it from you.”
I look down to see the shoe box still in my grip.
The rest of the ride there was boring, we unpacked the few things we had, I unlocked the manor and walked inside, staring at all the big fancy furnishings. My mom walks up next to me and says to me,
“Big, isn’t it?
“Yeah, it is.”
“Go upstairs and pick any room.”
“Ok.”
I was too tired that night to ask any questions. I walked up the stairs and opened the last door at the end of the hall into a room. It had a king size bed, a walk-in closet next to a bathroom, on the direct opposite side of the bed was a trifold closed door, like the ones in a kid’s room. next to the bed was a desk with a pc and monitor. I sit down at the desk and open the shoe box. I pull out and unroll one of the notes. it was 2 pages long, it read
“If you were going to do something let’s, say, hide. What would you do? go under your bed and cry? Hide in the closet and hope the intruder passes and forgets you are there? What about the monster under your bed? Curl up under covers and weep? Turn on your lights and hope it gets bored and moves on? If its human, it’ll wait, light won’t scare it.”
“This note is weird, it’s more like a story.” I think to myself, but I’m still intrigued to read.
“Now what about your closet.”
there are some blood stains splattered on the page right here.
“You, in a pitch-black room, relaxed when you are about to fall asleep, when a long black, blood-stained finger with razor sharp nails, one at a time, lays finger after finger on the bottom of the closet door, then the next hand crosses over to the other side of the door-“
I hear a creak and jolt to look at the closet, the door moves slightly. no no no no, this is NOT the room. just a coincidence, it’s a story, right? I continue reading.
“-and begins to slide it open.”
more blood stains, and some small cuts on the page
“5 small dark eyes with a faint glow of a reddish-brown hue blink into the crack in the opening, its face peaks out and the light hits it just right that the face is shown, red, blood shot sunken eyes placed in its cracked skull where skin hangs off. Rows of shark teeth stained in old and fresh blood. Blood drips as it slowly crawls out of the closet”
big blood splotch with text covered.
“-ood on its face of an elk with broken antlers. Long spindle legs and arms.”
I look at the closet door.
“Its head rotates on its neck.
If you had to hide from THAT monster, what would you do.”
then his signature. these seem to just be horror stories. I decide I’m going to sleep and the moment my head hits the pillow i fall asleep.
DING. DING. DING.
my phones notifications go off. the time is 03:12(3:12am) i turn it on and see 3 new messages.
“Hello Jensen”
“don’t read those notes”
“you’ll awaken them…”
its from an unknown number. A loud flash of thunder and lightning and light peels through the curtains. 2 boney hands appear on the closet door and 5 eyes blink. I’m frozen lying in my bed. another flash and its gone. its just my imagination right? Another flash and somethings standing in the corner, 10ft tall, elks head, 5 eyes. another flash its gone.
DING
“you can only end what you started”
I jolt up out of bed and check the time. The time reads, 12:17(12:17pm). Nothing seems to be out of place. I slowly start to remember the events of last night. The figure, the notes, the texts-.
I hastily grab my phone to check for the messages. The messages are still there. So, what happened the previous night DID indeed happen? I ponder on that thought for a while. I look left and spot the shoe box on the desk. I toss off the covers and hastily pull open the lid of the shoe box. I grab the top pages. They are blank? How did that happen? I grab my phone off the bed and text the unknown number.
“Who are you?”
I put my phone down, not expecting this person to text me back. Since after all, they did text me first. I walk back over to the desk, and I grab the next two pages out of the shoebox. They are still the same as how I left them.
I start to get the feeling that something is watching me. I quickly whip around to see the closet. I slowly walk towards it and open the door. Nothing is inside. it’s completely empty. I ignore the events of the previous night and continue on with my day. Eating, washing up, doing chores. As I was doing those things some strange things happened. Seeing shadows, hearing whispers, things moving. Nothing I’m not used to.
Once the time that I get back to my phone arises, I have one new message from the strange number.
“you know me.”
I don’t know any people. I have no friends, most of my family is dead. I purposefully changed my number so I could leave my past behind. I decide to read another page from the notes, ignoring the warnings, and forgetting about what happened the previous night.
I walk over to the shoebox and grab the next roll. This roll is two pages long as well, it reads:
“Have you ever thought about what lies under your bed? Some people believe in the, Boogie Man. Some people think that he’s under your bed but that’s a highly unlikely chance because there is only one of them. There are billions of children that he could scare. So why would he choose you?
So if he would not bother you, what else could want you? A monster, a ghost? Who knows. It may be a monster, they are real after all…
What are the chances of it being a human down there? You know, under the bed? You are more likely to be killed the day it crawls under the bed. Maybe they might play with you a little. Grab at the toes or ankles. Tug your sheets. Then kill you.”
I did in fact have fears that something was under the bed when I was a young boy. I get a weird feeling and take a peek under my bed. A small claw-like hand flashes out of the gloom coming from the window and back under the bed. I ignore it as my imagination and I go back to reading.
“They might pop out to eat your birthday cake at night. Maybe if they are nice clean your room and do the laundry. But monsters, ghosts, people don’t only live under children’s beds. they live under every. Single. Persons. Bed.
The moment you are born they go under the thing you sleep in the first time. It doesn’t matter. bed, couch, crib. It doesn’t matter. The moment you sleep for the first night, they crawl under. And at that moment you can’t get rid of them.
They follow you. Even to your death bed. The moment you die, they steal your soul and you become one of them.
The only way to stop the cycle is to stop sleeping and stay awake. Never let your kid sleep. only then will the cycle end. I hope you remember this. Its too late for me-“
big blood stain.
“-eath bed as im writing this. Stay safe.
DONT SLEEP “
This one as well just seems like a horror story. I had the same feeling I had when I read the last one. I close the box and lay down to sleep. It’s around 19:00(7pm)
I wake up and the moon light shines through the window. I feel something applying pressure to my underside of the bed. I look to my left and see a small hand whip back under. I jolt up and look underneath the bed and see yellow eyes blink. I shine my phone under the bed and nothing is there. I shrug it off and go back to sleep. Just as I was falling asleep my phone goes off.
DING
“hello jensen”
DING
“you have awakened another one”
DING
“remember… You can only end what you started”
That line still echos in my head.
“you can only end what you started”
I look at the closet remembering the events of the previous night. Its standing there again. with a new thing. Its a hunched back goblin-y figure, about 3 feet tall with long arms and legs. short stubby horns and cat shaped eyes colored blue.
I stand up, confronting them.
“Help us, Jensen.”
I blink and a new figure is there.
“ahhhh, dear ol’choit, You have returned, thou bears a new name, a new life. You must help us.”
“who- who are you? why are you here? what happened to the notes?”
“shush dear ol’choit. You are to learn in times come. All that matters is your answer. Will you, ol’choit, help us?”
“I- I-guess.”
A blue mist starts to surround me, I feel something crawling up my left arm. I start to see visions of someones past. Was this me? Was this my past?
“stay calm ol’choit, let it come to you. Let it happen”
DING
“dont trust them jensen.”
It was a regular morning at cranberry ridge. I was taking a shower in the dark like I usually do. I drew back the curtain, finished with my shower. I dry off and through the thin, old strands of my towel I see a bright vibrant but shadow-like fog figure. I pull down the towel and there is nothing. This happens over a few days.
About 2 weeks later I am attempting an astral project and I will do it for the first time. I’m confused when I realize I’ve done it. the articles, books, websites, all say that it’s IMPOSSIBLE to do it the first try. I put that aside and I think of where I wanna go and I go to an old apple orchard.
I blink once and I’m at the entrance. And at the entrance is also, That figure I saw two weeks ago. My mind is racing. Who is this, or what is this figure. I blink again, still there. I can’t move or look around. dumbfounded I try to speak, Nothing but a mist comes out. The figure Speaks in a low raspy noise. It says,
“I am what you would call, hmmm an illusion, though you might think of me as such but I am not of that sort. I am whom you may call,The Blue Man.”
I try to say something but I am not able to. As if The Blue Man is knowing my intentions he moves over to me, walking and whatever he steps on becomes a dull gray fog,
“Shush dear Ol Choit, Mortal in my tongue. I am from the far reaches of time and space. a realm not known to Ol’choit. But thou seems to be curious, you see, I am one of the very few of us. of the Soichik (Zoo-shik) Us, The Blue Ones. I am able to pluck a piece of your Consciousness and well, do this… watch closely Ol’choit.”
He places a piece of fog on my wrist and a sharp pain pierces through my arm. A bloody scene takes over everything as The Blue Man well, Blood image version walks through a vast field of stars looking around with his piercing purple eyes, if there were any. but on the real version there are none. Then Bloody Man reaches far out and grabs a light he touches part of it and it becomes fog, it then floats away, The image becomes a forest, a forest with animals and tall oak trees and a river. The fog falls down and the fog becomes leaves.. The leaves fall and turn into fish. The fish fall into the river and they travel down to a lake, they then become water and the water flows into the ocean then over an endless water fall into the darkness. Then I fall into the darkness and my mind is racing, I try to say, “HELP!! WHAT’S HAPPENING!! PLEASE!!” but mist forms, I panic, heart pounding against my rib cage. I then fall into a navy blue stream which carries me through a tunnel of stars. but it’s endless, I recognize this place. It’s where the blue man is.
The Blue Man Appears again and he speaks.
“Now, Ol’choit, you see.”
The Blue bloody man appears and plucks the same star, and everything happens again.
The Blue Man Speaks again.
“The Ol’choit, consciousness is like a river and leaves and fish and water, it all replenishes itself. We just take a piece and absorb it and drop part of its shell. There are ones who dont give back. only they take it all. but they only come when you call them, their name is Wey’on chal.
I begin to try to say it, The Blue Man tells me to not think it but he then says.
“It’s too late they’re here.”
The blue man appears over me and leans over. reaches for my wrist but the moment he touches it the stars disappear, I jolted up and spun around. this creature with large, blue eyes, pink head, long wavy arms and stubbed feet, a black and brown torso with dark black legs. it opens its mouth. I panic, heart racing trying to move. but i turn into a mist and get sucked down this mouth. The Blue Man tries to stop it but it’s too late. I concentrate on moving my arms and they grip to the things teath. I force myself to stay solid and I crawl out of its mouth. The Blue Man Appears at the opening, he says.
“The Ol’choit who summons must be consumed.”
After the blue man spoke those words to me, I could hear them echoing down the abyss of this creature’s black void of a body, they stuck in my head, repeating themselves. As I float aimlessly, I regret some of my decisions. I start to fade into the darkness. Becoming another victim of this grief, the grief of the past people who were told the truth, the truth of the world, of the Blue Man.
The Blue Man is not one, but it’s who The Blue Man are. The Blue Man.
I fade into darkness, the grief of people who were told, pull me into the abyss. I wonder how this all happened. I wonder if I will ever return.
Then I remember.
I wake up on my bed, lying there. But I feel different. I look at my arm and see grey marks going up my arm.
I look into the mirror and see the marks go up my neck, and into my eyes, my eyes glow a dark hue of yellow.
I stare into my own eyes and see images of the blood void, I start to see The Blue Man gathered around in a ring, but all The Blue Man is featureless.
Like the way I saw they.
The Blue Man looks like a scribbled stick figure drawn in blue ink. Fuzzy and the lines moving like an animation that is just the same figure drawn over and over.
I just stand there, staring into my own eyes. Seeing the same figure looking back at me. Grey, hair falling out in my fingers, eyes fading into white, skin darkening, body becoming shriveled, losing life, becoming stone, becoming nothing.
The soul seemingly is ripped from my body. I watch as I fly into the body of an unborn baby. But my vision is still looking at my body;
As Ol’Choit fades into stone. He sees a blue mist float by his face…
The Blue Man Stands in the corner.
The Blue Man Watches.
The Blue Man Sees
The Blue Man
The Blue
The
.
. . .
ThE bLuE mAn Is HeRe…
LoOk BeHinD yOu…
I blink and im back in the chair of the classroom.