It was unusually dark as I pulled in to my driveway. As I climbed out of my car, it was immediately apparent that something was off. Gone were the chirps of the birds that usually greeted me on my return home. What’s more, the air was completely dead. I’d never felt anything like it. No breeze, no sounds, just complete and total serenity.
I glanced at my watch - 3:30AM. I’d been up for twenty-three fucking hours. Looking back, it was a miracle I managed to get home in one piece. The only thing I could think of doing at that moment was bursting open my front door, jumping on the couch, and drifting off to the sweet lullaby of shitty Hallmark movie reruns.
I did just that. The soft embrace of my couch as I fell onto it was majestic. I grabbed the remote and switched on my box-set. The dim light of the TV screen bathed the room in a cold, pale glow. I flipped through the channels, my finger tapping the remote in rhythm with my thumping headache. Pretty much every channel I flicked past was out of service. It made sense. It was the early hours of the morning, after all.
I persisted. Channel 398, out of service. Flick. Channel 399, out of service. Flick. At that moment, my blood ran as cold as ice. It was subtle at first. I thought it was just a glitch or a trick of the light. But as I looked closer, it became clearer, and I realised that there was a face protruding from my TV screen. The glass was perfectly formed around the face’s features, it was as if somebody had pushed their head into a sheet of spandex. It was completely expressionless, save for a faint, toothless, grin.
I blinked and rubbed my eyes, hoping to god that whatever was in-front of me was the result of some kind of intense sleep deprivation. It remained, staring straight back at me, unmoving, still with that same devilish grin.
I shot up from the couch. My heart was racing as I scrambled to my feet and bolted for the front door, desperate to get away from whatever the hell was in the room with me. But just as I was about to kick my door down, I heard a voice - a faint, almost melodic whisper from the television.
“Stay.”
My heart sank. The voice was gentle, alluring, but it certainly wasn’t human. I was frozen, too petrified to turn around, but unable to twist the doorknob I was grasping so tightly. I felt like crying. Then, the voice repeated itself.
“Stay. Watch.”
Against all of my good judgement, I found myself drawn back into my living room. Upon returning, the face remained, larger, and sticking further out from my television. Its empty eye sockets boring deep into my soul. The grin had grown wider, more malicious. It was a truly horrific sight. I wanted to cry out, to yell at it to go away, to get the fuck out of my house and never come back. Those words never came, though. It was as if my voice box had been taken. All I could do was stand there and watch as it sneered at me.
I stumbled to the couch and grabbed my phone. The time - 3:30AM. I swiped up to unlock but it didn’t work. I shot my gaze back to the TV. Its grin had grown wider, more menacing, and this time it had teeth. They were sharp, mismatched, and crooked, but they were perhaps the only “human” feature it had.
I looked back down at my phone, and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass.
That’s when I realised it took my mouth.
I tried to yell, tried to scream, but only muffled cries permeated the barrier of flesh that stood where my mouth once was. I looked up again. The face was getting closer. I retreated back, tears streaming down my face as I stared at the grotesque visage before me. It spoke again.
“Sit. Listen.”
My body trembled uncontrollably. Against every instinct telling me to get out of there, I was unable to resist its command. As I sat, the voice continued. What it said, I am unable to repeat. It spoke of terrible things. Unspeakable horrors. Pain and suffering beyond my comprehension. Each sentence punctuated by foul, guttural cackles that reverberated through the room. It seemed to speak for an eternity.Then, it started to give me instructions. It told me to write, to tell others of my experience. It wants you to tune in, to listen what it has to say. But I beg you, when you see it emerging from within your television screen, run. Get as far away as you can. For if it has taken my mouth, who knows what it may take next?