“Remember, bedtime’s 9 o’clock,” my sister mentioned for the third time, handing me the spare key. “Oh, and no snacks too late in the night, especially sweets because that gives him real bad night-
“I heard you the first hundred times you mentioned it,” I assured.
She took in a quick deep breath and exhaled. “I know, I know,” she said. “I’m just telling you, he can be a handful.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you sure?”
I shrugged. “It’s kinda too late to say ‘no’ now, don’t you think?”
“Uncle Dan!” Theo, my 6-year-old nephew shouted excitedly, “I need to show you the new character I unlocked, he has-”
“Shhh, shhh, use our inside voices, honey,” my sister tapped lightly on his shoulder.
“We’ll have time to play with all the characters and all the other video games you have to show me, bud!” I matched his excitement.
“Yes!” Theo celebrated.
“Okay, you, I should be back in the morning, will you be good to Uncle Dan for me while I’m gone?” she asks Theo, to which the boy frantically nods in response. She looks to me. “Thank you again so much.”
“Yeah, yeah, now hurry on up before your posse leaves without you” - I turn my attention to Theo, placing my hands on his shoulders - “My best bud Theo and I have a repertoire of games to play while the night is still young!”
She then annoyingly ruffles my fluffy hair. “Thanks, little brother!” she cheers, before being on her way. “I owe you dinner.”
“Yeah you do,” I teased her.
“By mom!” Theo calls after.
“Love you!” she shouts back. “Be good!”
“I will!”
The front door shut with a soft click, and the quiet hum of the house settled around us. Theo’s eyes gleamed with a mix of mischief and delight. He tugged at my hand, leading me deeper into the cozy living room, decorated with family photos and the faint scent of vanilla candles.
“We have the whole night, Uncle Dan!” he declared. “Where should we start?”
I chuckled, playfully ruffling his hair. “Well, let’s see what games you have lined up.”
As he excitedly showed me his collection, the setting sun cast long, amber-tinted shadows through the large windows overlooking the forest. The house, a modern architectural wonder, was nestled amidst a dense stretch of woods. My sister had always favored seclusion and nature, a trait she seemingly inherited from our parents. The interior of the home was a contrasting embrace of warmth, adorned with plush furnishings, bright-colored drapes, and polished wooden floors that reflected the ambient lighting.
“Do you want some juice, Uncle Dan?” Theo asked, heading toward the kitchen.
“You can pour juice all by yourself?” I gasped, a light teasing tone in my voice.
“I’m six years old!” Theo retorted.
I chuckled as I looked around, taking in the familiar surroundings. “Sure thing, buddy. I trust you to be careful. Orange, please, if you have it.”
“Coming right up!”
While he busied himself in the kitchen, I wandered over to the bookshelf. Amidst the collection of classic novels and family photo albums, a thin, worn-out children’s book caught my eye. It was out of place amidst the neatly arranged titles. Its faded cover depicted a dark figure with piercing yellow eyes lurking behind a silhouette of trees.
The title read: “The Legend of the Yellow-Eyed Man.”
I picked it up, curious. Skimming through the pages, I found beautiful yet eerie illustrations accompanied by rhyming verses. Hadn’t seen this in my kindergarten library growing up.
“Uncle Dan! Here’s your juice!” Theo returned, holding out a glass.
“Thanks, champ.” I took a sip and gestured to the book. “Where did you get this book from? Your mom bought it for you?”
“Oh, that?” Theo’s brow furrowed. “Mommy brought it a few days ago. She said she got it for free from a bookstore. They had a place in it where anyone can leave books for others. I haven’t read it yet.”
I smirked, “Want me to read it to you? Then you can show me that new character you were talking about?”
Theo hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, but only a little.”
“Deal.” I agreed, settling down on the side of the bed with him nestled by my side.
The opening lines of the book, told in a whimsical rhyme almost like a Dr. Seuss book, intrigued me.
Page 1
The illustration showed a quaint old town under the canopy of a twilight sky, in a nice blend of colored-pencil art and watercolors.
I read the first lines,
“In a town both old and quite profound,
Whispers of a legend, quietly sound.”
Page 2
The outline of a dark forest with glinting yellow eyes peering through the fog drew over the page.
“At the edge where the grand old woods stand tall,
Yellow eyes gleam, making skin crawl.”
Page 3
Pictures of children inside their homes, some looking estranged, others casting forlorn glances out the window graced the page.
“Children lost in deep, silent pleas,
Hope fading like leaves from the trees.”
Page 4
Silhouette of a child, face turned away, with the faintest shadow of the Yellow-Eyed Man behind a curtain.
“When a child’s hope starts to wane,
He listens to their quiet pain.”
I glanced over at Theo to gauge his mood. So far he seemed to be doing fine. I flipped to the next page.
Page 5
The next illustration a kitchen scene in an old house. Children’s toys scattered, dangerously placed knives edge the counter.
“Toys forsaken, night’s chill slips in,
Danger lurks, where light grows thin.”
Page 6
The scene was a dense forest clearing bathed in moonlight, animals peering alertly, a peculiar spider standing out, with the Yellow-Eyed Man’s figure ominously looming.
“In silent woods, where whispers confide,
His legend grows, ever worldwide.”
Even this was starting to give me the chills. For a children’s book, it was quite unsettling; I could only imagine what might be going through Theo’s imaginative mind.
Page 7
A single house was cast in moonlight, covered in a hazy aura, with the barest hint of the Yellow-Eyed Man merging with the shadows.
“As homes slumber, secrets out of sight,
His allure pulls, with ghostly might.”
Page 8
Nex page showed a creaky bedroom door slightly open, a warm inviting glow spilling out, yet beyond it, chilling yellow gleaming eyes.
“Doors ajar, a silent plea’s breath,
His presence, a dance with shadowed death.”
Then we got to page 9.
Page 9
The picture showed a child’s room door slightly ajar, a sliver of golden light peeking through, and two gleaming yellow eyes waiting in the shadows.
“By doors left open, by promises unkept,
Near them he’d linger, as they dreamt.”
The story grew darker and the illustrations more ominous.
Page 10
An unsuspecting child, looking distracted by a toy, while a tall shadow slowly extends a hand towards them.
“Reaching for those lost in play,
Whisking them far, far away.”
Page 11
An empty bed, the sheets all in a mess. A window left open, curtains flowing, and a set of small footprints leading to the dark woods outside.
“In the hush of the night, not a soul would know,
Where the children taken by him would go.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Theo whispers, visibly shaken by the story.
“Alright, no more of that,” I sighed, slightly relieved, as I’d never admit to a child less than half my age that something equally scared the crap out of me as it did them. I gave him a light pat on the head for comfort. To lighten the mood and change the subject, grinning, I said to him, “Wanna show me that new character you were talking about?”
Theo nodded, still visibly shaken by the story, but agreed. “Mm-hmm,” he mustered.
Theo immediately made a beeline for his gaming console. As he set up a two-player game. He eagerly explained the game’s controls to me. The sounds of pixelated adventures and our shared laughter filled the room, pushing away any lingering jitters either of us had from the story. Look, whether it’s a children’s book or not, scary is scary. Ask Neil Gaiman.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
As night deepened outside, casting the forest in a cloak of darkness, the house’s interior glowed with life. The shadows, however, grew longer and more pronounced, embracing the nooks and crannies of the old house.
I walked around and explored the house a bit talking on the phone with a girl in my class, Denise, while Theo ate his spaghetti I heated up for him at the counter perched up on the high stool.
As night deepened outside, casting the forest in a cloak of darkness, the house’s interior glowed with life. The shadows, however, grew longer and more pronounced, embracing the nooks and crannies of the old house.
I walked around and explored the house a bit talking on the phone with a girl in my class, Denise, while Theo ate his spaghetti I heated up for him at the counter perched up on the high stool.
“Yeah, it’s just some old house,” I spoke into the phone, my voice filled with feigned bravado. “It’s got its quirks, like every old place. The inside mixed with the outside kinda reminds of The Shire a bit.”
“Nerd,” she teased.
“You got the reference,” I shot back.
Denise laughed softly on the other end. “Guess I did, huh? Quirks? Like squeaky floorboards and things that go bump in the night?”
“Something like that,” I chuckled, pausing to peek into a dusty mirror. The reflection showed Theo behind me, cheerfully twirling spaghetti onto his fork. “But hey, if anything creepy does happen, I know who to call.”
“Me? Why would you call me?” Denise giggled.
“Because you’re all into that paranormal, wtichy stuff, right?” I teased.
She laughed, then defended, “I dabble in a few quote-on-quote ‘occultish’ things for fun here and there, but nothing too crazy. I will never do an ouija board or anything crazy like that.”
“Oh no, fuck that,” I said.
“Ooh, you said a bad word!” Theo pointed at me in the reflection, and I playfully stuck my tongue out, him mirroring the gesture.
Denise continued. “How ‘bout… if you do call, you have to promise to take me to that haunted house everyone talks about on Halloween.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Ghostbuster,” I flirted.
I could sense her smiling even through the phone as she changed the subject.
“You know Mr. Harrow gave us another pop quiz today?” Denise’s voice had a teasing lilt. “Bet you wish you hadn’t skipped now.”
She knew good and well-
“I have a very valid excuse, okay? Babysitting duties call.” I replied, trying to sound gallant.
Her laugh was light, fluttery. “And here I was, imagining you battling dragons or deciphering runes. But babysitting your nephew? That’s heroic on its own, I guess.”
“Yes. I’m a nerd,” I surrendered.
We continued for a minute, just flirting back and forth here and there, as I walked from one spot of the house to the other, exploring more things and just being downright nosey. I glanced towards the kitchen. Theo had left his empty bowl on the counter, the remains of spaghetti sauce smudged around its edges. Just as our banter reached its peak, my phone beeped, signaling another incoming call. I glanced at the screen. Jane.
“Hey, I need to take this call. It’s my sister.” I paused, waiting for her response.
“Alright, just don’t forget about the haunted house,” she teased, her voice filled with playful warmth.
“Promise,” I assured her, switching over to Jane’s call.
“Hey,” Jane began, “You two doing okay?”
“All’s quiet on the western front,” I joked.
“What’s Theo doin’?” she asked.
“He’s fine, probably back to his game. Just finished his food. What’s up?”
“I forgot to tell you, I might have left a book on the coffee table. It’s old, I picked it up from a bookstore giveaway. Thought Theo might like it. Just… maybe preview it before reading it to him?”
As I turned my gaze around the kitchen, I froze. The knives from the wooden block were placed precariously close to the edge of the counter. The hell?
“Dan?” Jane awaited my response.
“Uh, yeah,” I hesitated, “It’s just…the kitchen knives. They’re right on the edge of the counter,” peering over at them from where I was standing. “Out of their box.”
“Oh, were you two cooking or something?” I could tell she didn’t really know what to say.
“Must’ve been Theo trying to help clean up,” I murmured, not entirely convinced by my own reasoning.
“Please be careful,” Jane pressed. “Just keep the knives tucked away far in the corner. Oh, and one more thing, don’t let Theo eat any of the cookies in the glass jar on the second shelf. They’re those with macadamia nuts. I forgot to mention he’s developed a mild allergy.”
“Alright, will do. You focus on your girls’ night out, we’ve got things under control here.”
As I hung up, I was still thrown off by the knives. I don’t remember putting them there, and I sure as hell don’t think Theo actually did. But then I thought, he was a six-year-old, so maybe? Funny that we were just reading a storybook that had kitchen knives placed a tad too close to the counter, as the thought briefly crossed my mind.
Suddenly, Theo’s voice rang out, “Uncle Dan!”
It startled me, and as I jumped, caught me so off guard I ended up knocking one of those freaky knives. I nudged one of the knives and watched in slow motion as it came flying down. I had horrible reflexes, and in situations like this where there wasn’t much time to react, I had to just hope it would miss.
The knife clattered on the floor just next to my foot, barely missing.
I gasped in shock then exhaled a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Geez…
I met Theo in the hallway to find him holding a DVD case up high. “Can we watch this, Uncle Dan?” He looked up with those big, pleading eyes.
“Yeah, sure thing, champ,” I replied, ruffling his hair. “But after a bit, it’s bubble time!” The reminder of bath time made him pull a face that was a mix of ‘really?’ and excitement.
“Can I grab a snack first?” he asked.
“Just keep your hands off the cookie jar,” I said, remembering Jane’s words.
His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Oreos aren’t in the jar, are they?”
I chuckled, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re one smart cookie, you know that?” I said, booping his scrunched-up nose. “Go on, grab your Oreos.”
As he scampered towards the pantry. I was about to get the DVD all set in the living room until I just remembered.
Oh shit, the knives. I went over trailing along not too far behind after him. While tucking the knives back into their box, a soft but distinct hiss reached my ears – unmistakably, the sound of gas. My head jerked around to find the stove flame reaching like it was trying to touch the ceiling. I rushed over to shut it down, and Theo, bless him, piped up from behind me. “I swear, Uncle Dan, I didn’t touch it!”
“You swear?” I pried some more.
“I don’t even know how to turn it on!” he stressed some more.
Fair point. I didn’t know how to work a stove either at that age. Plus, I knew from where the pantry was and where the stove sat in the distance, I don’t really see how he could have turned it on, even if by accident. He did beat me to the kitchen and all, but really, what were the odds of him just randomly turning on the stove by himself for no reason other than to toy with me?
Taking a deep breath, I tried to shake it off. “Alright, let’s get this movie started for you.”
I went ahead and took the disc out of the case. Theo had to use the bathroom first. In the meantime, I set up to get the movie ready in the living room entertainment center. I inserted it into the player and waited for it to load.
As the movie began its startup sequence, the anticipation of a casual family film quickly dissolved. Instead of the familiar title screen or studio logo, the TV showed a jarring, flickering static. The static then gave way to a distorted view of the very house we were in from an outside viewpoint, as if a camera were locked aimed on it. The screen then transitioned to a specific angle, a window.
My eyes strained as I leaned forward, catching a fleeting glimpse of a tall, dark figure silhouetted against the glass. At first, it seemed to meld seamlessly with the surrounding trees, almost camouflaged, and I almost barely even noticed it. And then I saw two yellow gleaming orbs seeping through…
Just like that, the opening logos for the movie cut on, like nothing happened.
I yanked the DVD out so fast you’d think it burned me. “Hey, Theo?” I called out.
“Yeah?” came his voice from the bathroom.
“You almost done in there,” I lied, my heart still racing.
“Why?” he asked.
“I… gotta go next,” I lied, though I suppose I actually could now.
He sassily replied, “Why don’t you just use my mom’s bathroom?”
My eyes darted around, taking in each shadow, every window.
“I, uh, just don’t want you to miss the movie,” I tried to sound calm, eyes still scanning. “Just be quick.”
With a growing unease prickling the back of my neck, I felt an urgent need to ensure that both of us were safe. Every creak of the wooden floors and rustle outside seemed amplified to me. I systematically searched the house for every window. Each room brought its own set of shadows and ambiguities, different patterns of moonlight seeping through the curtains and blinds.
With every tick of the clock, the feeling that eyes were on me itched more and more. At some points, I thought I could feel the weight of a gaze over me or hear a whisper of movement just beyond my line of sight.
As I moved from room to room, checking latches and ensuring every window was secured, a sense of dread spilled over me as I stepped into Jane’s room. The curtains billowed softly by the night’s breeze, revealing a window left carelessly open. My stomach knotted in unease. Of all the windows in this labyrinthine old house, it had to be this one. The cold outside air seemed to carry with it the unsettling whispers of the outside woods.
I quickly shut it and hurried down to Theo’s room, grabbing the old book we’d read from the shelf.
“Theo, you good in there?” I asked simultaneously, as I stepped back into the hall and paced between the living room and kitchen, shakily skimming through the pages.
“Yeah!” he called back.
I really just needed to hear his voice. That was enough reassurance for me. Either way, seeing him would be an added relief bonus.
I skimmed through the pages of the storybook and found myself reading over some of the rhymes we read previously, my eyes halted on the illustrations. The thing that stood out to be in particular was the part about the knives. I was half-joking to myself when I recalled the picture of knives being set to close to the counter edge was oddly familiar to the situation that just occurred momentarily ago. But now that I was looking at it, in the picture, they were positioned oddly close to how they looked…
Then I saw the picture of the children in the book playing with matches, the very ominous background image of flames expanding and threatening to engulf a room. None of the children were harmed in the book, but it was still strangely coincidental with the stove suddenly coming on, supposedly by itself…
And the eyes, the creature’s eyes…
The illustration of it peering in the window, as I gazed down looking at it. And then the video I’d seen…
I started to wonder with a frightful curiosity where the hell Jane got this damn book.
Theo had finally come from out the bathroom, surprising and scaring the shit out of me as he appeared from almost out of nowhere. For as much noise as he usually made, he had a talent for being sneaky when he wanted.
Theo glanced at the book in my hand, his brows furrowing. “What’re you doing with the book, Uncle Dan?”
“Just, uh, checking out the illustrations,” I replied, hoping my answer was convincing enough.
“What happened to the movie?” he continued, his eyes darting to the TV.
“It’s acting up. Probably a glitch,” I answered, trying to divert his attention. “You know what? How about we head to your room and play a game? Or maybe even watch a different movie?”
His eyes lit up at the suggestion, then he pointed at the book I held, saying, “I’ll put it back for you!”
I hesitated for a split second before handing it over, “Thanks, buddy.”
He agreed, offering to take the book back and put it on his shelf, to which I handed it to him and followed along as he ran down the hall into the bedroom.
Just as he stepped through the doorway interjected an elongated arm emerged from the corner, slamming his door shut.
My heart leapt into my throat as I stood across the hall and watched it happen right then and there. A bloodcurdling scream from Theo pierced the air.
“Theo!” I shouted, darting down the hall towards the room.
I desperately turned on the knob, but it resisted, somehow locked on the other side. With adrenaline pumping, I threw my weight against it, bursting it open.
The room was in chaos. Theo was sprawled on the floor, held underneath the now toppled bookshelf. Disarrayed books strewn about, mingling with toys that Theo had precariously perched atop the shelf.
Without a second’s hesitation, I hoisted the shelf off him, setting it back upright against the wall. Kneeling down, I searched Theo’s face for any sign of injury or distress.
“Are you okay?” I asked through shaky breath.
His eyes, wide and filled with shock, met mine as he gave a silent nod.
Desperation lacing my voice, I pressed, “Did you see anyone? A man in the room?”
Theo’s response was a quick, shaken “no.” But I persisted, the image of the dark arm still fresh in my mind.
“I’m certain I saw someone,” I said, my voice rising. “Theo, did you see anyone?!”
Theo’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re scaring me,” he said. Immediately regretting my intensity, I gently placed my hands on his shoulders, trying to soothe and reassure him.
“I’m sorry, buddy, I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I thought something had happened to you for sec.”
As I kneeled before him with my hands still on his shoulder, a glint of movement on the carpet caught my eye — the skittering outline of a bug crawling, its eight legs ominously making its way toward Theo’s foot. My eyes widened as I recognized it as none other than a deadly brown recluse. I instinctively lunged, smashing it with the swift motion of my balled fist before it could pose any threat.
Collecting ourselves, I patted Theo off and began to gather the scattered items. My gaze landed on the Yellow-Eyed Man book, open and face down. I carefully picked it up as thought it would bite me, turning it over to the open picture. It was page 6.
“In silent woods, where whispers confide,
His legend grows, ever worldwide.”
Sticking out like a sore thumb was the striking depiction of a brown spider within the picture.