I managed to get back to bed without getting caught. My dad was still sleeping. But the terror of my overbearing dad had now been replaced by the gut terror of these “kids” that I heard and saw murder Mr. Grincher, suck out his soul, stare at me, and telepathically threaten to steal my lifeforce. I could not get those horrific images out of my damn head. I had hid the mechanical wings under my bed, had gotten into my pajamas, and was lying on the sandy blanket, replaying horror porn over and over in my head. I tried to think of Jordan. Her image came back at me with black eyes. I tried to think of my amazing home run. The baseball diamond was dark and all of the spectators were those beings with those soulless eyes. I tried to think about the “Submarine Bomb” and my mind instantly jumped to that grisly image of Grincher’s corpse which resembled Otzi the Iceman. His face was contorted in such a degree of terror that my heart shook upon envisaging it. I could not forget. They would not let me forget. They would torment me with memories till the day I died… or the day that they finally took hold of my soul. This world was no longer safe.
Knock! Knock! Knock! I turned to the bedroom door. They had returned. Knock! Knock! Knock! Hopefully, my dad would sleep through this whole ordeal. Knock! Knock! Knock!
Unfortunately not. I heard the opening of the master bedroom door. My heart immediately jumped to the sky as I quickly tiptoed to the door and spied on my dad, hoping against hope he would not be a dummy. The foyer lights were turned on, brightening the dark space. My dad was looking through the peephole. After retracting it, I could see the unsettled fear in his eyes. He exhaled hard. But still, he chose to remove the latch. Then his hand slowly reached out to the doorknob. “No, no, no,” I whispered hurriedly as the knob was turned. The door was opened. A hooded boy and a hooded girl were standing behind the doorstep. They kept their eyes on the ground, evidently waiting to scare him into submission.
The boy looked to be around 14 years old and he had the same features as the other beings-an outdated jet-black hoodie, black jeans, black sneakers, and a pale white face. The girl was an exact clone copy of her companion. After a long, dreadful silence in which my dad studied them nervously, he was forced to break the ice.
“Is there anything I can help you with?”
A longer, more suspenseful silence followed before the hooded girl responded.
“May I use your phone?” It was the same polite and robotic voice. My goosebumps came down my body like megatsunamis. A pit of internal dread manifested in my stomach and was beginning to gnaw it away.
“So, why do you have to use our phone?”
The longest silence of all before the girl replied “Our mother is worried.” Same playbook.
“Come on, come on, come on,” I whispered. “Do it for me, dad! Do it for me!”
“Don’t worry, we’ll be quick” assured the girl.
Andrew looked back inside with an increasingly worried face. What should he do? This was his ponderance time and it was a crucial time as my whispers could subconsciously travel into his mind and preserve the courses of our existences.
“Dad, dad, dad! Don’t open the door, please? Look, if you’re mad at me for all the bad stuff I did, I’m sorry. I’m sorry dad! Whatever you tell me to do, I’ll do it. Scrubbing the toilets? Yes. Working at the local dog shelter? Yes. Drinking toilet water? I’ll do it! Just don’t let them in to kill us please! We need each other!”
By this time, I was practically down on my knees, begging. Hopefully, my telepathic messages made it across the air to his head.
“Please let us use the phone” pleaded the girl with a sad tinge to her voice. “Our mother is worried.”
It was then that both kids raised their heads. Solid black eyes. No irises. No sclera. Just four black, bottomless, soulless eyes. Staring straight into his eyes as the embodiment of the oblivion of the void. My dad was frozen in time. Hypnotized, he was. I had to do something to break the spell.
“Close the door.”
The deep freeze seemed to be below absolute zero.
“Close the door!”
My whisper was now near shouting level. Just then, Andrew grabbed his door arm and forced it to the doorknob. With the addition of his other arm, the front door was closed. The lock was turned. The latch was reinstated.
“Please help us!” called the girl urgently.
Then the dead silence returned. Phew! I breathed such a huge sigh of relief that if God had not had mercy on me, my dad would have caught me awake and man, how creative his punishments would be! But even that did not matter as I was eternally grateful that my dad stood his ground and did not give in. Unlike Mr. Grincher, Andrew Garcia had at least a properly functioning brain.
I returned to bed. Forgetfulness was now absolutely impossible. The images had been reinforced. Children with black eyes. Black eyes. Black eyes. I turned to the window. Bright lights were flashing outside. Against my better judgement, I opened the curtains. The streetlamps were turning on and off schizophrenically. On and off. On and off. On and off. And the strobe lighting was accompanied by an electrical buzzing that grew louder with each flash. The longer they buzzed, the more I feared they would short circuit.
My fears came true. Bzzt! All six streetlamps below died. Everything outside plunged into gloomy darkness. It was very difficult to see anything, even the outlines of cars and buildings. But I could see two outlines that were standing in the driveway. Two outlines that were blacker than night. Blacker than the darkness. Two hooded figures. With glowing white faces. They were staring at me, staring into my eyes with their black, coal, soulless lumps. My fear and dread were pedaling at rapid speeds. Primal fear and dread. From the beginning of life.
I looked up at the sky. It was starless, moonless, sunless. It was truly the blackest night. Scratch-scratch-scratch. I looked down. The two hooded Black Eyed Kids were scaling up the condo wall in truly inhuman, spider-like fashion. And they were faster than any professional climber. And they were grinning, their black-stained teeth showing. Momentarily, I was hypnotized by their disturbing movements but fortunately, the spell broke for me to make a dash to the living room.
I grabbed the landline and dialed 911. My breathing was shallow but fast as my anxiety increased with every upward scratch.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“There are two demon kids climbing up my wall! They want to kill me!!”
“What is your address?”
“1107-100 Westwood Drive.”
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Tell me what is going on.”
“There are two demon kids who are climbing up my wall. They wanted to come in before but my dad did not let them in. Now they’re trying to get inside through the bedroom window! Please help!!”
“Where is your dad?”
“He’s asleep right now.”
“What do these children look like?”
“They’re-they’re extremely pale, wearing hoodies, but it’s the black eyes! The black eyes! THE EYES!!!”
“Where did you see these two children?”
“My bedroom window. Please come! PLEASE COME!!!”
“Thank you for call-.”
The line grew fuzzier and patchier as the interference grew and metastasized.
“Please, stay with me!” I shouted. “Stay with me!”
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! The connection was permanently dead.
Tap! Tap! Tap! The Black Eyed Kids were tapping on the bedroom windowpane. Tap! Tap! Tap! Suddenly and mysteriously, the connection was restored but the two voices-they were definitely not the 911 operator.
“Let us in… let us in… let us in…” It was a chorus of robotic kids. And they were compelling me to look at the window. No, no way I was going to do that! So with mental fortitude, I charged blindly into the bedroom, made a left u-turn into the closet, shut the door, plugged my ears, and prayed against hope that these evil beings would go away.
“Please God, make them go away… please God, make them go away… please God, make them go away…”
It was such a long, long time before I could believe my ears. Sirens were trumpeting in from the distance. Salvation was coming. It was coming quickly! With a plucking up of courage that I had never experienced until now, I burst out of the closet and looked straight at the window. No one was there. Only air. Audibly, the knocks were gone. Phew! My sigh of relief could have encircled the earth.
…………
“What were you doing when you saw those two kids climbing up the side of the condo wall?” Officer Caleb Washington was a tall, austere, unsmiling man. His scowling face greatly reminded me of Mr. Grincher but right now, he was the only hope I had of spreading the word of the dangers of the Black Eyed Kids. If he was a professional, he would believe what I said. His build was quite intimidating. He had a solid, stout, muscular face. His brown hair was arranged in a neat crew cut. His lips were obscured by his humongous Chevron moustache that was from bygone days. Bulging veins threaded down his giant biceps. Speaking of clothing, a black bulletproof vest covered much of his black dress shirt. The vest came with a variety of cool gadgets like an external speaker microphone, a first aid kit, a flashlight, and a bodycam. His utility belt included more: two holsters, many magazine pouches, a radio pouch, several handcuffs, pepper spray, and a taser. Below these were black cargo pants and black leather shoes. Officer Caleb was geared in battle-readiness.
“I-I had just woken up.” I had to lie. If my dad found out I had been sneaking out, the grounding would get way worse and that was equal to being killed by the Black Eyed Kids. “And I looked through the window and saw them.”
“Which window?”
“The bedroom window.”
“Can you show me?” I led him to my bedroom and pointed at the brick wall that descended metres below to the hard ground.
“They were climbing up this wall?”
“Yes, this one.”
“What was their climbing style?”
“Very unnatural, like a spider.” He nodded as he typed these things down on Apple Notes. “Could you give a detailed description of them, to the best of your ability?”
“They were wearing black hoodies. Their faces were glowing pale white. And their eyes-they were black.”
“They were wearing contact lenses,” my dad chimed in. I could see that his rolling facial muscles were attempting to hold in the volcanic explosion that would soon result once the officer left. I now dreaded that time. Officer Caleb turned to my dad.
“So you saw these kids as well?” My dad nodded.
“They knocked at around 3 a.m., asking to come in. They wanted to use our phone. I did not let them enter.”
“How old were these two kids?”
“Both looked to be young teenagers.”
“Okay, okay.” Officer Caleb had finished jotting and was now looking at us. I was eagerly awaiting the verdict that would confirm what I saw and experienced and would spare me from both certain death at the BEKs and further punishment at the hands of my father. I did not get both. Officer Caleb’s next statement sealed the doom over my entire body.
“I will look into this.”
“Officer!” I cried. “Officer! You have to do something about these kids!”
“Calvin,” my dad began through gritted teeth but I continued, regardless.
“These kids-they’re not human! They’re evil and they want to kill all of us! You must tell everyone that we cannot invite them into our homes under any circumst-.”
My voice faltered away as I realized that Officer Caleb did not believe a word that I was saying. In fact, he was looking at me as if I was a patient in a lunatic asylum.
“Your son has been watching too many fairy tales or conspiracy theories. Some good advice would be to limit his screen time on these topics.” My dad nodded. The officer began for the front door. “I will update you if there are any further developments. But for now, just follow your common sense and don’t invite strangers in, no matter what they say. Alright, good night.” With that, he left.
As soon as Andrew Garcia had locked the door, the raging chastisement had begun. And yes, it was hell.
“Don’t think I’m that stupid,” he began, with a slight snarl. To be honest, I was completely unprepared for this statement.
So my only response was “What did I do?”
“Don’t be a dummy!” His snap was like the wiring shut of a crocodile’s jaws. “You knew those two kids!” For a second, I thought that my dad needed the madhouse.
“No I don-.”
“Yes you did! Stop lying!!” He slammed his hand on the door, which made a loud booming noise. “You got your friends Jordan and Andy to dress up as some ghosts in order to scare me so I would cancel the grounding! NO WAY!!!” SLAM!!! By now, it was imperative to reveal the truth or else the punishment would swiftly fall upon me. A small piece of my mind was telling me that confession might elicit mercy from my strict, furious dad and he would ultimately relent.
“No, I saw those Black Eyed Kids before. And-and I barely escaped them-them.”
I was so dead wrong.
My dad’s face was expanding like a tomato as he shouted “YOU SNUCK OUT, DIDN’T YOU?!!!” I was frozen speechless by the detonation of his verbal A-bomb. “ANSWER ME BOY, DIDN’T YOU?!!!!” The “boy” was a common technique that he would use when he was furious with me. It was eerily similar to the tactic used by the late Mr. Grincher. And in thinking about this constant treatment from supposedly “older, wiser” adults, it enraged me.
“Andrew, you are just a deadbeat dad who doesn’t care about me unless I’m punished!” I shot back in my quavering prepubescent voice. “And punishing me is the only hobby you have!”
“YOU ARE A DISOBEDIENT, NAUGHTY BRAT!!!!” He was now flinging his arms as if he had Parkinson’s. “YOU ARE A SON OF PERDITION!!!! AND YOU WILL BE GOING TO HELL!!!!! DAMN YOU!!!!!!!!” By now, I was crying at the injuries sustained from his evil attacks. Andrew Garcia was not my dad-he was a fake father pretending to be my real father. My real father was actually locked in a closet in an alternate dimension. This was a demonic impostor.
“I HATE YOUUUU!!!!!” I yelled at this piece of fakery.
“GO TO YOUR ROOM!!! AND YOU’RE GROUNDED UNTIL THE NEW YEAR!!!! AND IF YOU TALK ONE WORD MORE ABOUT THESE KIDS, I’M SENDING YOU TO JAIL!!!!!”
I ran into my bedroom, slammed the door, buried myself under the covers, and sobbed until I was too tired to do so and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. There was absolutely nothing I could do but to submit to such penal conditions and wait for my execution date at the hands of the Black Eyed Kids, which my dad would now be eager to invite inside.
