𝕿𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖓 𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

        Everywhere I go, they’re there. Even when I can’t see them, I know that they are following me. I’ve done everything I can to escape—truly, I have—but it’s been a futile attempt. I fear that they will always be with me; following me, watching me, talking to me. I don’t think that I will ever be able to escape. Not until I die.
        I glance around the room again. I know they’re here. I can feel their eyes on me. But where are they? My eyes land on every person in the room, but none of them are who I’m looking for. I know I’m not alone here. I haven’t been alone in years.
        “Alan? Are you listening to me?”
        I turn my attention back to my date. Elsie, in all of the years that we’ve been together, has been patient beyond belief. Other people have gotten tired of having to put up with them, but not her. Never her. She’s always been there for me despite the complications that they bring. Even if she did decide to give up too, I don’t think I could be mad. She’s put up with so much already. Hell, I would leave me too.
        “I’m sorry, dear,” I say. “I was just… Well, you know.”
        Elsie shows me a kind smile and places her hand on mine. “I know.”
        She goes back to telling me her story. Even though I can feel the burning of their eyes on me, I make sure to give her as much of my attention as I can. And it’s a good thing too. If I had stopped listening again, I never would have known about her promotion.
        “That’s so great!” I cheer. “What do you want for dessert? Get whatever you’d like. It’s all on me.”
        “You don’t have to do that, honey.”
        We humour each other by bickering about it. We do this every time we go out, and every time it ends the same way. I would never allow her to cover a bill that I have more than enough funds for. She pays for stuff for us so often already. It would feel like taking advantage to ask her to pay for our food too. And when we’re celebrating her being promoted? You don’t ask people to pay for themselves when you’re celebrating them.
        A bright flash lights up the table and blinds me. When my vision clears up, I look around for the person who took our picture. People are everywhere, but no one has a camera pointed at us. No one is even looking at us. Otherwise, people are walking by as normal. There’s nothing unusual. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.
        “Are you okay?” Elsie asks me.
        I direct my attention back to her. “I was trying to find the person who took our picture.”
        “Someone took our picture?”
        “Well, maybe. It looked like someone did because of the light.”
        She looks at me in a way that I can only describe as ‘sadness’. Her mouth is turned up in something that’s almost a smile, but it’s not quite right. Her eyes are too lifeless for her to actually be smiling.
        “What?” I ask.
        “There wasn’t a light, dear,” she answers. “Or, if there was, I didn’t notice it. It doesn’t look like anyone else did either.”
        I ponder this. That would explain why everyone else is unfazed. “It must have been them,” I say with a shrug.
        “That’s what I think too.”
        Her tone makes me uncomfortable. I can hear the difference in it. She doesn’t sound annoyed or angry. It’s more like… disappointment, maybe? What could she be sad about? Did I drift off while she was talking again? I know she knows it’s not my fault, but I can’t expect her to always be okay with it either. I need to do better. I can do better.
        I clear my throat, determining it my responsibility to get things back on track. “What else is new? Does the promotion come with a better workspace?”
        “No, but that’s okay. I really like my current office,” she responds with a more sincere smile. “Otherwise, I don’t have a lot to say. I’m still waiting to hear back from the school on whether I can assist with that play.”
        “I can’t imagine that they’ll tell you no. Not with your experience.”
        Elsie laughs. “‘Experience’? I performed in one play in high school.”
        “It’s not your fault they never did another show,” I say with a shrug.
        “That is true. And it was a great performance, wasn’t it?” I agree with her. “What about you? Do you have anything new going on that you haven’t shared yet?”
        I think. “Not really. I ordered a new camera yesterday. I’m not sure when it’s going to arrive, but I hope that it’s before the end of the week. They’ve been breaking into my house, so I’m feeling kind of impatient. I want to set it up inside the living room. I hope that I can catch them if I do.”
        She cocks her head. “How is another camera going to help? You already have them scattered all around the outside of the house and spread out around the inside. You have cameras everywhere.”
        “I know, it’s so excessive.” I pause to take a bite out of my cake. “I just don’t know how they’re getting past them.”
        Her face does that thing again that makes me nervous. But she still doesn’t say anything. The burning feeling in my back gets stronger. They saw that too. They’re judging me. I want to turn around and try to see them, but I need to give her my attention right now. She’ll be flying back home tomorrow. I don’t want to lose any more of my time with her to them. They don’t deserve it.
        “Alan, I think that you should consider the possibility that they’re not real,” she says quietly.
        I raise my eyebrow. “Not real? Of course they’re real! Why would I make that up?”
        “I don’t think you’re making it up. I think your brain is. I think that they’re hallucinations.”
        I sigh. “Elsie, please, we’ve talked about this before.”
        “I know. And I think it’s time to talk about it again.”
        “No. If they were hallucinations, I would know.”
        “How?” She asks. “How would you know? What would make you more aware than any other person who sees or hears things that aren’t there?”
        I ponder this. I’m aware of hallucination disorders enough to know that she has a point. If they’re not real, would I know? Would I be able to recognise it? There are a lot of people who think things are real but don’t realise they’re not. I could be one of them, in theory. But if they are hallucinations, surely they wouldn’t be so present. Eventually, they would have to disappear. I wouldn’t be plagued with them like this. Right?”
        “Alan?” I look at Elsie. She still has that unnerving look on her face, but now I know what it is. It’s worry.
        “I’m fine,” I quickly assure her. “I’m just thinking about it.”
        She nods in silent understanding. “Okay, honey. Take your time.”
        I spend time mulling over my thoughts. By the time we’ve paid and are walking outside, I still haven’t deciphered whether I believe her suspicions or if I believe that she’s wrong. I understand her concern, but is there anything viable to it? They could be real and she could just be unaware of them. Then again, they could be hallucinations and I could be aware of how much of my mind I can’t control.
        I shake my head. “No,” I say aloud. “I don’t think so.”
        “You don’t think what?” Elsie says.
        “They’re real. I know they’re real.”
        The worried look reappears. “I think that you should talk to someone, just in case.”
        “No. I don’t need to.” I start the car. “I have proof that they’re real.”
        The wipes the worry right off of her face. It’s replaced with surprise. “You do?”
        “Sure I do! I have cameras everywhere!”
        I drive us to my apartment. There’s minimal traffic, which I find pleasing. I don’t mind traffic, but I am certainly not in the mood for it right now. I just want to get home to my computers and show Elsie that I’m not, like, out of my mind or something. I can understand where she’s coming from and why she’s concerned. I really hope this helps. I need this to help.
        When we arrive at my building, I take the first parking space I see. I’m able to get to the other side of the car and open her door for her. Elsie thanks me, then follows me to the front doors. We go up to my apartment together. Neither of us bothers with talking.
        Once we’re in, I run to my bedroom. I unlock both of the locks I have installed, then throw the door open. Elsie enters behind me. I hear her gasp but decide to ignore it. I’m sure that a lot of people would be surprised by how my room looks. Not everyone has five TVs mounted to their walls combined with a computer screen so big that it would make extreme gamers jealous. But these aren’t for entertainment purposes. They’re for security.
        I pull up my camera history. I was smart enough to save the footage I want to show her, so it doesn’t take me long to find the exact time and date I want. I assign different angles from the same event to different screens. I play all of them, then jump out of my chair. I point as the footage starts to play.
        “Okay, this is from November, around Thanksgiving. Pay attention to the hallway camera, especially.”
        We watch the footage together. It occurs to me that I should have shortened the clip before saving it. It takes way too long for us to get to the part that matters the most. But when we finally get to it, I almost start screaming.
        “There! Pay attention to this bottom corner!”
        I point at the exact spot I want her to keep her attention on. Elsie watches with me as a tall, black figure walks into view from the living room. It approaches my bedroom door, then proceeds to stand there. The video goes on for another forty seconds. It ends when the figure turns and walks back into the living room.
        “Did you see it? Did you see it?” I ask her anxiously.
        Elsie’s face is pale and twisted up; like she might vomit. “Holy shit,” she says.
        “I told you. They’re real! I’m just trying to catch them.”
        “Alan, that is scary. Like, very scary. Have you tried talking to the police yet?”
        “No. No one can see them—only my cameras and I can. If I went to the police, I’d only be able to show them the footage. They wouldn’t be able to help me. You’re the only person I’ve told.”
        She nods. “That makes sense. Oh my god, this is weird.”
        “I know!” I shout again. “It’s creepy as fuck!”
        “Is there anything that you can do about it? Like, to keep them out or something?”
        “Not that I know. I’ve tried everything I could possibly think of doing.”
        Elsie sits on my bed. After a few awkward seconds, I sit next to her. The talking is over. Now it’s time for more thinking. We have nothing more to say, but a lot to wonder about. Now that she knows for sure that they’re real, is she at risk too? Am I even at risk? They’ve been following me around for years now, and they haven’t tried to attack me yet. I don’t know what they’re doing.
        Eventually, I get tired of the nothing and get up. I turn off the recorded videos, switching my monitor back to Live View. The apartment is empty aside from us. At least, I think it is. I still don’t have eyes in the living room.
        Elsie gets up and watches the TVs with me. We both stare intently as we wait for something, anything, to happen. We spent hours like that—standing in the middle of the room with our eyes trapped on the screens. Nothing happens. I’m not surprised. Most of the time, they do a good job of avoiding the cameras. It’s a very frustrating, almost impressive, skill of theirs. Elsie seems just as annoyed with it as I always am.
        “Are they always here?” She asks me.
        “No,” I answer. “No matter where I go, there’s an inconsistency. Sometimes they’re around, sometimes they’re not. I never know when I’m going to see them or where.”
        “Do they want anything from you?”
        “If they do, they’re doing a really bad job of telling me that.”
        “Have they ever attacked you?”
        “No, but sometimes it feels like they might. I can, like, feel their aura. It gets really threatening sometimes.”
        “Why?”
        “I don’t know.”
        From the corner of my eye, I’m able to see her shudder. “Is that inconsistent too?”
        “Not really. The aura has always been threatening. It’s been getting stronger in the past year or so.”
        For the first time since I turned on the TVs, she looks at me. Her head snaps in my direction at a speed that makes me think her neck might break. “Are you serious?” She asks. “They could be planning to attack you!”
        I place my hand on her shoulder. “Maybe, but we can’t freak out. The more nervous or scared we get, the stronger the aura gets. They want us scared.”
        “Why? How do you know that?”
        “The more scared I get, the more uneasy I feel. For a long time, I thought it was the other way around—like the reason I was uneasy was because I was scared. But it’s not. I feel uneasy because I can feel their energy, and their energy gets really strong the more afraid I am. They like it.”
        “What do we do?”
        I shrug. “I don’t know. To my knowledge, there is nothing to do but watch the cameras and breathe and hope.”
        I walk across the room to my refrigerator. I ask her if she wants anything to drink, then I get a bottle of water for us both. I explain to her that they don’t usually enter my room, so we should be safe in here. That helps relax her. The only good thing to come from this is that I don’t think she’s going to be flying back to New York anytime soon. She’s too on edge to walk through the apartment and leave. I know she is. I was too when they first started coming around me. It makes living a lot harder than it was before. I could probably get her a job at the company I work for. We could both stay in forever; working through computer screens and using the connected bathroom. We’ll never have to leave the room again except to pick up food deliveries. Drivers won’t walk in and come to my room. I know they won’t—I’ve already asked.
        Slowly, time moves on. I glance periodically at the clock and watch as we sink further into the night. At midnight, I make the suggestion that we go to bed. Elsie agrees, but neither of us moves.
        Suddenly, Elsie gasps. I turn around so fast that I have to stop myself from falling over. She’s looking back at me. I can see the light behind her eyes. “Google!” She cheers. “Have you tried asking Google yet?”
        “Google?” I repeat the question. “No, that never occurred to me. I don’t even know how I would.”
        “Let me handle that.”
        Elsie gets off of the floor and steals my computer chair. She minimises the camera controller screen, then gets on the browser. She starts typing at a speed that seems inhuman. I sit on the bed, keeping my eyes on the TVs as I do. The cameras should always be monitored.
        I’m not used to being in my room with other people. The sound of typing and clicking is both soothing and maddening. I don’t complain aloud, but it does take a lot more strength than expected. Still, this is better than usual. I hate being alone now.
        Elsie sighs. “Google isn’t really helpful. I did use the image search on one of your screenshots of them, but all that did was take me to an online forum. In good news, you’re not the only person to experience them.”
        I get up and switch places with her. I scroll through the forum, reading different entries about the phenomena. It’s mostly people asking about other people who have been plagued, but every once in a while there’s a post about the actual beings. I eventually run into one that’s full of theories about what they are and why they exist.
TripleThreat669: I think that they’re like guardian angels. How cool would it be if they were here protecting us from things we can’t see?!
t1tm0nst3r: And how does that make sense??? Why would they be haunting us if they were angels?
Fyre_Wolf: Someone called them demons. I agree with that take
CZkFighter: Has anyone heard from 65tUrl7? He hasn’t been online in a month. I’m worried the things got him 😦
LunaStar400: He might be dead if it’s been that long. These things can kill us. I’ve seen it happen.
CZkFighter: 😮 Are you serious????
LunaStar400: Yeah. I wrote a post detailing the experience. It’s scary shit.
        I click on LunaStar400’s account. She has a few posts about them—enough that she has a tag next to her name that says ‘Post Popstar’. It takes me a considerable amount of time to get to the very bottom of her feed. When I do, I find the post she told CZkFighter about. I start reading it to myself. If it’s true, it’s probably best that Elsie doesn’t know about it yet.
The story you’re about to read is 100% true. I have death records and pictures proving everything I have to say.
In 2001, I went out drinking with a friend I made in college. Throughout the entire night, she was really jumpy. Like, ‘everything was scary’ jumpy. When I asked her if she was okay, she insisted that she was fine and told me that it was best if I didn’t know. Later that night, when we were back at her house and asleep, I was woken up by her screaming. I ran to her bedroom and saw this black, smoky figure on top of it. It tore her body apart and then, like, possessed it. I ran away before it attacked me too. The figure followed me and has been following me ever since. I cannot escape it.
If you have a figure of your own, you need to keep yourself calm. They get off on terrorising us. And when you’re scared long enough, they attack. Do NOT let other people know about it. It will move on to them when you’re gone.
        I shudder. I’ve put Elsie’s life on the line already. By showing her my cameras, I signed for her death myself. I find myself with even more questions and go back to the main forum. No matter how much I search, I can’t find any more information. No one knows how to fight them, or if they can be fought. The only new information I gather is that they’re passed on when someone dies. No one knows anything else.
        I start thinking of my grandfather. Everyone thought that he was losing his mind because he talked about seeing people that no one else could. I spent years tormenting myself for not being able to properly see and describe the killer, despite being in the same. Are they what killed him?
        Drawing in a slow, deep breath, I try to calm myself down. It doesn’t help at all. I feel like I just solved a cold case—and I suppose that in a way, I have. I can feel my heart racing underneath my chest. I close my eyes. They’ll come for us if I don’t calm down. This is the worst possible time to start panicking.
        I reopen my camera controller, then stand up. I embrace Elsie. She stiffens when I do but doesn’t protest. She smells like vanilla and grapefruit. I used to hate the combination, but right now I find it soothing. Soothing is good. I hold onto her and breathe until I feel my heart start to calm back down. I can always count on Elsie for that. She’s like a human anti-anxiety pill.
        “I’m going to go to bed,” I say after finally letting her go. “Do you want to sleep with me?”
        She shakes her head. “No, I’m too freaked out. I’m going to stay up and watch the cameras. We can switch when you wake up.”
​​​​​​​        I give her a kiss and crawl into bed. This arrangement could work out for us—so long as I don’t think about the forums.
        Fear starts sinking back into my body. I focus on my body, counting each breath as I draw them in and out. It doesn’t force the anxiety away, but it does start making me tired. I’m eventually able to fall asleep.
        It doesn’t feel like even ten minutes have passed before I’m violently woken up to the sound of screaming. My eyes shoot open just in time for me to see them jumping on top of it. Elsie, seeing that I’m awake, stops yelling and interferes. She tries to pull them off of me, but instead falls through the shadow. They pull her out of their body and throw her across the room. That’s when I notice just how heavy their weight is. I start wiggling around as much as I can in hopes of knocking them off of me. No matter how much I move, they don’t budge.
        Deciding that fighting is futile, I give up. I look at them; finally seeing that they have a face. Their eyes aren’t as dark as the rest of their body. Instead of black, they’re a dark grey. I feel a shiver go down my spine. And at that exact time, they smile. Their teeth are sharp and redder than blood. Impulsively, I start screaming.
        The air turns sinister as they lift one of their arms. They bring it down onto my face. My screams get muffled underneath their hand. I hear the snap of my nose, followed by the feeling of my teeth detaching from my gums. My jaw is the next thing to break. I feel it snap underneath the weight and slip away from me. The blood pours out of my mouth onto my chest. I don’t know when Elsie started screaming again, but now she can’t stop.
        I stare into their eyes while they crush me. They’re so happy to see me suffer like this—to hear Elsie suffer through this. I feel a rush of anger flow through me, but there’s nothing I can do. My arms are stuck underneath them. No matter how hard I try, I can’t free myself.
        Just when I completely lose my ability to breathe, they break apart. Their limbs detach from their body and soar through the air. I close my eyes as they come back to engulf me.
        When I open my eyes again, I see Elsie through a thick fog. Her face is covered in tears, and she’s shaking. Her phone is in her hand with the police on the line, but she’s not speaking. She’s lost the ability to use words. An uncontrollable, intense feeling of pleasure seeps into where my heart used to be. I suddenly like seeing her afraid. I want to see her more afraid.
        I attack her the same way that they attacked me. I can’t help it. I need her to scream. And my god, does she scream.