A creepy little story for ya'll. I wanted to write about this sooner but I needed a few... days of sleep to feel up to it.


I had a real rough night sleeping last week. A certain incident earlier in the week had left me spooked, and I was barely getting three hours of sleep a night - near death experiences do that.

Just when I felt comfortable enough to try and get some Z's around 4 or 5 AM, I heard a weird set of childlike voices near my window.

"There she is."

"She looks tired."

"Let's help her sleep a long time."

I rather quickly was sitting up on my couch, a rather sizable K-frame revolver in my hand and trained on... three children.

They were two boys and a girl, no older than maybe 10. They were skinny and gaunt looking, their skin rather grey in the fading moonlight. They had dark, disheveled hair and... ugh, their eyes. They were like empty black pools of petrol.

"Please let us on." One said, his voice having an odd... melodic quality to it, like a tune you couldn't get out of your head.

"So we can kill you." said the girl with a disturbing cheer.

"You can sure as hell try." I growled, pulling back the hammer on my .44.

They all just collectively laughed in return, the shadows along the window bars and and ledge beginning to... swirl and dance around them.

"Oh, but we are sure as hell," The other boy smiled as he reached forward. In disbelief, I watched as several tendrils of inky, almost smoke black shadows began to pry open the metal guard over my windows.

And that's when I started shooting.

I am not used to .44 caliber bullets not, at the very least, seriously wounding something or putting a giant hole in them.

As I fired, I watched those shadows surrounding the kids suddenly flicker in front of them, briefly obscuring their dead little faces. The next thing I realize, there's a giant hole in my drywall - somehow, my shot was deflected.

I fired several more times, ignoring the kick and loud report as I growled. Two of the kids just smirked as the bullets went plinging off of those shadows. The third one waved his arms, those shadowy tendrils beginning to bend the metal guards over my window with a creak.

I felt my hands become warm before a fwoosh of flame lit up my apartment, a focused spray of fire hitting the window. I didn't want to burn down my apartment - or my building, for that matter - but these kids were kind of pissing me off.

"Oooooh, look sister," the male sneers gleefully. "She wants to play. *Hard.*" one of the children commented - the flames bending around him harmlessly.

"She won't after we're done with her."The girl bending the bars smirked at me as she continued bending my window guard. As she did, the smaller boy reached out, shadowy ribbons whipping about himself before flinging themselves at me wildly.

I felt very, very cold as a strong force hit me square on, everything very black as darkness whipped around me. The next thing I realized, I was laying on the ground, freezing and feeling like something punched me really hard - about as hard as Mingus did back some months ago, even though that kid looked like he barely got through puberty.

This wasn't turning out well.

"This really is easy." laughed the boy who just floored me, another mess of shadowy ribbons flying at me.

There was the splintering of laminated wood as the dark blast struck where I had been laying, the bitter cold radiating from the dent in the floor three feet away as I rolled to my feet, grabbing my gun...

...and running for my kitchen, heading for my back door.

"Goodie! She's going to make it interesting for us!" giggled the girl from behind me, as I heard the guards over my windows give way with a loud snap followed by the clattering of wrought iron.

"But it will be dawn soon." warned one of her friends/brothers as I flung open the window open to my back door, the night chilly in the pre-dawn.

"Plenty of time." the girl responded as I began clattering down the rusty stairs of my fire escape.

I wasn't sure why they were after me, and I wasn't sure why dawn mattered. Still, I checked my watch - almost 5 AM.

Couldn't burn 'em, shouldn't shoot 'em. This was going to be close.

Due to a certain raging bitch of a storm known as Sandy, it might be a bit before I finish this. Still, while I have power still...

I ended up throwing myself through the window of the market market - stupid, I know, but the door didn't look like a viable option, what with the security grate. I took a few cuts and my shoulder was aching as I stood up, glancing behind me to see the swarm of insects approaching outside.

Conjuring fire feels... well, it's real hard to explain. I've heard it described differently by different folks. One guy I know described it as pure confidence in a thousand degree flame. Another girl I know described it as comforting warmth - that it would keep her nice and toasty, and everything would be okay. As for me, I think of it as a rush. I was always a bit of a thrill junkie though.

That time though? It just felt like revenge.

The insects attempted to swarm through the window en masse, hoping there would be enough of them getting by my little flamethrower trick even as smoke and burning wasps began to cloud my view of outside.

I felt a sting in my hand as a lucky bug managed to pinch me before being burnt to a crisp. I ignored it briefly to get an idea of how I was doing - the tide of bugs had been briefly stifled, but not stopped as they began to swarm along each side of the window. This window-frame stand wasn't going to fly. I just couldn't bring up enough fire - not without completely exhausting myself.

I ran down one of the aisles, checking my hand briefly - though I was bleeding, it looked more like a bite than a sting. Important since I didn't want to die of unholy bug venom melting my brains. For once I needed those, after all.

Bodegas are not exactly renowned for their selection of goods, but this one had exactly what I needed in baking goods. As the swarm of insects began to scamper down the aisle towards me, pinchers clamping and stingers primed, I began to fling my secret weapon at them straight off of the shelves.

Bags of flour struck the floor with a thud, squishing a few of the demonic bugs as a cloud of chalky white dust filled the aisle. I continued to throw the four, trying not to inhale too much as I began to back away.

Obscured by the cloud, I could hear the black eyed children giggling.

"Stop trying to hide, silly. Our friends are going to find you. Why fight it?" teased the girl, the presumed ringleader of the pack.

"Hiding? I'm right here!" I shouted, kneeling down behind an open-top cooler of pizza rolls before snapping my fingers and focusing a bit of myself into a small act of creation = before covering my ears and face, of course.

Against the steel shelves, i saw the glare of a brief spark somewhere within hat cloud of flour. Half a second later, the entire aisle erupted in a bright, fiery explosion.

God. Damn. That was satisfying.

My nose and eyes stung with the caustic smoke of burned insects as I could hear the small screams of still dying insects. Sitting up and coughing, I peered through the still flaming contrails of dust and insects as I could see those three children, the flames having stopped about half a foot from them in a half-sphere, flickering shadows still guarding them. That said, they were groaning and shuddering in pain like an invisible force was beating them with a switch.

Those insects were a part of them, apparently. And they were dead.

"We're... agh.. going to enjoy killing you for that!"shouted one of the boys, a hint of anger in his voice - finally.

"Promises promises." I taunted, before heading for the back room exit.

I was going to owe the owner of this place so many apologies when this was over. I just hoped he didn't have CCTV set up. That would have been real hard to explain.

Sharp things like knives, teeth and claws work well too.

Reminds me of the Black Eyed Children I read about on the internet, but the encounters vary.

Think they could be related?

What do you think they are?

What, if any, is their relationship to the Slenderman?