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Lurking in the Darkness


Hello again friends of the creepy and unexplained.


I'm actually dreading writing this post. Just the thought of what I'm about to put into words sends chills down my spine and causes the hairs on the back of my neck to prickle uncomfortably. To this very day, I'm still terrified of open, dark doorways and it's been over two decades since this began. I guess I'll stop procrastinating and get into it.


Remember from one of my first posts when I told my mother about the black figure in her room? That was actually one of its favorite spots to hang out. Almost every time I'd stare down that endless hallway, I'd see the shadow of a man, obscured slightly by the darkness consuming him. Half of his form would be hidden behind the door frame, but I would always see him clearly. A single leg. A single Arm. Shoulder blurry, fading slightly into the darkened background of my parent's room. Then there was his head. He had no features. Just a filled in outline, blacker than the night itself.


This seemed to be his favorite way to appear. Half hidden. He was always standing in a doorway. He would never do anything aside from stand there, but that alone was enough for me.


As I said, to this day, I keep every door in my home shut. You will never catch a door open if there isn't a light on in that room. I know it's probably ridiculous, but I'm always waiting for the day I see the void of his form standing there, waiting for me to notice him.


Sometimes though, you'd know he was there, but you wouldn't be able to see him. When I was a child, I hated being alone in my room. I'd know he was standing in my doorway, watching as I played with my toys, read my books, or just relaxed in my bed. I would actually hide behind my bed when I'd do anything in my room to try to block his line of vision.


You'd know when he was around as you would feel eyes boring into you. A slimy, uneasy feeling would creep over you. An unspent scream would well in your chest, begging to be let out, but no matter what, it would never come. Your hair would stand on end as though you were holding the end of a live wire; electricity coursing over your skin. When finally, you turn around to see who was staring at your back, there would be nothing but empty air.


I never wanted to be left alone in that house.


The days were bad, filled with the feeling of never truly being alone. Having someone breathing down your neck, watching everything you did. But, the nights were the worst.


As I said before, I would wake in the middle of the night to him standing over my bed. Often. I was afraid to sleep. I was afraid to have the lights off. I didn't want to say goodbye to the false sense of security the lights in the house offered, but I had to, aside from the dim night light I always had on in my room. It always offered just enough light to separate my friend more distinctly from the shadows in my room.


Sleep offered no reprieve either. I was always plagued by nightmares.


One that I can still dredge up pretty clearly happened shortly after we moved into the home. The basement was unfinished when we moved in. Concrete floors and exposed support beams. I was standing at the top of the stairs, staring into the endless darkness that was swallowing the entire basement whole. There was a voice. Calling me. Beckoning me to come down the stairs. The next thing I know, I'm standing in the basement. My shadow friend lurking behind one of the supports.


I don't remember much after that. Just the image of him standing in the basement forever burned into my mind.


With that, I think it's time I concluded my horrific adventures for the day.


Until next time,


Stay spooky!

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