Paranormal phenomena come in many different varieties, from UFO's to ghosts to Bigfoot and more. For most people interested in these things, we are deeply curious about them, but not really afraid. Surely, don't we know even better than most that the horror stories based on the paranormal are total fiction and that the real supernatural can't do any harm? Unfortunately this is not the case. Some aspects of the paranormal are frightening and dangerous and the subject must be entered into with caution. Real horror stories do happen and one of the most alarming of all is the phenomenon of black-eyed children. This is a fairly recent development in the files of the fantastic and the first investigations into it began in the 1990's, mostly in the
reports go back some years before then and in other parts of the world, as
we'll see. A typical encounter goes thus: the witness' doorbell rings and she
goes to answer it. Standing there is a child aged between eight and thirteen.
The child immediately asks: "Can I come in? I need a drink of water."
or "Can I come in and use your phone please? I won't be very long."
The witness is overcome with very powerful and mixed feelings; on the one hand,
a terrible maddening fear of the child, but also an almost overwhelming urge to
agree to the child's request. The apparitions in these cases look like ordinary
children, in the sense that they have a human body and voice and wear ordinary
clothes, if usually very casual, colourless and drab. Their hair is often
reported to be long and bedraggled. Their skin is often strangely pallid,
unnaturally so. As you'll guess from the name, the most remarkable feature of
the black-eyed children is that their eyeballs are totally black. Not just that
they have a black iris or dilated pupils, but that the entire cornea where the
whites, pupils and iris usually are is a deep homogenous black. The identities
of the children are always unknown to the witness and also everybody in the
community in which they emerge. When they walk away from the scene their
subsequent movements can never be traced. They also sometimes approach people
in parked cars or walk up to them in public places. Usually it's just a single
entity, but they occasionally appear in pairs. Groups of more than two are
extremely rare, but not unheard of.
I've included an incident like this in my new (and so far unfinished) novel The Obscurati Chronicles. Here's an extract:
Bing bong! The doorbell rang. Glyn stood up and started walking over towards the door of the lounge when he froze. He almost yelped aloud as an inexplicable and sourceless wave of terror flooded over him. He stopped dead in his tracks.
His sudden attack of fear confused him. “What the hell’s the matter?” he mumbled to himself aloud.
There was a shorter pause between the second and third ring than there was between the first and second, as if the caller was impatient and their business urgent. Glyn had to force himself to move; he entered the hallway and stared at the front door ahead of him. Through the panes on the door and around the frame he could see a small, slender human figure, distorted by the frosted glass. Glyn's hand shook as he reached for the latch to open the door. He fought the powerful urge not to open the door, rotated the latch and pulled.
A boy of about ten years old stood on the doorstep. He had scruffy black hair and wore a nondescript faded blue jacket and jeans. His skin was very pasty white and his face carried no expression. It took Glyn several moments to notice something very obviously wrong with him. His eyes were completely black; not just in the sense of a black iris, but his entire eyeball. Everything between his eyelids was a featureless black, empty void. Glyn froze and stared.
"Can I come in please?" the boy said. His voice was flat and monotone, almost mechanical like a computer-generated voice. "Can I come in and have a drink of water?"
Afterwards, when Glyn was remembering this incident, he had trouble recalling and understanding what went on in his mind at that moment. As his eyes met the black voids where the eyes of the boy should have been his willpower diverged into two separate forces each motivated differently. One side of himself felt a deep sense sympathy and pity for the child, a longing to invite him inside and give him whatever he wanted. The other felt an overwhelming and incomprehensible horror, disgust and repulsion. These two temporary distorted manifestations of Glyn's consciousness battled each other inside his brain.
"Can I come in please? I need to use your phone. It won't take long."
The door felt as if it weighed ten tons, but Glyn managed to get it shut. As soon as his eye contact with the boy was broken so was the strange mental spell he was under. He ran into the kitchen and screamed aloud with terror. He blundered straight into the table, bashing his ribs which were still bruised, and turned around, pressing his back to it. The shape of the boy through the frosted glass of the door was still visible. Glyn's heart thundered in his chest like a pile driver; his breathing came in gasps. After a few minutes he saw the shape of the boy move away from the door. Glyn slowly tip-toed into the lounge and peered out of the bay window. The boy was still there. He was outside the house uncertainly walking away. The moment Glyn spotted him the boy turned his head and stared back at Glyn, even though it should have been impossible for anybody to see anything inside through the Dutch crocheted netting Glyn's mother has put up over the windows. But somehow the boy sensed Glyn's eyes on him.
Glyn screamed again and pounded upstairs to his own bedroom at the rear of the house. He slammed the door and leaned against it. For a few minutes he just stood there, panting and weeping with fear. Every time he thought of the face of that little boy he almost yelled aloud in fright again. He half expected him to burst out of the wardrobe in his room. It was about half an hour later that Glyn emerged from his room. He made his way along the landing to his parent's bedroom at the front of the house and nervously peeped down at the street between the closed curtains. The mysterious boy was nowhere to be seen. A postman rode by on his bike and several cars passed; everything was normal.
See here for the full segment: http://hpanwo-bb.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/the-obscurati-chronicles-part-16_25.html.