Black-eyed Children Phenomena

Black-eyed Children Phenomena

Black-eyed Children Phenomena

0 comments 📅20 December 2013, 02:13

Black-eyed children have but one consistent request, invite us in. Whatever you do, don’t invite them into your black-eyed-childrenhome!

Imagine this. You and your better half are on your way home after a late night out on the town. You pull into a convenience store, and you wait in the car while he runs in for something. You’re sitting there in the dark waiting for him to return when suddenly you get an inexplicable, overwhelming feeling of terror. You sit up a little straighter and glance toward the driver’s side window. There staring in at you are two children – but not just any children. These are “Black Eyed Children,” and they want to get into the car with you.

Sound like something from a horror movie? Well, it’s not. It’s as real as it gets. According to David Weatherly, a paranormal investigator and author, who has written a book called “Black Eyed Children,” incidents or visitations by these strange children are occurring worldwide. They have one simple request, they want to come in. They appear on doorsteps, at car windows, hotel rooms and even boats.

Weatherly says there are thousands of reported sightings of these Black Eyed Children. Sometimes they travel in pairs, sometimes in groups and sometimes you’ll see just one. They knock on doors and tap on windows all over the world, asking to be let in.

Witnesses report these weird children asking to come into the house to use the phone or for a ride home because they’re lost or they forgot something. They speak in a demanding monotone and regardless of what is said to them, they don’t say much more than “Let us in. We won’t hurt you. This won’t take long.”

Their most outstanding feature is their solid black eyes, eyes completely void of color or light, showing no pupils, no irises. Witnesses say looking into these eyes evokes intense feelings of terror.

Could they be wearing black contact lenses? Weatherly agrees that this may be true in some cases; however, black lenses covering the entire surface of the eye would not only be expensive, but extremely uncomfortable.

These strange Black Eyed Children, who can appear or vanish at a moment’s notice, seem to be between the ages of 8 and 16. Their skin is pale or pasty colored, described by some as looking plastic or artificial, and their mannerisms are odd. Witnesses describe their clothing as odd and drab – blue jeans and a hoodie or very old-fashioned, handmade clothing. Bizarre electrical phenomena occurs when they are around, such as a garage door inexplicably opening.

* When a man in Dallas arrived home, he saw a boy at his door who repeated “I think it’s food time. You should invite me inside.” The man’s protective pit bull came running toward the front door, but as it got closer to the boy, it whimpered and ran away, hiding under the bed for days afterward.

* A man named Paul was home alone when someone knocked on this door. He opened it and saw two kids about 10 years old standing on his steps with their heads down. They said, “Hey, we just thought we’d stop in for a bit.” The kids insisted they be let into the house. Thinking they had the wrong house, Paul stepped forward to get a better look and made eye contact. Their eyes were solid black, including the sclera.

Jason Offutt, another researcher into the Black Eyed Children phenomenon, gives this account:

* Around 10:45 on a warm night, as 18-year-old Carris Holdsworth approached her apartment in Lisburn, Northern Ireland, she saw two teenagers in hoodies and jeans standing in her yard with their backs to her. As she attempted to slip away unseen, she fumbled in her purse for pepper spray. At that very moment, the boys turned to face her and, as if reading her mind, one said, “No need for that, we just want to borrow your phone, miss.” When she caught a glimpse of their pitch black eyes, not a trace of white or a pupil, she panicked and raced to her apartment, locking the door behind her. The boys following close behind, knocked on her door. She ignored it. After a second knock, fearing for her safety she phoned a friend to come over. When the friend arrived, the boys ran away.

What exactly is this growing phenomena? Who are these sinister appearing black-eyed children? Are they inter-dimensional beings who feed off the energy of fear they create. Are they be alien-human hybrids. Are they demonic entities? Are they simply a modern urban legend born of the computer age?

Weatherly believes they may have some sort of demonic origin because in some reports these black-eyed children vanish into thin air, and some witnesses report a run of bad luck after an encounter with these children.

16 Terrifying Encounters With ‘The Black Eyed Kids’

1. Midnight caller.

It almost felt like a dream. I woke up to my dog, Lucy, barking. She was upright on the bed where my husband and I were sleeping with our 22 month old daughter, staring at our door like an unknown stranger was out there rummaging around. I thought she was just freaking out over a house noise. We’d only had her for 3 months and she was still a puppy. It could have been anything- our roommate, a creak from the house settling, the awnings moving outside in the breeze- I wasn’t too concerned initially.

I decided the best bet would be to open the door and show her nothing was there. It sounds a bit silly, but it’s what we do with our daughter when she gets scared, and I figured it should work with a puppy, too. I opened the door and she raced to the front door. She stood there, snarling at the door. It was an angry, violent growl, one I had never heard her make before. I looked groggily at her and opened the baby gate blocking the doorway, planning to open the door and show her everything was OK.

The second my hand reached for the deadbolt, Lucy went wild. She started barking and jumped toward me, and when I touched the metal, she suddenly changed her temper. She whimpered, almost like she was afraid and backing down. As her mannerism changed, so did mine- I wasn’t calm anymore. My heart was racing and sinking at the same time. I had been flooded with a mixture of fear and dread. I looked through the peephole. I can’t explain why I looked, but I did. Outside were two kids.

One was just a smidgen shorter than me, and didn’t look much younger. I’m 21, and she looked to be 16 or 17. She was slender and pale. Her hair was a light shade of honey blonde, and she wore it long, about mid-back, with long, thin, blunt bangs in the front that covered most of her eyes. She wore jeans, a light-wash that’s popular right now, and a thin-looking olive colored pullover style hoodie. She held the hand of a small girl, who looked to be around 3 or 4, in the same style jeans and a button-down ivory cardigan. The smaller one looked at the floor shyly, but had the same shade of hair, tied back in a ponytail. She held a stuffed toy under her free arm, and it was identical to one my daughter has- as was their style of dress. Had it not been for the feeling of overwhelming dread and fear, I probably would have asked these children in and given them some tea or hot chocolate to get them out of the bitter cold. Something about them seemed off. At this point, I hadn’t made any noise- I hadn’t shushed the dog or grumbled, nothing- I hadn’t turned on any lights, these kids had no indicators I was at the door. The older one spoke.

She had a voice that was mature, confidant, strong, and accentless. She held her head tilted downward, and I couldn’t see her eyes. She said “We have to use your phone.” I stood frozen in fear. How did she know I was there? She raised her head to face me directly, and that was when I saw her eyes. There was a reason I couldn’t see them through her bangs before- they were black, or midnight blue, or a dark, dark purple- they were otherworldly. she said. “Our mother is worried.”

As someone who has always been interested in creepy stories, I knew what she was the second she looked at me through the door. I have never been one to believe in these things- as a staunch Atheist and skeptic when it comes to the paranormal, I had written off many a ghost story from friends and family members eager to tell their tale. I didn’t believe it. Still, I couldn’t rationalize my way out of this- I was standing with nothing but a thin wooden door between me and a Black Eyed Kid. There was no questioning what was right in front of me.

I did not answer her. Slowly and silently, I backed away from the door, Lucy still cowering at my ankles. She kept talking. “Just let us in to use your phone.” I took another step back, and with that step, the tone changed. At first, she seemed polite. When I took that second step back, she became commanding, almost hostile. We’re not going to hurt you. If we wanted to do that, we would have broken in. I’ll ask again. May we come in and use your phone?” Lucy snarled at the door, and I inched backward, though something inside me seemed to be slowly pulling me back toward the door. It wasn’t a physical pulling so much as a subconcious need to go back and let them in.

I got to my room, covered up the window, locked the door, and sat there in the dim light of the nightlight. I heard her call me back to the door once more, and then quiet. I didn’t go back to sleep that night, and I haven’t slept right since. I know from reading about them that BEK’s can’t just come in without permission. I know they haven’t hurt anyone, but I still fear I’ll be the exception. When I told my husband, he said it was just a dream. He keeps telling me to forget it, but this lingering feeling of sadness, this dread when the house is silent at night, this fear of a knock at the door… this tells me otherwise.

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2. Bus encounter.

I was riding the bus back home after work, it was about 1 am, I’m a security guard and often work odd hours. So I’mm sitting there, and this guy gets on, sits across from me. He was wearing a suit, had a briefcase, regular looking guy in his 20s. What struck me about him at first was that he was chewing a cigar, not smoking it, you can’t smoke on the bus. So I was just looking at him while he stared out the window and chewed his cigar, and all of a sudden he turned and looked at me. His eyes were pitch black, just as you described.

My heart started beating like a mad motherfucker, and I felt my gorge rising. I was starting to panic and I had no idea why, I was just pants-shittingly terrified of this guy. Then he grinned at me, and his teeth were all covered in tobacco bits and brown juice, the cigar clamped between them. I almost screamed, but instead I had the presence of mind to just get up and take the seat right behind the driver. I calmed down a bit after that, but I kept an eye on the guy. He ended up chatting with some girl that got on, and they were still talking when I got off. I later convinced myself he was just trolling me, having fun with a pair of contacts… now I wonder.

3. Halloween.

This is so funny, I’d never heard of BEK’s before my incident so I come on here to post my story and the first story I see is about a BEK. Weird.

Let me preface this by saying I’m by no means a writer, just a “domestic engineer” living in north Texas. Also, I don’t believe in the paranormal – ghosts, demons, aliens, whatever. However, I did have an event happen to me this Halloween I have to admit has me scratching my head.

This is my first post on Reddit, and sorry to say I’d never even heard about it until yesterday. I told my best friend about my incident and she’s an avid reader of nosleep and she told me if I didn’t post it, she would – so here I am. Anyway, hope you like.

So, it had been a slow trick-or-treat night in our neighborhood that evening, which is pretty odd in itself. We usually have kids from different areas “dropped off” in ours and have a constant parade at our door. That night I’d say we’d had no more than 8 or 10 groups of kids come by the entire night. It was about 9:30pm and my husband and I were sitting in our family room watching some of those ghost shows based on (supposedly) actual events. Like I said, I don’t believe in that stuff but I do like a good ghost story now and then and it was Halloween and all.

We hadn’t had any activity at the door in over half an hour and it was getting late so we decided to turn the porch light of and let our dog Chloe out of her crate. Chloe is an American Bulldog and is very docile. We only put her in her crate because we were afraid she’d try and get out to “play” with all the kids and I didn’t want to have to chase after her down the street. Also, we didn’t want her to scare any of the kids because she would look a little intimidating to the younger kids.

So, I turned the outside light off let Chloe out and she followed me back to the couch and lay down at my feet. It was getting close to 10:00pm when my husband decided he’d had enough fun for the night and was going to go upstairs, take a shower and get ready for bed. After all, it was Thursday and he still had to get up early the next day. My teenaged son was out with his friends at a local haunted house and wasn’t expected back for another hour or so, so that left me alone on the couch with Chloe.

Now, just because I don’t believe doesn’t mean those shows don’t freak me out a bit, and being alone now watching I’d have to say was kind of “on edge”, as it were. It wasn’t long after I heard the upstairs water for the shower turn on when there came a light “knock – knock – knock” at the front door. My initial reaction was “what the hell, really? It’s almost 10:00 go home…” but soon an uneasy feeling came over me. Why the knock? Our doorbell glows and in the dark and without the porch light it would be extra obvious to anyone there.

I paused. I couldn’t really just ignore it, our front door has a big beveled glass panel and anybody right at the door could see in enough to see someone was in the family room watching TV. It would be pretty rude for me to just sit there and not answer it. “Knock – knock – knock”, again from the door. I glance down at Chloe and she was gone. My gazed followed her usual path to the front door expecting her to be on her way there as she normally does. Nothing, she wasn’t there.

I stood up to look around the room better and found her, crouching by the back door like she was wanting out. However, she never asks to go out like that. She always comes and licks my hand or puts her head on my knee. This was totally out of character for her, and I have to say heightened my anxiety. “Chloe, crate!” I said. She just turned back to look at me like “hell no lady, ain’t movin..”

I yelled up to my husband, but if he was already in the shower I knew there was no chance of him hearing me. “Knock – knock – knock.” About that time a car drove down our street and cast just enough light on the door to where I could see the silhouettes of two small children thru the glass. I instantly felt relief. It was just some kids, probably a couple of my neighbors on their way back home that wanted to stop by and show me their costume or something. I headed to the door and looked back to make sure Chloe wasn’t going to follow, what a great watchdog I thought to myself as she just sat there.

I turned on the porch light when I got to the door and sure enough, I could see thru the glass that it was a couple of pretty small kids. A little late for such young ones I thought and I began to wonder about what kind of parents would let their kids run the streets that late at night. I only opened the door enough to where I could block Chloe’s escape if she decided to grow some balls, which was only about two feet. What struck me immediately as odd was the kids weren’t wearing any costumes; they were in normal street clothes. Also, no customary “Trick-or-treat!” either. I began to feel very uneasy again.
It was a girl and boy. The girl, to my left, was older – I’d say about 11 or 12. I could tell she was blond, but I couldn’t make out any distinct features as our lights are from high above and on columns at the front of the porch so most of the light was coming from behind them. I had not opened the door wide enough for any light from inside to hit them directly. The boy was younger and about a foot shorter, I’d say 8 or 9 and looked to have light brown hair.

The girl very politely spoke up, “Ma’am, can we please come inside and use your phone to call our mom?” As she spoke something in the pit of my stomach was telling me something was wrong. What kid, even at that age doesn’t have a cell phone of their own these days? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had anybody asked to use my home phone. “Um… hun, don’t you have a phone of your own you can call your mom on?” I asked. This was things really got weird. Both kids turned to look at one another like they were going to say something to one another, but neither ever spoke. They both turned back to me and the girl said, “Ma’am, my cell phone battery doesn’t have any charge left in it. Can we please come inside and call our mother. We’re alone out here and my brother is scared.”

I have to admit there were two competing feelings going on inside me. The first, that of a mother’s heart that wanted to help these two small children get to their mom. The other, a sinking fear in my gut that was keeping the other feeling at bay. It was then I noticed that during the short conversation I’d already opened the door a few extra inches which I was completely unaware of doing. I stopped. “Honey, why don’t you give me your mother’s number and I can call her myself.” Another pause and they again looked at one another. After a short moment, they turned back to me and the girl said, “Ma’am, my little brother has to use your bathroom. Can we please come inside while you call our mom?” And with that last statement the little girl moved closer toward the door like she was going just walk on in by me.

As she did, she stepped into the light coming from inside the house and I got my first real good look at her. Solid, jet black eyes – that’s all I could see. That motherly instinct was gone and replaced by terror I don’t think I’ve ever felt in my life. I could feel every hair on my arms and back of my neck standing at attention. I closed the door to where just my face was able to stick out. The little girl stopped and again pleaded, “Please Ma’am we’re really scared and alone out here. We HAVE to come inside. Please help us!” Then, like on cue, both kids began to whimper and cry.

That’s when the fear took over and I shut and locked the door. “I’ll call your mom if you give me the number,” I shouted thru the door, “but I’m not letting you in my house!” I could still see them stand there on the porch, just staring at me thru the beveled glass pane. Part of me wanted to run upstairs to my husband, but the bigger part didn’t want to lose track of where they were. That would have freaked me out even more to not know where they were.

After what seemed like forever, but probably only a few seconds, I decided I’d call my neighbor that lives across the street. As I made my way to the side table by our couch to my phone, I glanced at the back door – Chloe was nowhere to be found. We later found her in the guest room under the bed. When I got to my phone and started to look for his contact info, it was only then the kids stepped away from the door and began to walk to the street.

As they did I walked to the door to get a better look to see where they went, still not calling my neighbor. If you get close enough to the glass you can see out enough to make out peoples shapes, but you can see much detail. Of course, standing that close to the door would make you pretty obvious to anyone outside looking in. From the door, I could see that the kids were still standing under the streetlamp nearest my house, staring at me. As I lifted the phone to my ear after calling, only then did the kids start walking down our street. I met my neighbor out under the lamp once he was out there, but the kids were nowhere to be seen.

Like I said, I don’t believe in any of this stuff and had never even heard about black eyed kids before talking to my friend. What I really think (what I have to think) is these kids were just out yanking people’s chains on Halloween night. But I will say this for them, they were good. Really good at it. They scared the s out of me AND my dog!

4. “You must let me in.”

On March 17, 2008 I had my one and only encounter with a black eyed kid. Before my experience i had never heard of anything having to do with the black eyed kids. I was 12. I was sitting outside of a hairdressers in a old Chevy pickup waiting for my mom to get her hair cut. About 15 minutes had passed and I saw some kid walking back and forth along the sidewalk in front of my parked car. At first I thought I recognized him as one of my friends from school so i banged on the front windshield until he looked my way. It was not anyone i knew. At this point I was not scared at all. Not yet. The boy walked over to the side of my care and just stares. I think to let me get a good look at his eyes. To freak me out. Let me tell you.. If you have never seen a black eyed kid.. you have no idea what to imagine. Pupils black as the night sky. The boy whispers “You must let me in” and then i locked the car doors and ducked down into the space below the seats. Five minutes later he was gone. When my mother got into the car she told me a boy with black eyes had came into the hairdressers had insisted for my mother to give him the keys to the car. She refused……thank God she did.

5. They just stared.

This one time (early 2010) I was walking home from work & found myself escorting a young lady to her car. She asked me to escort her &, hoping I’d talk her into a drink or two (I had already had a few myself), I’d get a number or (possibly) get laid that night. I’m not going to lie, she was kinda hot.
No shit though, she looked scared.

I kept walking with her & was trying to at least coax out of her what she was so worried about. She would only comment about some really “creepy looking kids” who were following her. Being we were in the Downtown Seattle area, this could amount to anything.

So we kept walking & talking, I kept looking behind us to see if the little fuckers were in tow (nothing popped up out of the ordinary). Then she grabs my arm really hard & whispered “That’s them”. They were about 1/2 a block in front of us just standing there & looking at her.

So I do the prudent thing to do, which was cross the street. I make sure I lock eyes with the big one & I keep in mind once I get the lady to her car that I’d give them an ear full about being a coupled little shits for scaring a lone woman in a metropolitan area.
I didn’t get scared or anything but did notice something strange: they didn’t break eye contact with me.

Mind you, I don’t look like the kind of guy you want to fuck with. Honestly, it’s an unconscious front since I’m a bit shy. My “look” reminds people of either a Skin Head or Club Bouncer. The Black Tanker Boots & Van Dike mixed with the above don’t make me look like a people person either. People break eye contact with me constantly… these two kids didn’t. That was a Red Flag for me.

I finally got this woman to her car. She said thanks, I made sure to tell her where the local police station is at (The Seattle PD West Precinct was only about 5 blocks from where we were at.

6. Trick or treat?

This really freaked me out… Yesterday I noticed my neighbor hadn’t put out all his Halloween decorations/lights/etc. The past two years I’ve lived next to him he’s gone all out for Halloween. I don’t know him well, he’s younger, single, but I know he likes kids (not in a creepy way). His brother and sister-in-law and their kids are always visiting him and he plays with his three young nieces and nephews out in the yard. So anyway, I got home from work and was walking up my driveway and I saw him outside and said something like “Hey man, you better get your Halloween stuff up or that house up the street is going to beat you for best decorations.” He kind of smiles sheepishly and says that he’s actually going to keep his house dark this year and just put candy out. I asked if he was going out of town, but he said no, something happened last year that really scared him.

Now I was concerned for my own safety if some weirdos were coming around our neighborhood (which is a pretty safe neighborhood with tons of young families living here), so I asked him what happened. He said last year he had his brother’s family over so they could trick-or-treat in the neighborhood since they live in an apartment complex that doesn’t do much for Halloween. He had a bunch of kids come to the door like always. His family took off around 10:30 and there were only a few older trick-or-treaters, but by 11:30 they were pretty much done. So he was inside, watching TV and the doorbell rings. He grabs the candy bowl and heads over, noticing that it’s a little past midnight and that’s pretty rude for trick-or-treaters to still be out, but then notices he hasn’t turned off all his decoration lights yet, so his house is still a beacon. He swings the door open and is about to yell “BOO!” or something to freak them out, but stops dead when he sees the kids at the door.

He said one was probably around 13-14 and the other around 16-17 (both boys). They weren’t dressed up, but he remembers the older one was wearing a flannel checkered shirt. He was immediately overcome with uneasiness, like opening the door was a huge mistake. They just stared at him and he noticed they had really big irises and dilated pupils. He couldn’t even see the whites of their eyes, so he figured they were contact lenses. He was frozen there holding the candy bowl, like he couldn’t slam the door in their face as much as he wanted to. So he nervously tried to smile at them hoping they would “break character” and ask for candy or something. The younger one said they had gotten lost and needed to come in and use his phone. That was when he closed the door more than halfway on them and said “No, sorry” and the older one said something like “Can we just wait in your house until our parents come get us?” but by then he was convinced that his life was in danger and these kids must be high on something or intending to rob him and he just kept mumbling “No, sorry, goodnight” as he inched the door closed and locked it.

He told me he was so fucking scared at that point that they were going to try to break in through one of his windows or something, but he looked through the peephole and they had turned to leave. He watched TV with the volume really low so he could hear any sounds at all and he said he stayed up till like 5 am because he was too scared to go to bed and drop his guard. The whole time he’s telling me this I’m thinking oh my god, this sounds so familiar, just like the Black-eyed kids urban legend. Then I thought hey, maybe this dude is trying to scare me because after all, he does have the Halloween spirit…so I’m looking at him incredulously but trying not to seem too gullible. So I’m like “Man, that is really crazy, sounds like the Black-eye kids.” He just looks at me blankly, “The what, is that a movie or something?” and I said no, but told him to go look it up online.

Like an hour later I get a knock on my door (and admittedly, almost jump out of my skin thinking it’s a demon child). It was my neighbor and his eyes were freaking huge. He swears to me up and down that he had never heard of the BEKs before and it’s so similar to what happened to him. So we talked awhile longer and I told him that quite a few people probably know about that urban legend and it’s possible it was just teenagers with black scleral contacts trying to freak people out on Halloween (which would be genius, by the way). But he said the fear he felt was so primal and came over him the second he opened the door for them.

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7. Every story I’ve read about them is from someone who already knew about them.

Last night was like any other night, I was switching between listening to music and watching youtube videos with one headphone in so I can hear my infant daughter if she cries, that way my wife can get a full nights sleep (she works at 4am at the hospital every day). When I decide to go lay down in the spare bed in the babies room..

Just as I dosed off I heard a thumping coming from the front porch, startled at first I open my eyes wide and scan the room. Realizing it was most likely my cat scratching himself on the front porch I dose back off. Then again, the thumping. “Damn cat” I got out of bed to run him off the porch only to see he wasn’t there any more, now that I was up again I wasn’t the least bit tired. I figured I’ll just get some tea and check Facebook while I’m up, maybe finish the web series I was watching on youtube..

a few minutes into the video I felt the sudden urge to look up at the kitchen window, there they were..

the tops of two short statured peoples heads cresting the stairs just above my window frame. The people were just short enough to not see in the window but I could see out. I heard no footsteps on my porch as my stomach turned.. but the knock, the knock was a steady hollow thump. The very same thump I had just blamed on my cat. Deciding it was best not to answer I shut my laptop and crept by the door back to the babies room..

I assumed it was some of the people from the low income housing across the road from me that were high or hiding from the cops or maybe looking for my cousin who stays with me often and has many friends over there. The last thing I needed was to try to explain to two stoners that I was trying to sleep even though it was 2am.

It wasn’t until I got to my daughters room that the creepiness set in. The thump had moved from the kitchen to the bedroom windows.. both windows, a room apart thumping in perfect time. These stoners were going to wake up my daughter if I didn’t run them off now. Pissed off I went out to the kitchen, unlocked and opened the door ready to run around to the side of the house and kick some little idiots ass.

It happened then, standing there looking up at me were two 10 or 11 year old boys. The feeling of dread and the smell of mold almost made me vomit.. the smaller of the two then spoke “May we use your telegraph?” Huh? I just stared blankly at these boys, horrified of what I then realized.. their eyes were pitch black. He asked again to use my “telegraph”.

There wasn’t a sound to be heard no crickets chirping, no dogs barking, no cars driving by.. nothing. I tried to play it cool and ignore the fact that he didn’t say telephone, or phone, or cell.. anything that would have made any sense of the situation and calmly replied “I don’t have service at my house sorry.” The expressions on their faces turned to rage as I finished my sentence. Swiftly I shut the door and locked it as quickly as I could, then stumbled back to protect my daughter. I picked her up from her crib and held her close, the fact that she didn’t wake up freaked me out the most but I managed to gather my senses enough to make sure she was still breathing and warm.. everything seemed okay with her.

The thumping on the windows was back, I dropped to the floor as close to the wall as I could and held my little girl in my arms and wept like a child.. I felt helpless and afraid. I lied there for what felt like hours and hours crying and shaking until I heard it, my wifes alarm clock. The thumping stopped the instant the alarm went off and I crept into the master bedroom with the baby. “Whats wrong with you?” My wife asked… “I just had a bad dream” Is all I could mutter out. “okay well give me the baby so I can feed her before work.” I handed my wife the baby and she fed her like any normal day.. I turned on every light in the house and made coffee for her. For some reason just having her awake calmed my nerves enough to pretend like nothing happened.. I walked her out to the car nervously with the baby in my arms.. I asked her not to leave until I walked back in the house. She was put off by the request but did so to humor me. Once I was safely in the house I locked the door again.. and in the house I sat horrified until she got home. I insisted we go to the next town over and stay the weekend at my brothers house… and here I sit horrified while she sleeps in the guest room with my daughter. Wondering why they stopped when the alarm went off.. I think I know the answer. I was aware of BEKs she wasn’t. Every story I’ve read about them is from someone who already knew about them. Maybe, Just maybe knowledge of them existing is the only reason they visit..

I’m afraid and I’m sorry.

8. “No. You won’t be calling anybody.”

The incident took place about 13 years ago. I had just moved to a new city with my wife. We were small town newlyweds from the Midwest. We moved cross country to one of the biggest city’s in the Southwest so I could attend graduate school. Being naive and new to city living, I habitually answered the door without a second thought. Never again after this.

The first thing that should have tipped me off to the peculiarity of this situation was the fact that someone was knocking at 6:00 in the morning. The second thing that should have dawned on me is this kid had to reach over a rather tall patio gate to unlatch and open it.

The knock at the door was startling. My wife and I were getting ready for work, a pretty normal routine. The moment I opened the door, I was overtaken with an inexplicable sense of fear. To this day, I can picture him. Teenager, average height, average build, knee length black leather coat, short black hair and sunglasses. The sunglasses at 6:00 a.m. struck me as odd and even more odd, he was eating an apple. He was very polite and asked if he could come in and warm up. I said, “No”, closed the door and slid the security chain in to place. A moment later, another knock. I opened the now chained door, and before I could speak he asked again if he could come in and warm up. “NO!” I reply and attempted to close the door. Before the door could shut, he put his hand out stopping the door on its hinges. He looked directly in to my eyes, still wearing his sunglasses, and said, “Can I at least get some ketchup for my apple?”. “Fuck that!” I reply, albeit a little confused. “Get the hell outta here! My wife is calling the police!”. He takes a moment to let this information sink in, lowers his glasses, revealing eyes as black as obsidian and says, “No. You won’t be calling anybody.”. At that moment I force the door closed, lock it, and call out to my wife, she is scared shitless hiding in the bedroom. All jacked up on adrenalin, I rip the curtains back to look out the window next to the door. He’s gone. Absolutely no trace of him. I go out on the patio and check the gate, it’s still latched from the inside. That was fucked up, I think to myself and as I turn to enter the house I notice a half eaten apple lying on the ground.

9. I was having a visceral experience all over my body.

I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t know about Black Eyed Kids before this happened to me, late summer last year. I definitely did. Now, in the moment, that idea never crossed my mind. But afterward? Hell yes. And the thought lead to all kinds of regret I realize is stupid, but I am getting ahead of myself.

Let me tell you about my neighborhood. I live in a poor part of town. A bit ghetto, a bit of the barrio, a bit of the lower economic class of a cross-section of races. It’s L.A. The apartment complex spans a short block, it’s dusty brown like the desert we live in. It’s got two pools, lots of little Mexican children and, for the most part, a pretty friendly population.

I am a destitute writer trying to make it in Hollywood, so I spend my free time writing. When this happened I was working mostly in the mornings and afternoons. I would get home, hit the gym and then settle in for an evening in front of the computer.

It’s pretty common for the evenings in the summer to be chaotic around our apartment complex. Kids playing in the pool, the ice-cream man pushing his cart up and down the sidewalk, women talking outside the laundry-room (hey, I do my own laundry, but I am pretty much the only guy I see here doing it). You know. Nice. Low-income but pleasant. Like a mixed-race 21st Century version of a Fifties Sitcom.

And people will knock on your door. Sometimes to borrow something. I cook, so neighbors pop by to find out the origins of the great aromas wafting from my kitchen window.

Sometimes for a little help working on a broken-down car. But mostly it’s kids selling candy bars or Christmas wrapping paper. Or jittery tweakers selling magazine subscriptions. Or old Mexican men selling bootleg DVD’s. LOTS of Jehovah’s Witnesses.
Because it’s hot out I leave my windows open (A.C. Isn’t cheap and I’ve got no money, remember?) hoping for the cross breeze. That means, though I can’t see anyone from where I sit and work, I can hear them very clearly as they walk up to my door.

When I hear someone knock, I answer it. Besides buying the occasional candy bar, I smile, politely decline, wish them a nice day and send them off. No big deal.

That evening it was quiet. Which was strange in and of itself. I should at least have been able to hear the distant sound of Ranchero music. I heard a couple of people walk up to my door. I am not the first apartment in my courtyard, so usually I hear the salespeople as they knock on my neighbors doors and work their way around to me. Not this time. Whoever it was walked right up to my door and knocked.

I got up to answer it, reaching for the door handle when a chill went through my body like I have never experienced. A cold tightness in my chest. I halted my hand movement towards the door handle and placed it flat on the door as if I was feeling for heat from a fire.
I have a peephole on my door, but it never crossed my mind to use it. I stood there with my hand flat on the door and listened. They knocked again.

I don’t scare easy. And I wasn’t exactly afraid, but I was having a visceral experience all over my body. A base, fear reaction. Just like I could hear them, they had heard me move to the door. They knew I was inside.

“Yes?” I said, “Who is it?” A boy’s voice answered. “We need to use your phone.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” I started laughing. I stress laugh, when I am in pain or under pressure. They heard me laughing. And neither of us moved for about a minute or two. A really, really, long minute or two.

Finally they walked away. Not to any of the other of the eight doorways within fifteen feet. Not to ask anyone else. Before they could have gone more than a dozen yards, curiosity reasserted itself and I yanked the door open, running after them to see who it was and where they were headed. The courtyard of my complex was completely empty.

Afterwards, I thought the experience fit the stories about Black Eyed Kids and I kicked myself for not opening the door. Coming face-to-face with Black Eyed Kids? How cool would that have been? But then I remember that feeling, my skin crawling and the certain knowledge in me at that moment, there was no way in hell I was opening that door at the time.

10. He told me to never agree to help them.

It was a cold October evening, not too far off from Halloween. I remember sitting in my room, playing the original suikoden. The evening was slowly creeping by so I decided to go to the corner store. It was only 3 blocks, shouldn’t be much trouble right.
During my walk I see the normal. The occasional person putting up Halloween decorations and kids playing in their yards, but this story is about something far more sinister. I remember seeing two teens about age 14, knocking on a door asking to use the phone, which of course I thought was weird because most teens these days have phones. As I kept walking, they stopped and stared at me for a short moment. I felt the blood in veins chill. I felt so creeped out I hurried to the next block. The next block seemed fine, until I looked behind me and saw the two teens were following me. I took off sprinting to the store at this point.

I saw the sign for the store, and relief washed over me. I opened the door, and I told the cashier about what happened on the way here. He looked at me slightly creeped out, and told me a story about this happening to him in his hometown and how they found him the day he left, and asked for his help, in an emotionless voice, and he told me to never agree to help.

He told me another story, but at that point I was no longer paying attention because they were standing at the door asking to be let in. The cashier freaked out, and locked the door.

The teens never seem to waver or leave. They wouldn’t step away from the door. It had been an hour. The cashier and I were ready to fight our way out, but instead he took me out the back. The one teen came around the back just as the door shut behind us.

Can you help me is all he could say. He was closing in on us, and his eyes. They were black as a starless night. They were peering right into my soul. I couldn’t help but gaze into his eyes. The terror, I can’t remember too much of what happened next, but I do recall the sounds of struggle.

When I came too, the cashier was struggling with both teens. He was calling out to me for help. I ran towards them, grabbed him by his collar and pulled him between the two, and knocking them over in the process. I didn’t look back until I was near my house, the cashier was gone but the teens were still following behind. I ran into my house, closed all the blinds, and turned the music up.

I got lucky that day, but I’m not sure how long I can keep out of there grasp. I tried to find and thank the cashier for saving my life that day, but he didn’t show up to work after that. I asked his boss, and he told me he called over the phone and quit. He said he was moving.

To this very day I sometimes feel the fear of those eyes watching me as I drive to work. I sometimes will look out my window and swear I see them watching my house from a couple blocks away. Waiting for their next chance.

black-eyed-child-3

11. Survival story.

I helped them once. never, ever, under any circumstance do it. im not sure what they do but it feels as if they are ripping your soul out, they get really close to you, and you get amazingly drowsy, if it werent for my girlfriend showong up mid-”invasion” and kicking them out i probably would be dead. i didnt even see the black eyes until i had let them in, they’re getting smarter.

12. Black eyed grandparents?

Bit of scene setting. In 96/97 I lived in a fairly old terraced house with a cemetary at the end of the road – cliche I know but it’s an important detail – nothing remarkable about the house or the area it was just convenient for college.

Anyway I was up late one night on the PC in my bedroom which looked out onto the street. Was about 2 or 3 am. For whatever reason, probably to give my eyes a rest, I wandered over to the window and looked down the road in the direction of the cemetary (although it was too far down the street for me to see) and I saw 3 people walking slowly down the road.
I could see that they were quite old and appeared to be dressed in funeral clothes which given the hour was weird. There were 2 women and a man, I’d put their ages at about 80 and the woman in the middle was being steadied/guided by the other woman and the man and as they came closer I got the impression that she was upset. My first thought was that given their age she had recently buried her husband and grief had caused her to behave slightly irrationally causing her to try to be out near the cemetary at that hour and that the other 2 were friends/relatives trying to look after her and get her home. Anyway it was all interesting enough for me to carry on watching as they got closer to the house.
Just outside the front of the house was a street lamp, I watched them as they made their way past but when they got to the lamp-post they all stopped and the upset woman in the middle looked up at me and grinned.

This was when things got weird – the grin became a sort of grimace and if there was any colour in her face to start with it was now dead white. At that point I realised I was staring right into her eyes, but her eyes were pitch black. Time sort of dilated. If you’ve ever crashed a car the final split second before you make impact seems to drag out as you process more information than normal in the timeframe, it was that sort of thing. I’m sure we only made eye contact for a second but it felt like several minutes as my peripheral vision faded and I felt like all I could see was these 2 black holes in her face drawing me in – although the distance between us didn’t change she somehow felt like she was coming closer and I was kind of aware although I couldn’t honestly say I could see them at that point that the 2 people with her were just continuing to look down the road as if frozen but waiting for this woman to finish whatever she was doing.

I was suddenly hit with this intense feeling of dread and panic so I threw myself on the floor. As soon as I’d broken her gaze I felt pretty stupid that this upset old woman who clearly needed help had spooked me so badly so I looked out the window again and there was no sign of them. It was a longish straight road and the house was towards the middle so Linford Christie would have had trouble getting out of sight in the time I looked away let alone 3 octagenarians.

13. They’re on my balcony.

Let me tell you a little about myself. I’m in my early twenties, I just moved into this apartment and I tend to live a very private life. I don’t even have a Facebook account. I work during the day at a grocery store. Ok. So, I’m walking up my flight of steps to get to my apartment and I hear these kids laughing and then I heard whispering.

It was kind of late so I thought this was weird but I ignored it and walked into my apartment(i live on the third floor). I was getting ready to open my balcony door, it was really muggy in my apartment. I walk over to the door and pull my blinds and two kids are fucking staring back at me(sorry for the F bomb, but i’m still shaking). I screamed and backed away smashing my leg into the in table. They were both in blue jeans, and the oldest(he was taller)had on a green shirt with white stripes and the younger had on a button up light blue shirt. The oldest one touched the sliding door, ”Hey miss, can you let us in?” The younger one just kept looking around, I still just stared at them. I finally was able to say, ”How’d you get on my balcony?” I walked to the door and noticed how excited the older one got he moved closer to the entrance, ”Can you let us in?” I wasn’t thinking I unlocked the door and when I looked up, their eyes, you guys their eyes were black. The entire eye. I quick locked the door and told them I had to call the police because my door was jammed and I couldn’t unlock the door. so I called the police, the oldest boy pleaded with me the entire time to let them in.

The police arrived about an hour ago, they came in and walked to the balcony. When they opened my balcony door nothing was there, they looked down and saw Two children they were running in the parking lot away from the building. The police took a report and said they had to of had help getting up there, and that they would question the neighbors. I’m freaking out, I’m crying i don’t want to stay here but then again I don’t feel safe going outside right now.

14. Soon.

I live in a big city in south bc, and its 11:52 here as i type this. I had just got home from the conjuring, scary shit im tellin ya. I was lurking on /r/creepy and heard a knock on the door. I walked over confused because i live alone and im a recluse. As i approached the door i felt pure terror. The feeling you get when you feel like death is imminent or your facing your biggest fear. When i opened the door i was shaking madly, i was staring into the face of a 6’3 teenage girl. She was still 4″ shorter than me but i felt like i was about to faint. She asked if she could “enter the premises” because her mom had left town and she lost her keys. She claimed she needed a couch to sleep on and was cold. I blinked and screamed bloody murder slamming the door in her face. I ran to my room and grabbed my revolver (ya ya ya illegal i know) and sat in the recliner facing the door untill i dozed off. When i woke up i looked outside and she was gone, but the word “soon” was scratched weakly into the door.

15. “Don’t go out at night and always beware the devils.”

Reading the stories, I had always been a skeptic. Stories, alleged first hand experiences, hauntings, possessions…They are all well and good for a quick chill, a cheap thrill, something I read to get my heart rate up. Getting scared can be fun sometimes, as long as you don’t overdo it, just a little something silly to get worked up about.

In my lurking in books and on numerous site on the internet, credible or not, I have come across many a story or account about ghosts, demons, the Jersey Devil, you name it. Recently I have found my way into stories about the BEK, or Black Eyed Kids. No, these children did not get a black eye from a fight…I don’t believe there would be a soul out there with the backbone to try and attack these…Kids.

No, BEK’s are kids, if that was not straightforward enough, usually, from all the accounts I have read, in their teenage years, if they even physically age at all. Their eyes are pitch black. No pupils, no corneas, no white showing at all. Pitch black. They have olive skin, and wear run of the mill clothing, as in hoodies. However, in a non physical sense, they always bring with them an overwhelming sense of fear and dread. They are intriguing, and when approached by them, again from all the accounts I’ve come across, it’s like you are in a slight hypnosis, though you quickly snap out of it when your instincts take over…Usually as you meet their eyes.

Then there are the theories. The theories about what these BEK’s may be. These theories range from lost souls to alien/human hybrids…And even to vampires, though the latter may be an extreme stretch to link the BEK to the current social infatuation of vampires found commonly in young persons.

In light of all this, I have always been a very fact based person. If it’s existent was not apparent, or the existence of the thing in question was not testable and verifiable, to me, it did not exist. However, one night, one long, terrifying night which still haunts me to this very day showed me the proof required to open my eyes and mind.

My story begins when I left my mums house. I had gone over to visit because my father, her husband of 63 years recently passed away, and mum wasn’t taking it too well. I knew she needed support form her loved ones, and I was more than willing to go visit and keep her company, but it was getting late.

My mum lives in the suburbs. Tidy lawns, plenty of neighbors, paved roads, and even though it was near 11 PM when I left, the streets were extremely lit by the streetlights who always had your safety and ease of mind at heart. These lights only lit the road though, and glancing across the street, the houses were cast in an eerie shadow. Even a rather safe, charming little neighborhood can seem spooky and uninviting when cast in shadow. I admit, I was terribly chilled.

Sliding into my car I revved the engine and waved to my mother who was standing in the doorway, wrapped comfortably in a warm shawl. She waved back, her old and fragile arm shaking. I saw her mouth ‘be careful’ and I smiled, backing out of the driveway. I turned out of the neighborhood, deciding to take the back way, the shorter way, home tonight. In hindsight, that might not have been a good idea.

I live a significant ways away, out in the middle of the country in the old farmhouse I grew up in, which my father had left in my name when he and mum had moved out, into a place smaller, more easy to care for and affordable…And social. He, my father, had always told me, growing up “don’t go out at night and always beware the devils.” He was a strong believer in anything and everything paranormal, a very superstitious man, and I always had to resist the urge to laugh at his words, but I knew he meant well.

Driving down the dark country roads, there were no streetlights, and the half assed paved road was cracked and filled with potholes. The fields on either side of the road were empty, just blank stretches of overgrown grass and untended shrubbery. The dark outline of the trees of the woods could be seen looming all the way across the fields on the shadowy horizon, one might have even seen a deer or two once in awhile in those fields, but not tonight. The moon offered little light, as the sky rolled with dark threatening clouds, ready to burst with rain or a storm at any moment.

Sure enough, a few moments later, the low grumble of thunder sounded, heavy and long. However, no rain fell just yet, much to my pleasure. I hate driving at night, and in the rain…And putting those two together would end badly, I just knew it.

Accompanied only by the occasional roll of thunder, I started to feel a bit anxious. I cant explain it, I just felt shaken up, probably because it was night, and it could start raining. Or maybe I had been reading too many ghost stories and legends, and tonight seemed to reflect the mood of the stories I read almost obsessively.

To try and calm myself, I flicked on my old cars radio and turned the old fashioned knob back and forth, slowing down a bit as I attempted to find a station that came in clearly. Nothing doing. Weird. There was a broadcasting tower right near here, it usually came in perfectly, clear as day…

But still, nothing. The white noise and static of the blank stations was doing nothing to appease my anxiety. I gripped the steering wheel tightly as more thunder boomed from the sky. Aggravated, I forcefully shut off the radio, gritting my teeth. Glancing down at the dashboard, I noticed I was nearly out of gas.

Groaning, I search the road for a sign for gas. As I was scanning the side of the road I noticed from the corner of my eye two figures walking on the side of the road, shrouded in shadow. They were walking slowly, one turned around, walking backwards, his or her thumb sticking out. I felt compelled to pull over, give them a ride, and I found my hands turning the wheel slightly, but I pulled back, realizing how stupid it would be of me to accept two random strangers into my car in the middle of the night on a back country road.
I sped up and passed them, trying not to look at them as I did so, though I felt oddly intrigued by them. As I focused on the road ahead, it started drizzling, dropping my mood another level or two. Along with the rain, the thunder seemed louder, closer, as the storm moved in. A few seconds passed until I gave into my compulsion to look at the two figures, and I glanced in my rear view mirror. It seemed as if the two were walking faster, and the one no longer had his thumb out, but it had to be my imagination, how would I be able to tell if they were walking faster or not? It was rainy and dark…

Looking back at the road, I almost missed a sign that alerted me of a gas stop up ahead. A sigh of relief passed my lips and I slowed down, looking for any indication of the stop, pushing the thought of the two figures from my head. Soon I was pulling into the gas station slowly as the rain started to pick up.

The store was closed but luckily they had a 24 hour gas pump service. That was good for me, as if they had not, I’d have run out a few more miles down the road. I shut off my car and hesitantly shuffled out of the metal shell and glanced over my shoulder, still not being able to shake that nervous feeling that had manifested inside me earlier that night. I stood under the light of the overhang, trying to figure out how to work the pump, which seemed so over complicated in the dim light, and with my mind not being able to focus on this simple task.
The rain picked up more, heavier and louder against the concrete of the gas stop as I finally was able to get the pump into my car, forcing my hand to stop it’s shaking. I had a horrible feeling that my shaking wasn’t just because of the bitterly cold night air.
Suddenly, the overhang lights of the gas stop started flickering wildly, a couple going out altogether. It seemed as if the temperature dropped twenty degrees in a few seconds as I glanced around, a sinking feeling starting to blossom in my stomach. As if in slow motion, I turned around, facing back towards the road, the long lonely road and saw what I expected to see there. But even as much as I knew what I’d see, I still felt the drop of my stomach, the colour draining from my face and I breathed a sharp, cold breath forcefully as it almost caught in my throat.

Across the street the two figures were standing, facing me. They started crossing the street slowly but surely and I fumbled with the gas pump. It had only been a few moments, but it seemed as if the gas pump was taking its precious time. I was shaking hard now, as thunder boomed once more, and I looked back up.

The figures were now at the entrance to the gas stop and my breath was quick and shallow, as I blindly shoved the pump back into it’s holder, not being able to tear my eyes away form the figures.

As they drew closer, I became more frantic, even though, now as they walked into the flickering light of the overhang, I saw they were just two teenagers. They looked ragged, and frigid, and soaked form the rain.

I straightened up a bit, still terrified, but another compulsive feeling, similar to the one I experienced in the car was bubbling, and I felt obligated to talk to these two. Though, I insisted to myself to just drive away, not to risk anything.

They were extremely close now, at the next pump when I slid into my car, shaking wildly, and fumbled for my keys, cursing myself as I dropped them on the floor. Leaning down , I swiped them up and sat back up, a cold, sickening feeling as I came face to face with one the teens, who had his hand on my window, knocking slowly, but forcefully. I rolled down the window a bit, just a bit, no bigger than to allow maybe a small child’s hand through. Before I spoke, he spoke first, the other figure standing in the background, still, but I could see something of grin there on her pale face.

“Can you give us a ride into town? We missed the bus and dont have a ride.”

He spoke slow, and something about his voice made me shiver, a cold chill swept down my spine and I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Clearing my throat I glanced at the dashboard, and at the keys in my hand.

“I-I’m sorry, but I’m not going into town.” I stuttered, keeping my eyes down, not at the kids.

However, the teenager knocked harsher, and made me jump a little, as he insisted another time for a ride. I told him no once more, and looked up, trying to seem intimidating, which seems silly, trying to seem intimidating to a child, but a horrible, chilling sight greeted me. I looked the kid right in the eyes, and gasped sharply, my back hitting my seat as I went to back away.

He had eyes, oh he did, but they were blacker than the night, pitch black. No discernible pupils, and no white whatsoever showing, pure black, deep, brooding, and surprisingly intriguing, but my fear got the better of me and I quickly turned the key and my engine revved to life. I thanked God, which I had never, ever done before tonight, my car had not stalled and went to pull away and the kid banged on my window with a pale fist, screaming for a ride.

I took off speedily down the road, apologizing to my father again and again I had laughed at him, never took his warnings seriously. After a few more minutes, I pulled into my driveway and right into my lawn, in front of my porch. I didn’t want to spend any more time outside than I already had and jumped from the car, leaving the car door open, and ran inside, slamming the door and locking it, even going as far as to put a chair in front of the door in case someone, or something tried to get it.

Sinking into the chair in front of the door, I shivered uncontrollably and started to cry, hiding my face in my hands as two dark figures stood at the end of my driveway.

16. What happened to my friend?

So a month ago my friend was talking to me about these creepy ass kids that were hanging around his house. He seemed SCARED like he was about to shit his pants and he doesnt scare easily. He said they always wanted to use his phone and wanted to come in but he always said no. A week ago he told me he was going to let them in and i didnt really give it any attention. But he’s been missing ever since ive gone over to his house but its empty and his cell phone number isnt going through does anyone know what happened to him????? ive heard about BEKs just now and i dont know what they do is he alive????? please help i am seriously freaked the fuck out.

credits: http://www.examiner.com

credits: http://thoughtcatalog.com