This is a fairly recent addition to the urban legends library, kids with pure black eyes, stalking a random person, leaving them terrified.
It’s a phenomenon that is quickly getting more and more validity as each day passes, as new accounts of these mysterious children pop up on internet forums or ghost blogs. Stories of children, always grouped in pairs of 2, their demeanor polite, always asking to come inside to use the telephone. They look no different than any other kids who are in need of help, lost and scared. However, it’s when people notice their completely black eyes that terror sets in, and the kids demeanor changes to become more hostile.
So how did this urban legend start?
The first publicly documented account was by Brian Bethel in 1998:
As so many things do, it all started out innocently.
My Internet Service
Provider used to have offices in a shopping center before they
moved to
their (comparatively) lush accommodations elsewhere. There was a drop box
at that original location. The monthly bill was due, and thus, there but
for the Grace of
the Net I went.
It was about 9:30 p.m. when I left.
From my relatively isolated apartments, it’s about
10-15 minutes or so
to downtown (Abilene has a population of about 110,000).
Right next to
Camalott Communications’ old location is a $1.50 movie theater. At the
time, the place was featuring that masterwork of modern film, Mortal
Kombat. I drove by
the theater on the way into the center proper and
pulled into an empty parking space.
Using the glow of the marquee to
write out my check, I was startled to hear a knock on
the driver’s-side
window of my car.
I looked over and saw two children staring at me from
street. I need to describe them,
with the one feature (you can guess
what it was) that I didn’t realize until about half-way
through the
conversation cleverly omitted.
Both appeared to be in that semi-mystical
stage of life children get into where you can’t
exactly tell their age.
Both were boys, and my initial impression is that they were
somewhere
between 10-14.
Boy No. 1 was the spokesman. Boy No. 2 didn’t speak during
the entire conversation –
at least not in words.
Boy No. 1 was
slightly taller than his companion, wearing a pull-over, hooded shirt with
a sort of gray checked pattern and jeans. I couldn’t see his shoes. His
skin was
olive-colored and had curly, medium-length brown hair. He
exuded an air of quiet
confidence.
Boy No. 2 had pale skin with
a trace of freckles. His primary characteristic seemed to
be looking
around nervously. He was dressed in a similar manner to his companion,
but his pull-over was a light green color. His hair was a sort of pale
orange.
They didn’t appear to be related, at least directly.
“Oh,
great,” I thought. “They’re gonna hit me up for money.” And then the air
changed.
I’ve explained this before, but for the benefit of any new lurkers out there, right before I
experience something strange, there’s
a change in perception that comes about which
I describe in the above
manner. It’s basically enough time to know it’s too late. 
So, there I
was, filling out a check in my car (which was still running) and in a sudden
panic over the appearance of two little boys. I was confused, but an
overwhelming
sense of fear and unearthliness rushed in
nonetheless.
The spokesman smiled, and the sight for some inexplicable reason
chilled my blood. I
could feel fight-or-flight responses kicking in.
Something, I knew instinctually, was not
right, but I didn’t know what
it could possibly be.
I rolled down the window very, very slightly and asked
“Yes?”
The spokesman smiled again, broader this time. His teeth were
very, very white.
“Hey, mister, what’s up? We have a problem,” he said.
His voice was that of a young
man, but his diction, quiet calm and … something I still couldn’t put my finger on … made
my desire to flee
even greater. “You see, my friend and I want to see the films, but we
forgot our money,” he continued. “We need to go to our house to get it.
Want to help us
out?”
Okay. Journalists are required to talk to
lots of people, and that includes children. I’ve
seen and spoken to
lots of them. Here’s how that usually goes:
“Uh … M … M … Mister?
Can I see that camera? I … I won’t break it or anything. I
promise.
My dad has a camera, and he lets me hold it sometimes, I guess, and I took a
picture of my dog — it wasn’s very good, ’cause I got my finger in the way
and …”
Add in some feet shuffling and/or body swaying and you’ve got a
typical kid talking to a
stranger.
In short, they’re usually
apologetic. People generally teach children that when they talk
to
adults, they’re usually bothering them for one reason or another and they should
at
least be polite.
This kid was in no way fitting the mold. His
command of language was incredible and
he showed no signs of fear. He
spoke as if my help was a foregone conclusion. When
he grinned, it was
as if he was trying to say, “I know something … and you’re NOT
gonna
like it. But the only way you’re going to find out what it is will be to do what
I say
…”
“Uh, well …” was the best reply I could
offer.
Now here’s where it starts to get strange.
The quiet companion
looked at the spokesman with a mixture of confusion and guilt on
his
face. He seemed in some ways shocked, not with his friend’s brusque manner but
that I didn’t just immediately open the door.
He eyed me
nervously.
The spokesman seemed a bit perturbed, too. I still was
registering something wrong
with both.
“C’mon, mister,” the
spokesman said again, smooth as silk. Car salesmen could learn
something from this kid. “Now, we just want to go to our house. And we’re
just two little
boys.”
That really scared me. Something in the
tone and diction again sent off alarm bells. My
mind was frantically
trying to process what it was perceiving about the two figures that
was
“wrong.”
“Eh. Um ….” was all I could manage. I felt myself digging my
fingernails into the steering
wheel.
“What movie were you going
to see?” I asked finally.
“Mortal Kombat, of course,” the spokesman said.
The silent one nodded in affirmation,
standing a few paces
behind.
“Oh,” I said. I stole a quick glance at the marquee and at the
clock in my car. Mortal
Kombat had been playing for an hour, the last
showing of the evening.
The silent one looked increasingly nervous. I
think he saw my glances and suspected
that I might be detecting
something was not above-board.
“C’mon, mister. Let us in. We can’t get in
your car until you do, you know,” the
spokesman said soothingly. “Just
let us in, and we’ll be gone before you know it. We’ll
go to our
mother’s house.”
We locked eyes.
To my horror, I realized my hand had
strayed toward the door lock (which was
engaged) and was in the process
of opening it. I pulled it away, probably a bit too
violently. But it
did force me to look away from the children.
I turned back. “Er … Um
…,” I offered weakly and then my mind snapped into sharp
focus.
For the first time, I noticed their eyes.
They were coal
black. No pupil. No iris. Just two staring orbs reflecting the red and
white light of the marquee.
At that point, I know my expression
betrayed me. The silent one had a look of horror on
his face in a
combination that seemed to indicate: A) The impossible had just
happened and B) “We’ve been found out!”
The spokesman, on the other
hand, wore a mask of anger. His eyes glittered brightly in
the
half-light.
“Cmon, mister,” he said. “We won’t hurt you. You have to LET
US IN. We don’t have a
gun …”
That last statement scared the
living hell out of me, because at that point by his tone he
was plainly
saying, “We don’t NEED a gun.”
He noticed my hand shooting down toward
the gear shift. The spokesman’s final words
contained an anger that was
complete and whole, and yet contained in some respects
a tone of
panic:
“WE CAN’T COME IN UNLESS YOU TELL US IT’S OKAY. LET … US ….
IN!”
I ripped the car into reverse (thank goodness no one was coming up
behind me) and
tore out of the parking lot. I noticed the boys in my
peripheral vision, and I stole a quick
glance back.
They were
gone. The sidewalk by the theater was deserted.”
-Paramyst
Suddenly, more and more accounts of these children with completely black eyes started surfacing. They were always in groups of two. One of whom was the spokesperson, and another was the silent, concerned one. They always asked to use a phone, or to be let into the house in some way.
“It freaked me out,” Noetic said.
Noetic works as the weekend computer
engineer from 11:30 p.m. to noon. While he works, he’s in the building alone,
but has never felt uncomfortable until the weekend of July 31, 2010.
“Our
building is pretty secure,” he said. “I have a camera display of our parking
lot, both front and back, as well as the front doors and back which is all
displayed on one of my monitors.”
However, he was outside when he saw the
teens.
“There is a bar and a small plaza directly to the right of our
building, and a small apartment complex across the street,” he said. “So it is
not out of character to see someone walking through our lot going to the bar, or
crossing the street to get to the apartments.”
But it was 5 a.m. As he
stood outside the building and lit a cigarette, the smoke curling into the
morning sky, he saw two teens around 14 to 16 years old standing in the parking
lot of the plaza; the boys immediately frightened him.
“I had a bit of a
unnerving feeling from them because from the moment I walked out from of the
building all they appeared to do was stare me down,” he said. “I am sure this is
a bit normal, five in the morning and a guy suddenly coming out of a quiet,
empty building, perhaps I scared them a bit.”
Noetic stood at the door,
smoking his cigarette, birds beginning to sing as the light of dawn grew around
him.
“I smoked my cigarette while keeping a eye on them,” Noetic said.
“I finished up and went back into the (building).”
Ten minutes later the
intercom buzzed.
“I look over to the monitor and it’s these two kids,” he
said.
Noetic hit the intercom button and asked them what they wanted. One
of the boys looked into the camera and beaconed Noetic to come to the front
door.
“I hit the talk button and tell them I am busy I don’t have time
for games, they need to leave the property,” Noetic said. “Instead they just
sort of hang on right in front of the door.”
Noetic tries to ignore the
boys staring at him from the TV monitor, but he can’t. He goes to the lobby and
looked at the boys through the front glass; the type of glass where people in
the lobby can see out, but people outside can’t see in.
The boys were
dressed like normal teens; shorts, dark hoodies, and tennis shoes.
“The
one thing that set these kids apart from other kids, they had deep, completely
black eyes,” he said. “This really set me back. I felt like as if they actually
were able to see me.”
Noetic pushed open the lobby door, ready to tell
the boys to leave or he would call the police. He never got the
chance.
“One kid looked at me and said almost instantly, ‘That will not
be necessary sir, we simply need to use your phone, can you let us in?’” Noetic
said. “I do not let anyone in.”
When Noetic told the black-eyed teens to
leave, they didn’t behave like normal teens.
“The one talking to me
didn’t like that one bit and went on to tell me, ‘No, you’re going to invite us
in,’” Noetic said. “By this time, the other kid is just giving me this weird
twisted little grin. Something was off. I almost instantly felt this.
‘Threatened’ is the best word I can use.”
The black-eyed teens stood
their ground, waiting for Noetic to invite them in.
“I have never been at
a loss for words, but at this point I actually was maybe even a bit taken by the
kid’s bluntness,” he said.
Noetic again tells the boys he will call the
police, pulls his cell phone from his pocket and closes the lobby door. He walks
back to his desk and watches them on the monitors.
“The one ended up
going to the back door and just stood there staring at the camera in the back
while the other, who was talking to me, stared at the camera in the front,”
Noetic said.
By this time it’s near 6 a.m. Noetic hit the intercom button
and told them the police are on their way.
“He just smiles and tells me,
‘I need to use the phone, let us in,’” Noetic said.
Then the boys moved.
They met behind the building and stepped into a blind spot in the security
system, a spot from which there is no exit. They had disappeared from Noetic’s
monitor.
“If you go in this blind spot, there is nowhere to go. You have
to end up back on camera again,” Noetic said. “If they would have jumped the
fence, I would have seen them on camera. I saw nothing.”
-From The Shadows
So what are these children looking for? What is it exactly they want? Why do they need to be let in to use a phone, and won’t use a cellphone? There are many theories on this. The first is of course, these are vampires. Their need to be invited into your house, the dread that they can make you feel when you look in their eyes, however you can’t seem to resiste the urge to let them in. Sounds a lot like vampires to me, but there are more theories.
That they are actually grey aliens. Yes, yes, I think this one is a little far fetched as well, but greys do have big black eyes.
They are demons sent to collect the souls of specific people. Now this one does hold up a little more in context than greys or aliens. I personally have only read one account of a man surviving an encounter with the black eyed kids, but cannot seem to relocate the article, so what I will do is tell you what I remeber reading, and if you happen to stumble accross the story please link to it in the comments!
From what I remember a man was approached by two children asking to use his phone. He was hesitant, but after looking into his eyes he couldn’t seem to do anything but assist them. He allowed them into his house and directed one of the children to where the phone was, just down the entryway hall. The other child needed to use the restroom, to which the man directed the child up the stairs.
As he ran up the steps, the other child stared at him, and the man’s dread worsened. He asked why the child wasn’t going to use the phone, and the child then spoke to him, his voice now deep.
“We’ve come to collect you,” was all he said before the chilren both attacked him.
They tackled him to the ground, their teeth sharp, and their breathes smelling like sulfur. They tore and bit at the man before he struggled to stand, kicked the children off him and barricaded himself into another room. The children pounded on the door, splintering the wood shouting, “We’ve come to collect you”.
Thankfully the man was able to escape and he ran to his neighbor’s house, when he returned the children were gone, and the house was torn apart. He now lives in fear of encountering the children again.
“We’ve come to collect you” sounds very alien like. But the sulfer breath, that reeks (sorry, had to) of demons.
It was warm for a December afternoon in Hutchinson, Kan., when Katie came home from work in 2008. Katie’s ride dropped her off across from her duplex, and as she stood in the street, her ride moving slowly away, she knew something wasn’t right.
“I noticed two boys standing in my driveway,” she said. “One had longer dark hair and the other had his hood up so I couldn’t see him very well.”
The teenagers, about 15 or 16 years old, seemed to be watching her – Katie felt they were waiting for her. She steeled herself and walked nervously across the road toward her porch. The boys had lurked around her neighborhood for months, but they’d never been so bold as to stand this close to her home.
“I had seen them before, lingering in the yard, but they always left before I got out of my ride’s car,” Katie said. “I had seen them late at night as well standing across the street when I would go outside to have an occasional late-night cigarette.”
But, although pangs of unease told her to run, their boldness angered her. She stopped and asked them why they were on her property.
“They told me they needed to use a phone and that the neighbors would not let them in,” she said. “That was when I noticed their eyes – they were coal black. Just black. No white and not even a hint of iris or pupil.”
Fear shot through her, but as evenly as she could, Katie told them she didn’t have a telephone. Katie walked up her porch steps and began to unlock her door when the boy in the hood spoke.
“He asked if they could come in for a glass of water,” she said. “I turned to look at them again thinking maybe my mind was playing tricks. But no, when I turned and looked into their eyes they were pitch black as the first time.”
These children with dead, black eyes had spoken softly to her, emotion and vocal inflection absent from their words. As she looked at these boys, whose long hair and hooded sweatshirts she felt hid more than skin, she knew she had to get away.
“I felt panicked and fearful but also very vulnerable and cold,” she said. “It was like I wanted to let them in but I knew there was evil present. I had felt uneasy before seeing their eyes but now it all came out.”
Then one boy said something that turned her fear into complete terror.
“The hooded one then told me they couldn’t come in unless I told them it was OK and that they hoped I would because they were thirsty,” Katie said. “I opened my door and darted inside. At this point I shut the door and locked it.”
She dropped onto the couch, her breaths coming in short, heavy gasps, when something tapped on the window behind her head.
“One of the boys stood there staring through the glass,” Katie said. “I remember his words very clearly; ‘just let us in, miss. We aren’t dangerous, we don’t have anything to hurt you with.’ I was beyond frightened at this point.”
Katie jumped off the couch and ran through the duplex, checking doors and windows to make sure they were locked.
“I did wonder if they really couldn’t come in unless invited but I didn’t want to find out,” she said. “I sat in the living room silently waiting for a sign that they had gone.”
When her boyfriend came home a short time later, the black-eyed teens were still at the house.
“(He) asked if I knew who the two boys outside were and I said ‘no,’” Katie said. “He told me they had been standing in the driveway when he pulled up but walked away when he stepped out of the car.”
He didn’t notice the boys’ eyes, but “they gave him a strange feeling.”
Katie later asked her neighbors if the black-eyed children had asked to use their telephone like they had claimed. The neighbors noticed the teens standing in Katie’s driveway, but never spoke with them.
Although it’s been more than a year since Katie turned the black-eyed children from her door, she knows they’re still around.
“I still see them every now and then standing across the street watching,” she said. “But they have not approached again.”
-Creepypasta
There are hundreds of accounts of these children feel free to simple pull up Google and go to town. But no matter which way you put it these kids are getting alot of coverage, and scary as hell. Don’t think so? Read these accounts, get home late and night, and as you walk to your front door think to yourself “what if I heard a child’s voice behind me ask for help”.
What do you think? Are these kids real or myth?
