Black Eyed Children 1

The Black-Eyed Kids
by Tee

I am a 47-year-old woman. The day in question was a normal day for me. I am an apartment manager of over 20 years experience and open my door to strangers every day. Sometimes I don't like the looks of the people that come to my door to see available apartments, but I will still make myself available to show the ready and empty apartments to rent.
On this day, however, I was not willing to even step out of my office door to show to the very creepy young boy who had knocked at my door. He had come in the early afternoon and knocked on my office door. I opened the door to see who it was. He was young boy of about 17 or 18, approximately. He asked me about an open apartment for rent. I remember feeling very scared and shaken by his appearance. He did not look weird by his dress or such. It was his eyes. I remember feeling the hair on my neck stand up, and I was shaking just from looking in his eyes.
I have never felt like this before in all the years I have done this job. I could not look him straight in the eyes. I felt like I was about to die. My instincts told me this. I noticed he was on a bicycle, not in a vehicle. He was not moving toward me or anything, but he was just waiting for me to invite him in or take him to the empty unit. Now, some people may think that I was just over-reacting or something, but the eyes were completely black – like there was no real pupil. He spoke normally to me, but I had to just shut the door in his face and get as far from him as I could. I felt like I was in extreme danger. Only because of the eyes. I think if I had looked any longer into them, I would have not been able to shut that door.
I shook for hours after that. I called my daughter at work and told her about it. She told me about the "black-eyed kids." I am still afraid of that image of his eyes. The black-eyed kids are some young kids that try and get people to invite them into their cars or homes,etc. – and the people end up dead.
There were two incidents that occurred in Portland, Oregon here that I heard about. I just tried to look up anything I could about them, but there isn't a lot of info on them. Just be warned, do not allow any kids with the dark eyes inside your home or vehicles, no matter how young or persistant they are. My daughter, who is a fan of Art Bell, told me about your site. I just felt moved to write my story.

a newer account of the strange night visitors

Crash Site:

I recently heard about the Strange Night Visitors and I believe I had the same experience a couple of years back.

I live somewhere between the suburbs and farmland; you know, the place where your nearest neighbor is a two minute drive away.

Anyway, one night my parents were out for the weekend so I decided to order pizza and stay home alone. At about 10:30 at night I heard a slow pounding on the houses wooden door. It was very faint and I am not exactly sure how I even heard it.

Naturally, being stupid and young I opened the door without checking to see who it was.

When I saw who it was my skin practically leapt of my body, however, I was not sure why. The person at the door was not strange looking; if I had seen him during the day I probably would have overlooked him. He was wearing a black pinstripe suit and sunglasses and had pale skin with high cheekbones; possibly of eastern descent.

He told me he had just been in a car crash and needed to use my telephone to contact the authorities. Normally I would have admitted him instantly, but there was something wrong about him. The way he said it was not in any way distressed, yet it was also not said in shock. It was just so calm.

I told him that if he wanted I would call the police for him. He paused for a moment then looked backwards at the darkness behind him. As he did that, I caught a look at his eyes beneath his sunglasses; they were enormous with red veins popping out of them and it seemed like they could explode at any moment. I got a feeling of complete and utter panic and I could feel despair weighing down on me.

I assured him that I would call the cops for him if he just stayed on the front porch. I shut the door and went to the phone. As I dialed ‘nine’ and ‘one’ I looked through the peephole to see the stranger, but he was no longer there.

another Strange Night Visitor

Encounter with a S.N.V.

Looking back a couple years ago I now know the person I encountered that day was probably not a person. What it was I cannot say. Here is what happened though:

I worked as a delivery driver for a private company and one night I was coming back after driving out to Houston to give some clients blueprints for a project. When I saw that I was running low on fuel I stopped in a rural area at a self-serve gas station off the high way to fill up. Once the car was full and I had paid using my debit card, I went back into my car and closed my door when another car pulled up in front of me without any lights on; blocking me in. The person inside left their vehicle and walked up to my driver-side windshield, right next to me.

Me: Do ‘ya need something?

Stranger: Not a thing in this world.

Me: Okay then, do you mind moving your car, you’re blocking me in.

Stranger: That is not mine. (Pointing at the car he just exited).

There was something indescribable about this man. He was eerie, courteous, but somewhat frightening at the same time.

Me: Well, I don’t care if it is or not, but you got to move that car.

Stranger: I don’t have to do anything. We have so many choices on this rock and we are not limited by the actions of our own thoughts.

Me: That’s fine, but if you don’t move your car I’m going to have to call the cops.

Stranger: Do you have a cell phone?

Me: Yes. (I lied, realizing how vulnerable I was out here alone.)

Stranger: Tell me your name.

Me: Joseph. (I lied again.)

Stranger: You look more like a Jacob.

My face flushed as he guessed my real name. Or was it a guess?

Stranger: What is it that you do, Joseph.

Me: I drive, and I have to go. Could you please move your car?
My mind was racing as my body became heavy with fear.

Stranger: Why are you lying? You don’t have to be anywhere.

His sallow face was serious and there was something wrong with it, although I couldn’t tell for sure what, but it seemed like he eyes could see through me.

Me: Okay, I’m lying. I want to go though, so could you…?

Stranger: What is important to you?

Me: I don’t know, football, soccer, saving the whales.

Stranger: I’m only blocking you in on the front. Why don’t you just reverse out of the lot?

His eyes tightened as I swore under my breath for my own stupidity. He moved to his car and entered as I reversed then drove off. On the drive back I swear I could feel his eyes on me the entire time.

Strange Night Visitors 2

Movie Night:
It was a couple days after our families Y2K millennium party and me and my husband had several movies left over that we had not watched yet. So, that Sunday night we made sure the tapes were unwound then stuck a movie in the VCR.

I don’t recall what movie we watched first, second, or third for that matter, it doesn’t seem very important now. When we were in the middle of the third one, my husband stopped the film and decided we needed some buttery popcorn to enhance our viewing pleasure. He jumped up and practically ran to the kitchen when someone knocked on our front door. “Want me to get it, or should we just ignore it?” I heard him call to me; “No, might be important, I’ll answer it,” I responded. Pulling a sweater on I strolled over to the door and casually opened it.

“God evening ma’am, I think I might have something you might find very interesting.” The man at the door was giant, but thin, and wore a black suit with a fedora style hat. He was vaguely handsome despite the fact that he was incredibly white with little blue veins across his face. However, regardless of this there was something about him that I instantly distrusted.

“I don’t need anything right now, thank you.” I’m not sure what it was, but a chill was sent down my spine.

“You sure? It will only take a minute of your time. This is something I know you will like,” he insisted.

“No, really I’m alright.” I was becoming slightly distressed as I began to realize how odd it was to see a salesman at this time of the night, so I put my hand on the door, preparing to shut it at a moments notice.

“Now ma’am, I am not leaving here tonight if you do not look at this,” he looked down at something I couldn’t see, “it is a fine thing, and if you let me step inside I can show it to you.”

There was something about him that made me feel as if he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I didn’t care though, I wasn’t letting any stranger into my house.

“Really, WE are broke, and WE can not afford anything else.” I tried to stress how I wasn’t alone.

He smiled then looked down again. When he looked back up his teeth were clenched and his eyes bulged from his head. “Are you going to let me in or not!?” I swear I could see the thin veins in his face throbbing with rage.

Shocked by his sudden change in expression I just stood there staring into his large black pupils, quivering in fear.

“Hey, you need help with anything?” I heard my husband’s voice and then felt his warming touch on my back, causing me to turn to face him.

“Yes, can you tell this man, that…” I stopped there; when I turned back, he was gone.

Hello, Teacher (Strange Night Visitors)

Hello, Teacher: By Mr. Keller
6/9/2002


I am a 61-year-old bachelor and retired high school English teacher. I left the teaching gig twelve years ago to spend the rest of my life in leisure and to fulfill my dream of becoming a published author. Granted twelve years of soft living and procrastination had made it so my series only had an outline with a little more than half of the first book written. During these years, I primarily lived alone in my condo with only the occasional visits by my nephew, nieces, and old students. Therefore, when three people claiming to be former students came knocking at my door one night it did not come as much of a surprise.

I am going to stop the story here to throw in a small detail that might have some relevance in the grand scheme of things. About a week before by guests arrived one midnight, I had received an odd letter in the mail. The envelope was perfectly normal, with a stamp and my address typewritten on it, however, when I opened it up I found that the letter was not a letter at all, but merely a piece of paper. There was absolutely nothing written on it and after further examination it looked as if the paper used was extremely dated and had begun to turn yellow. At the time, I merely shrugged this off; it did not seem like too big of a deal.

However, a week later I was awoken around midnight by three young people knocking diligently on my condo door. I opened the door to see who it was; I remember feeling very frightened the moment I did too.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up when I saw the three of them. The one in the front was slightly taller than me, while another male and a female stood about a foot behind him. All three looked to be in their late teen years and theirs clothes, despite being all black, was relatively normal.

When I asked them what they wanted, they said they were old students of mine who just wanted to reconnect. As I said above, this was not an odd thing, but these people were too young and could not possibly have been taught by me. When I asked for their names the man in front seemed to look confused and did not answer, instead he repeated that he would like to come inside, to share stories of my class.

As I was about to tell them to leave, I noticed the boy and girl behind the man in the front; they stood shoulder to shoulder touching each other’s arms and legs. Confused I looked to the man in front of me whose pale blue eyes seemed to bulge from his head as he asked if he could come inside again. Something about him made me feel as if I were in extreme danger, like if I had let these strange people in they would surely have killed me.

I am not sure why but for a second I almost let them enter, because maybe then I thought the overwhelming fear would stop. However, I somehow managed to raise enough courage to slam the door in his face. I half expected the three to tear the door down, but they did nothing. There was just silence.


(NOTE: This story is what got me interested in S.N.V.; the person telling it is my Uncle.)

Strange Night Visitors

My Strange Midnight Visitor, by Randy Milton: April 8, 1999


I don’t think any of you will believe me, I hardly believe myself and I saw it with my own two eyes.

There are certain things in this world we have come to accept as the “real” reality, and they definitely do not include what I saw on the night of April 8, 1999.

See, its already hard to believe and I haven’t even said anything yet.

Anyway, here goes.

I had just come home from a terrible day at my part-time and mind-numbingly dull sales job at a conglomerate I would probably be sued over for naming. It was sometime around nine or ten o clock when I had left (I remember because I left early so I wouldn’t have to stock the store for the next day) so when I got home it must have been about twenty minutes later.

Like I always do the moment I get home, I look around to see if my roommate is around, he wasn’t, then press the flashing red button on my answering machine to check my missed calls. While changing out of my work and into my dress clothes I listened to my three messages.

Well, “listened to” is a relative term; there was no sound in the messages, just a few seconds of silence followed by the click of the caller’s phone hanging up.

Although I was slightly confused about why someone sent me three blank messages, it wasn’t the end of the world, so I blew it off and laid down on the couch for about fifteen minutes to unwind from a day of hard work.

I reached over to the coffee table to grab the remote when I heard a loud banging on the apartment door.

Mumbling curse words I reluctantly stood up and marched to answer, expecting to find my roommate Mike on the other side.

I don’t think there are enough words in the English language that can tell you what the person at the door looked like or how I felt.

All I can say was that he was tall, emaciated, and as pale as a corpse. He wore all black clothing that seemed to blend in with each other and to top it off he had these old-fashioned black rim glasses and ebony colored hair that was slicked straight back.

For a second he just stood their silently, without moving, without blinking, with a smile plastered on his face.

“C-c can I help you?” I asked stupidly.

“Yes, your name is Randal, is it not?”

“It’s just Randy; people mistake it for that all the time though.”

“Oh my, I am sorry, I really am. Is their anything I can do to make it up to you?” The stranger asked with the same smile on his face.

“No, it’s alright do you need something?”

He seemed to reflect and consider my question for a moment before he shook his head then grinned wider; his teeth were bleached white. “Can you tell me how far away Los Angeles is?”

“I don’t know, a couple hours maybe.”

“Oh my, that simply will not work. Would you mind if I stayed here overnight?”

My stomach plummeted and my blood ran cold in my veins. I was alone after all and I had no idea if any of my neighbors were home.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea; my roommate wouldn’t like it. There are a couple of hotels nearby though; maybe you could try one of those.”

“No, I think I’d rather stay here.” He declared, his smile fading into a smirk.

I didn’t know what to do, then I looked up at his face to try to tell him off.

I froze.

His eyes were pale blue, like ice, and they were so large they looked as if they might pop out of his skull.

“Uh…”

“Can I come in now.” It was no longer a question; he moved his long limbs closer to the threshold, almost touching the frame of the door. “I WANT IN…LET ME IN…”

The hair on the back of my neck rose and every instinct I had told me to run away as fast as my legs could carry me. However, I somehow kept my nerves about me and muttered something that resembled “no” before I slammed the door shut and pressed the full weight of my body against it in an attempt to barricade it.

Quickly I looked through the peephole to see what the stranger’s expression would be, but no one was there.

For the rest of the night I stayed by the door, unable to move myself until my friend came back early in the morning.

I still don’t know what happened to me that night, but I have since researched the subject extensively and have come to the conclusion that if I had let that thing in I wouldn’t be here to post my experience.

Take from this what you will.






(this story has been taken from its owners site and has been posted here with permission by the author, randy milton)

Shadow People

Shadow people (also known as Shadow men, shadow folk or shadow beings) are said to be shadow like creatures of supernatural origin that appear as dark forms in the peripheries of people's vision and disintegrate, or move between walls, when noticed.
Reports of shadow people are similar to ghost sightings, but differ in that shadow people are not reported as having human features, wearing modern/period clothing, or attempting to communicate. Witnesses also do not report the same feelings of being in the presence of something that 'was once human'. Some individuals have described being menaced, chased, or (more rarely) attacked by shadow people. There have also been reports of shadow people appearing in front of witnesses or lingering for several seconds before disappearing. Witnesses report that encounters are typically accompanied by a feeling of dread.