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)