this post was submitted on 13 Sep 2024
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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Agile_Beginning_7281 on 2024-09-13 04:30:36+00:00.


Ever since I was a child, I’ve been able to see things that no one else could. These weren’t just fleeting shadows or ghosts from nightmares, but strange and terrifying creatures with shapes I couldn’t even begin to describe. They weren’t human, nor were they any kind of animal I’d ever known. They were grotesque figures, twisted and distorted in ways that defied nature.

I saw them everywhere, at any time. In school, while I was sitting in class, I would sometimes see them lurking in the corners of the room, hiding in the shadows under the desks, or crouching on top of the bookshelves, their empty eyes staring straight at me. When I walked down the street, they would suddenly appear from the shadows of narrow alleys, as if they had been there all along, just waiting to reveal themselves. They followed me with every step, making me afraid to walk alone as the evening began to fall.

But the most terrifying thing was when I realized they didn’t just appear in public places—they had also crept into my own home. In the dark corners where the light couldn’t reach, under the bed, inside the closet, or sometimes just in a small corner of the living room, they were there, like a part of the space itself.

I tried telling my parents about what I saw, but they only laughed, thinking I was just imagining things. They chalked it up to the vivid imagination of a child or simply childhood nightmares. But I knew these weren’t hallucinations. I could see them as clearly as I saw my own family.

The only person who believed me was my grandmother. She was the one who didn’t laugh when I talked about these terrifying creatures. Instead of dismissing me like my parents, she gently took my hand and said, “Don’t react, don’t look at them for too long, and absolutely don’t answer them. If you ignore them, they’ll go away.”

From that day on, she taught me how to ignore these creatures. Every time they appeared, I had to focus on something else, pretend I didn’t see anything at all. She warned me that if I paid too much attention to them, they would realize I could see them, and that would lead to dire consequences.

My grandmother and I were very close. She wasn’t just my protector against these monstrous entities; she was the only one who truly understood me. She always taught me how to live with the fear, how to stay calm when those creatures were nearby. Thanks to her, I managed to get through a haunted childhood without losing my mind.

But as time passed, I grew older, and my grandmother grew weaker. The years took their toll on her body, slowing her down. Each step she took seemed to drain a little more of her life force. Her once sharp eyes began to grow dim, her vision no longer as clear as it used to be. Sometimes, I saw her squinting to see things clearly, and a deep fear welled up inside me. I worried that one day, her failing eyesight would no longer distinguish between reality and the monstrous, between human and demon.

And then that dreaded day came. One morning, when I was at school, in the middle of class, my phone started vibrating. It was my parents calling, their voices heavy and filled with sorrow. They told me that the hospital had just called, with the news—my grandmother had passed away. The doctors said she had died of old age, peacefully in her sleep, without any pain. But even as they spoke, I felt a cold dread settle in my chest, knowing that the explanation didn't bring any real comfort to the overwhelming grief that followed.

Deep down, I knew that wasn’t the real reason. She had warned me about this many times, about the danger she always feared. I couldn’t believe she had simply passed away due to age. My heart ached with the thought that, in the dark of night, when she was alone with the shadows, her eyes had failed her, and she couldn’t distinguish between human and demon. Perhaps she had seen one of them and mistaken it for someone she knew. Perhaps she had unwittingly responded, and then… they killed her.

The pain of losing her overwhelmed me. I couldn’t accept that the one person who understood and protected me was gone. Each day that passed, the emptiness inside me grew. I tried to carry on, to stay calm and follow her teachings, but the void and fear only deepened.

Then one day, as I was walking along the path where my grandmother and I used to stroll, I saw her. She was standing in the distance, her back turned to me, but I recognized that familiar figure immediately. My heart raced, overwhelmed with joy. All my thoughts blurred in that moment—nothing mattered except the sheer happiness of seeing her again. I couldn’t hold back my emotions. Without questioning it, without wondering if it was real or just my longing playing tricks on me, I found myself running toward her, desperate to be close to her once more.

I called out to her, my voice trembling with excitement and relief. She turned around slowly, her familiar, warm smile spreading across her face just as it always had. For a moment, everything felt right again, as if she had never left. But as I hurried closer, something in her expression began to shift. The warmth in her eyes started to fade, replaced by a chilling emptiness. Her smile, once so comforting, began to twist and contort, the edges stretching into an unnatural grin that no longer resembled the loving grandmother I knew.

Rage flared up inside me when I realized that these demons had dared to take on my grandmother’s form—the only person who had ever protected me. They had twisted her face into something grotesque and evil. How dare they? They hadn’t just shattered the peace in my world; they had torn apart the most cherished memory I had of her.

I couldn’t contain myself any longer. I screamed, cursing the demons, my hands shaking with fury. But in that moment, I realized I had made a fatal mistake. My grandmother’s words echoed in my mind: “Don’t react.” But it was too late. They knew I could see them. They knew I was afraid.

From the surrounding darkness, more and more of these creatures began to appear. They slithered out from every shadow, from the thickening night, surrounding me. They were no longer just fleeting figures; they were enormous, horrifying entities with empty eyes and twisted faces. The sound of their cold, hissing breaths grew louder, closer, as if they were about to consume me.

The darkness closed in, so thick I could hardly breathe. They were here. I could feel their icy breath on the back of my neck. They were getting closer…

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