Eyewitness sketch
Artist unknown
“They appeared on the side of the road,” the drunken man who obviously hadn’t bathed in days slurred. “They tried to drag me off. Looked like frogs…sounded like em too. They had a hunger in their eyes, I know what they wanted…they wanted me!” The bartender kicked the man out shortly after, playing his story off as the ramblings from the whiskey he had been drinking. I would have to, if not for the claw print I saw on the man’s arm. Continue reading
The first thing Christie knew of his imminent demise was a cold, damp sensation in his hand. He opened his eyes and looked down the length of his arm. There was—unlikely as it seemed—a severed hand in his hand. More unlikely still, the two hands were exchanging a grip of greeting, like old friends. He stood up, making an incoherent noise of disgust in his throat and trying to dislodge the thing he was unwillingly grasping by shaking his arm like a man with gum on his fingers.
His mind spun with questions. Had he picked up this object without knowing it? If so, where, and in God’s name whose was it? More distressing yet, how was it possible that a thing so unquestionably dead could be holding on to his hand as if it intended never to be parted from him?
-Clive Barker, The Body Politic
Dispatch – “911, what is the nature of your emergency?”
Caller – “I just shot and killed an intruder. He was wearing a mask and had a knife.”
Dispatch – “Okay, stay on the line, we are sending someone right away. Caller ID doesn’t seems to be working, give me your address”
Voice in background – “He’s gone!”
Caller – “What? I shot him four times!”
Dispatch – “Sir, stay on the line. What’s your address?”
Voice in the background begins screaming. Sound of phone falling to the floor. Sound of screaming. Sound of Two gunshots before the line goes dead.
Continue reading
What he saw then was terrible enough to make his worst imaginings of the thing in the cellar look like sweet dreams; what he saw destroyed his sanity in one clawing stroke…It held George’s arm in its thick and wormy grip, it pulled George toward that terrible darkness where the water rushed and roared and bellowed as it bore its cargo of storm debris toward the sea. George craned his neck away from that final blackness and began to scream into the rain, to scream mindlessly into the white autumn sky which curved above Derry on that day in the fall of 1957.
–Stephen King, IT
Sketch drawn by an eye witness.
“As I looked at it… it kind of looked a minute like an ape. And then I looked at the head and the head was very big and it was a very weird head It had bright green eyes and the eyes just glowed like, they were just looking exactly at me.” – Abby Brabham, eyewitness, 1977. Continue reading
The Popobawa
Artist Unknown
I woke up frightened. It’s if I knew to be afraid even before I saw the monster. It lopped from the shadows on all fours, planting its wings and swinging its back legs forward. Not like a bat moves, but like a gorilla, you know? But it was a bat, and a man, with one big gleaming eye in the center of its face, right on top of that disgusting grin. I just got sense it was happy I saw it, happy I was afraid, and when it took me, happy I was in pain. It forced me to keep eye-contact until I passed out. – anonymous Popobawa survivor, as told in John Leek Hansen’s Dark and Dangerous Entities from Around the World. Continue reading
Bela Lugosi
Mark of the Vampire
“I was a soldier in the War of Northern Aggression, it was well over a century and a half ago. One evening while I was on patrol, a finely dressed gentleman strode from the woods toward camp. Before I could even challenge him, his eyes burned into mine. I felt him flip through my thoughts as a man might the pages of a book. As I fell to my knees, I knew him to be my master, my lord. I would serve and love him unswervingly-walk through the gates of Heaven or Hell for him. I wept to think he may look away.”
– Jedadiah White, Private, Confederate States Army(deceased).
Continue reading
Subterranean Deep One
Art By Celeste Burcham
The things in the cave… they took my friends. All of them. Oh, God, the eyes.. their eyes.. And Pete. They, they broke his arms then twisted him right in half, Lucy screamed and we tried to stop them. They dragged her off into the water… And Nick, he fired at them. We should have brought more guns, it wasn’t enough. I hit my head. I don’t know where Nick and Frank are… everywhere… and then I woke up, they were all gone. My friends. The things. Just muddy footprints at the water’s edge… I can still hear her screams.
–Logan County Sheriff’s Department, Case #: 345214, October 8th, 1997 04:15, Transcript of verbal statement. Mike Pickering to Deputy Carl Schmidt. Charges: Influence of a Controlled Substance (LSD). Suspect: Disappearances of 4 people. Continue reading
The Hook
Artist Unknown
A boy and girl park away from town, away from lights and judging adults. As windows steam and the couple loses themselves, something is coming for them. Something with a sharp hook, thirsty for their hot blood. Continue reading
The Mothman
By Cathy Wilkins
“They all looked into the blackness and saw two red bright red circles…the startled foursome saw they were attached to some large animal. ‘It was shaped like a man, but bigger,’ Roger said later. ‘Maybe six and a half or seven feet tall. And it had big wings folded against its back.’ ‘But it was those eyes that got us,’ Linda declared. ‘They were hypnotic,’ Roger continued. ‘For a minute we could only scare at it. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.’” – John Keel, The Mothman Prophecies.
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