Scott Farley was a Boston man. He might not have been born there, but he was accustomed to the culture and had fit in like a glove. He loved Boston, almost as much as he loved his dog, but the last few months, he felt as though something was off. It wasn’t a sudden change, more like a slow creeping sensation, as if something was approaching.

He woke up the morning of March 5th in a cold sweat. He didn’t remember what he had dreamed of that could’ve scared so much, though he could see flashes of something, a man maybe. As he finished his morning routine and began his morning walk, he had already forgotten. His dog, Stump, followed along, unleashed but still by Scott’s side, when suddenly he ran off barking.

“Sh- Stump!” Exclaimed Scott in almost a whisper of a yell. He ran off after the dog, but he didn’t make it in time. Stump was already attached to a nearby man’s leg, growling and chewing on his ankle. Scott pulled Stump off, about to apologize when he looked up. The man had already begun walking away, not looking at or talking about the incident. Scott watched as the blood dripped from the man’s leg. He jogged after him and turned the man around.

“Sir, are you…” his voice trailed off. The man seemed to be taller than before. As Scott looked up, he coughed, almost choking on a scream as he saw the man’s face.

Where the man’s eyes would be, there were two hollow caves, as if someone has plucked them right out of his head. Scott yelped and fell backward as the man faded into nothingness. He frantically tried for his phone, scrambling to get it out of his pocket as he remembered the countless nights without sleep as a child, afraid that a man would take away his eyes so that he could once again see. Scott’s head began to hurt as he closed his eyes and breathed. He soon found himself walking home, sure that his dog was following close behind him, but he couldn’t remember if Stump was really there or not.

He took his key from his wallet and unlocked the door, entering slowly. He could feel wind from inside as he walked into the dark apartment. He reached around for the lightswitch when suddenly he felt the cold metal of a pull switch caress his face. He pulled on the dangling string and a dim light turned on from his window. As he walked to it slowly, he could feel another presence. He looked into the window, seeing his father and mother in his childhood bedroom, checking the closet. He looked to the right and saw himself, maybe 6 years old, cowered behind blankets. He watched as his parents tucked him in, turned off the lights and left.

Not soon after, he watched as the closet opened. He saw his child self ducking below the blankets as a familiar man walked out of the closet. The man’s unnaturally long fingers rose towards the child’s face.

Those same fingers appeared in front of his own face, hooking towards his eyes and joltingly pushing themselves into his eyes. He screamed as everything went dark.