Every family has stories they pass down from generation to generation. Some are kind, and give children hearing the story a confident or happy mindset for the rest of that day. My grandfather was the story teller of my family. I remember when me and my cousins were young, how we would all pile onto the old comfortable couches in the living room and wait for him to think of a good one to tell. What I loved about his stories is they were all real. Some about him and his older brother getting into mischief, and others about how he and Nannie met. I enjoyed all of them. To this day at 31 years old with my own wife and children remember some, that I honorability pass on to them. There, is however one story my grandfather told us once that I will never forget. It is a story he had told me and my cousins one time when we all came over to his house to visit him when we were older, around our teenage years. When he felt it would be acceptable for us to hear it. Its a strange story, not one many could believe. I wanted to publish my grandfathers story to this site where I knew people would already not believe it unless they were experiencing it. People on this site are used to reading horror stories, right? Of course, I’ll tell you that this story is real and you will brush off my warning because its; “Just a way to spook gullible people.” Its sad how amazingly wrong you are, because the story I am about to tell you is undoubtedly real.
My grandfathers story goes like this:
There is a boy, and he is dying. The upper front of his body slumps over and into his bathtub, which sits in his bathroom, inside an apartment he shares with his roommate. Red streams of blood run down both his wrists and drip from his fingers, creating large pools of dark red that sit at the bottom of the porcelain tub. Tears run down his face and mix with the pool of blood. His vision is darkened around the edges and is dabbled with red specks. He feels no pain, only an empty numbness as he waits for death. The boy hears a knock at the bathroom door, which he assumes is his roommate. The tapping of his roommate’s hand tapping on the door grows more rapid as the dying boy twists his neck to tell his roommate to go away, however his voice is no where above the sound of a whisper and sends him into a coughing fit. After a warning forcing entry, the boy hears the sound of the door nob turning and a creak as the door opens. Everything is silent for a second before the sound of a loud intake of air erupts from behind the boy, and the boys roommate says he is going to get help. The boy hears footsteps racing down the hallway towards some goal his roommate has set in mind.
The boy coughs, and moves his head slowly to look at the creature sitting atop the bathroom counter. The creature has dark skin that clings to its bones. The creature smiles at the boy, showing long canine teeth. It holds up the sharp edge of a razor, and waves its hand at the boy. The boy takes slow intakes of air, trying to control his breathing. He hopes that his roommate has decided to call someone to finally rid him of this creature, that has followed him around since it appeared in his junior high years. He is now 22.
The boy hears the thumbs of approaching feet and his roommate appears by his side and starts clotting his wrists with towels in an attempt to stop the heavy bleeding. “Crap...Don’t worry man, the ambulance is on its way. Just hang in there!” The boys roommate’s voice sounds faded, almost as if he was far away instead of right beside the boys ear. The boy tries to warn his roommate about the creature, his voice coming out rough and cracked. The dark edges surrounded the boys vision starts to creep deeper into his vision and his head hits the edge of the bathtub and he blacks out.
After blacking out the boy doesn’t remember anything but dreaming. And he had the pleasantry of dreaming about D. The creature, D, had been with the boy ever since the boys second year of junior high, and appeared right around the time when his father died of cancer and school and neighbour hood bullies enjoyed harassing him most, although to the boy, it always seemed they harassed him no matter what. They would taunt him for tripping down stairs and made it their personal jobs to push him down school stair flights further, they spray painted his garage door before with the words, “Poor excuse for life form here.” The boy said nothing about it to his widowed mother, who never found out about the bullies or the door. He typically got home before anyone else and had just finished washing the words off the door when his older brother arrived home from highschool. The boys brother was suspicious of the boys excuse for cleaning the door, though he said nothing much of it but gave the boy a look as he walked into the house.
The boy put away all the supplies he used cleaning and headed up to his room for some alone time. He planned to not let these people get a hold on him so he pushed his pain and anger towards himself at the back of his mind. In his young teenage and childhood years, the boy blamed himself for being bullied.
Upon entering his room, the boy noticed a rather peculiar creature sitting on his desk, staring at him with a smile. The creature was about as small as a kitten and had a simular shape, but without the tail and ears. His face reminded the boy of the face of the cat in the story Alice in wonderland, due to his large smile, seemingly mixed with the face of a bat. Instead of being covered in fur, his skinny body was wrapped in a dark leather like skin so tightly, that when he walked you could see his bones move and legs shift with the weight of his body.
The boy looked into the dark empty eyes of the creature, and stood frozen in place just inside his room. He considered calling his brother for help, but pushed the idea away thinking, I’m not a baby anymore. I need to grow up...
So the boy took a deep breath and moving slowly, closed the door behind him. “Hello.” He said to the creature, which he was starting to assume was just a stray cat. The creature, in turn, smiled a large creepy smile at him and tilted its head, which looked a little too big for its body.
As the boy looked into the eyes of the creature, all his emotions were starting to grow more restless. The boy found feelings of sadness, depression, and anger pushing their way deeper into his head and body. The boy felt worthless, and started to blame himself for little and big things. The boy curled up on his head, now oblivious to the creature creeping closer towards him. Tears welled up in the boys eyes as he thought. The creature sat beside him now, still creepily smiling. The boy sniffled, and looked back at the creature. The two stared at each other like this for a long time. Restless and curious, the boy reaches to the creature, and rubs its head. Still smiling, the creature brushes its head closer.
The boy feels a sudden pain growing in both his arms.
Looking down, the boy looks at the large scars that have started to form into his skin. Three long scars go across his right forearm, while two are on his left. Red droplets of blood dapple themselves out of the new cuts and drop onto the boys leg. The boy is frozen by fear. He can only assume that the creature has done this to him. Looking up now, the fourteen year old boy looks back to the cat-like creature, and notices the difference of it. The creature has grown larger. Instead of being the size of a small kitten, the creatures body matches that of an adult raccoon. The creature shakes its head and smiles at the boy once more before it licks the boys hand, jumps joyfully back up onto the desk, and re-curls itself back up comfortably.
The boy can’t move. He is frozen to the edge of his bed in fear and curiosity. He didn’t like the feelings he got around the creature, and his new scars made him nervous and frightened even more. He sat there, on the edge of his bed, thinking about this. And he sat and thought for a while. He wondered why the creature had chosen him to taunt, and he wondered if it was really the creature giving him these depressed thoughts, and if it wasn’t, what was wrong with him that made him think this way?
Lost in his train of thought, the boy didn’t hear his mother calling him for dinner until she has opened his bedroom door and gasped. The boy looked up from his arms and looked at his mother, expecting she gasped at the creature relaxing on his bedroom desk. “What did you do?”she asked with a voice full more of concern than anger. She gently removed a pair of scissors from the hand of the boy that were not there a moment ago.
“I didn’t do anything, mom,” the boy responded still sounding shocked and confused. “It was him.” the boy pointed to the desk, where the dark skinned creature still lay, smiling in its dreams.
The woman looked over to where her son pointed, took a breath to keep herself from crying and screaming at the same time. She looked back to her son and shook her head, still gently holding the hand she removed the scissors from. “Honey, the only thing I see are books and pens, aside from that, nothing is there,” she spoke kindly. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. Or if you don’t want to talk to me about it I can find you someone to talk too.”
The boy slowly shakes his head, confused. “I don’t....”
The mother breathes, again trying to keep herself calm with deep breaths. “I’ll find you someone. Come get ready for dinner, do you have any more of these?” she holds up the scissors, and is answered with a shake of the boys head. How could I have more? He thought. I didn’t even know I had those ones...
The rest of that night went slow. Dinner was quiet for the family with little to no talk about everyone’s day, which was a routine that they shared, though it quieted down since the father died. After dinner, the boy helped his mother clean and put the dishes away before heading back to his room to study. His mother was hesitant about leaving him alone and wanted him to do his homework in the dinning room, though after agreeing he wouldn’t do anything, the mother hesitantly let him go.
The boy re-entered his room and glared at the creature who stared back at him smiling, angry at the creature for getting him in trouble. The boy was confused why his mother didn’t see the creature, which was still so obnoxiously smiling at him. Just when the boy was about to ask the creature, without expecting much of an answer, the door to the boys bedroom opened and closed. The boy turned to look behind him, and saw his brother standing awkwardly. “We need to talk...” He said.
The two brothers sat on the boys bed, and the oldest brother asked the boy questions. He would ask things like, “Is there someone hurting you?” “Is this about what happened with dad? You couldn’t of helped it. No one could have.” “Is mom sending you to talk to someone?” “What do you mean, creature?”
The boy answered his brothers questions truthfully. “I’m being bullied but it’s not that bad, really.” “No, its not. I didn’t hurt myself, the creature somehow did.” “I-I believe so. I don’t need it though, I’m fine.” “You don’t see him? Sitting over there on my desk...?” At this point, the boy again pointed to the skinny creature sitting on his desk, smiling at both him and his older brother.
The boy wakes up from his dream to darkness, with the feeling of something in his arm and a soft matrice at his back. He hears sirens, and the voice of someone shouting. “We have a heart beat!” the voice shouts to someone else. The boy can not see, and although he wills his eyes to open, they stay closed. Much of what the boy doesn’t know, is he is ridding in the back of an ambulance on his way to the hospital, where doctors will prepare to save his life. His roommate has already called the boys mother and she will be meeting both of them at the hospital. The boys creature had cut a important artery in one of his wrists, and although the paramedics were doing all they could to keep the boy alive before they got to the hospital, he didn’t have long to live. The boy again blacks out.
Upon opening his eyes, something he is glad he can do once again, he notices he is in a small room with a familiar lady. This lady was his therapist. D doesn’t like her much, he always frowns and snarls when the boy enters her office. The boy had named D one of the first times he has been in an appointment with the therapist lady. She had told him her theory of him having clinical depression, and the boy first assumed she could see D, and that is what she had called him. Going home that day, he named D, though after doing some research on what depression was, he didn’t much like the sound of it but felt it fit D. The boy had learned to keep a safe distance from D, whom has grown larger off from the boys emotional and mental, pain and suffering. Though he tried to lock D out of places, D would somehow manage to re-appear out of thin air. He was always there with the boy. If the boy was walking, D was right on his heels. And if the boy somehow forgot D was beside him, D would remind him by climbing onto the boys shoulder, or tugging on his pant leg.
After years passing, the boy became used to D. Visiting the therapist lady made D slowly stop growing at times, sometimes all together for a few days, but then something melancholy-like would happen and D would be back to his usual self. Eventually, the boy got tired going to the therapist around age eighteen.
Sometimes while walking down the street, the boy would notice people with other creatures just barely visible either climbing on the back of the person, too largely overweight and lazy to carry itself, or trailing behind their person. The boy found it scary when he saw children, sometimes younger than he was, with a little tiny creature just noticeable trailing a few meters behind them. The boy was aware that sometimes D would reach up and try to sit on his shoulder, but would always brush him back down. D would then continue to follow the boy.
In his later years of being eighteen, the boys brother had gone to join the military. The two brothers, who were used to keeping in contact regularly, now would barely be in contact with each other due to the oldest brothers new job. The family, along with a few friends, was holding a goodbye party for the older brother. The boy hadn’t seen his mother since he moved out a few months before the party, though they would regularly call for a few hours daily. So the boy was surprised that when he saw his mother at the party, he also saw a large, bulking fat creature sitting on her shoulders. He didn’t see much point mentioning the creature to her (being so used to people not believing what he saw, often excusing what he said as a practical joke or that the boy was loosing his mind) , though the boy did lightly comment about how he thinks his mother should start to open up to people more, instead of wearing a brave mask. The boy was worried about the creature, but knew his mother would never do anything drastic. She wasn’t the type to just give up and stop fighting, and the boy knew that she would never purposely leave him and his brother. After talking to her for a little longer, the boys mother excused herself from the conversation when she noticed a relative or friend she hadn’t seen in a long time. Looking around, the boy took notice of his brother grabbing a drink, and he headed over to him.,
The boy had started a lively conversation with his brother, joking about how his brother must not get shot to hide his worry, when he was suddenly succumbed to a world full of darkness.
The boy felt the cool press of a bed on his back and something clamped on one of this fingers while a machine beeped softly close by. Though his eyes were closed, he could just make out a large lamp in the corner of the room, and another light attached to the ceiling illuminating yellow patches of light. As the boy started to re-gain conciseness, he starts to ask questions that any person would ask.
Where am I?
What am I doing here?
Why can’t I see?
These are some examples of the thoughts that flooded the boys mind. He tried to call out, the boy willed his mouth to open and make a sound, but he continued to lay motionless on his matrice. He started to panic, his heart beat starting to race making the machine beeping beside him start to beep louder and faster. He wanted to move, to call out or move his relaxed muscles would surely make this less hellish, but his body continued to lay still beside his monitor on his bed. While the boy was in his panic, he was unaware of a being rushing into the room with him until the doctors hand was holding his shoulders, shouting his name. Breathing heavily, the boy focused on the voice of an older man (maybe in his early fifties, the boy thought).
The being repeated the boys name about three times, before to the boys relief, he started to explain what was happening.
The being removed his hands from the boys shoulders and moved closer to the single entrance into the boys room, explaining to the boy how he was in the Luis Williams Hospital in a coma due to blood loss. The being also explained how the boys roommate found him in the act of suicide and if it wasn’t for the roommates quick thinking and reaction, the boy would be dead on a bathroom floor right now.
“When will he exit the...coma?” the new voice sounded feminine. It was soft, almost soothing even though the voice sounded distraught, as if the voice couldn’t quite believe what it was hearing, and sounded as if its owner had been recently crying. The new voice sounded familiar, but the boy couldn’t recognize it right away.
The being hadn’t been talking to the boy. And the boy now realized, the being had been speaking to the new familiar voice. Not to him. It made more sence, than the being referring to the boy by using his name and pronouns aside from saying “You” instead.
“We, aren’t quite sure when, though we belive that your son will wake up within the next week or two, due to his surprisingly quick recovery. However after he does, we would like to keep him here for a few days to make sure he is doing alright.” The being says to the familiar voice. Once the being had said, “son”, to the familiar voice, he now completely understood who also stood in the room. He wanted to reach out to her. The boy willed his muscles to move towards his mother and tell her he was okay and tell her about the creature and what it had done. The boy wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, happy his mother was here with him, so he didn’t have to be scared alone. Though the boy was also sad for her, because she had to see her son seemingly unconscious and thought he would actually want to leave her. Though the boy haden’t seen her much, apart from the family get together and parties, and the rare time they could manage to grab a coffee together, the boy loved her as much as he ever had, if not more. The boy remembered, while listening to the conversation, last night when he and his mother had last grabbed a drink together. He remembered how pleased he was that the creature had left sitting on her shoulders and now weakly trailed behind her. He was proud of his mother.
His mothers voice sniffed, and walked closer to the bed the boy lied on. She gently picked up the boys hand and held it in both of hers. The boy wasn’t sure if there was a seat beside him where the boys mother would be sitting or if she was standing.
“Why would he do it....” Her voice was no louder than that of a whisper, but the boy somehow managed to hear her quiet voice. He yearned to speak to her, to tell her he never would leave her and that he didn’t want to. The most he could manage was for a few tears to leave his eyes. The few tears rested in the corners of his eyes before they trickled down his check and landed on the matrice. The boy felt his mothers gentle hand wipe them away. She didn’t say anything, but the boy assumed she looked towards the being in hopes of answers.
The room was silent for a few moments. That was, until the beings voice broke the silence. “Some patients have claimed to be conscious while in their coma, though it could be his body reacting to the situation.” The being explained. Again, silence followed the doctors voice as the boys mother processed the information.
“This is all the poof I need. He is fine.” The boys mothers voice sounded more cheerful, more determined that her boy was going to be alright.
The being reminded her that it may just be a reaction of the body, but the boys mother shook her head at the being. “You also said some have claimed to be conscious. And I know my boy is.”
The boy was ecstatic. If he could, he would be joyfully laughing, screaming, “Yes! I am! I’m here!”
The being stayed with the mother for a little longer before stating if she needed him to just call, before exciting the room. The boys mother sighed. She started to talk to the boy about how she wished to spend more time with him, but she never wanted this to happen. Before the boys father passed, his mother was often always very talkative. When her loving husband did pass, it took her a long time to regain that extroverted part of herself. The boy and his brother would often joke about how their mother could talk to deaf ears for hours if she so pleased. And that’s the joke the boys mother brought up now, saying, “I guess now you are forced to listen to my silly rants.” She laughed to herself, and the boy craved to laugh with her. He had missed talking to his mother like this. Often when the boy would talk to his mother over the phone, he would be doing work, putting away the laundry, sometimes even playing video games. So he often never paid all his attention on her.
The boys mother started talking about how his aunt would be coming to see him later today, and how she might be bringing her children. A seven year old boy and a three year old girl. The boys mother said thinking out loud, “that might not be the best idea actually, considering the amount of machines they have in here....” His mother then continued to talk about all the machines the doctors had hooked up and into the boy.
Days passed like this. The boys mother would always hold his hand and talk to him, and the boy would always listen and try to move his muscles to the pleasant sound of her voice. She would always tell her son what the date was, she would describe how the sky looked, and the mother would always coax her son to move. Saying things like, “The sky looks beautiful today. Would you like to see it?” The boy would mentally grumble to himself and start a mental conversation with her is his head about how he couldn’t.
Than the boy woke up.
The time was 3:47am. The boys mother sat in a large hospital chair beside his bed. The boys body lurched up with the effects of a horrific nightmare still playing with his mind. Breathing heavily, it took a moment for the boy to realize what he was going. He wiped sweat from his brow and blinked a few times before smiling and offering a triumphant laugh to the nights silence. The boy was about to awake his sleeping mother, when he noticed a hunched up creature sitting like a gargoyle on a machine besides the door. It was about as large as a dog, and had a grotesque body. It picked itself up from its sitting postilion and loomed closer to the boy, frozen in place on his hospital bed. There was a small amount of moon light illuminating onto the bed, and when the creature walked into it the boy took a sharp intake of breath. Apart from the large, fang filled smile, D looked nothing like the boy had last seen him. He looked both fat and muscular, with a face now more closely resembling that of a bull dog rather than a cat. Long claws persecuted from its ugly short fingertips, threatening to cut through the blanket that lay over the boy. A ranced smell emerged from the creatures grotesque mouth as it parted its cracked lips and started to speak. Its voice sounded rough, as if D’s voice was the sound of nails on chalkboard and someone who hasen’t spoken in years. Which, was true since the boy had never heard D speak, or make a sound at all for that matter. And the two were always together.
“Do you have any idea what I am?” D plumped down his large body close to the boy, far enough to touch him if he wanted to. The boy slowly shook his head, watching the creature. D’s smile grew larger, and he leaned his face close to the boys. A flir of emotions surged through the boy. “I am your own personal demon. I am the dread that will follow you everywhere. I am the depression that will eventually end your life,” He snarled. “And there is no escape from me.”
The boys scream pierced the air, awakening the boys mother and sending doctors and nurses into the room. Of course, none of them noticed the content little creature sitting on a machine smiling at the boy as they tried to calm him down. Once the boy was breathing less panicky, his mother wrapped her arms around his shoulders and started to sob into the boys neck. It took a moment for the boys mind to register who was hugging him, but one he did he wrapped his arms around his mother as well, all the while keeping a constant eye contact with D. The boy tried to look courageous and brave, but his appearance still showed how frightful he was. This actions of the boys made D give him a false pitiful stare. “How brave.” the creature snickered.
“Why did you scream?” The boys mothers voice enters the boys ears, but doesn’t completely register yet as the boy continues to stare, to what seems to everyone else, a simple machine making beeping noises. “Honey...?” the boys mother looks where her son is looking, confused.
Than the boy looks at her. “Bad dream.” he says under his breath, but loud enough for her to just hear him.
The boy stayed in hospital for several more days before the doctors decided to let him go, however not before giving him pills for his depression and setting him up with an appointment with who they called, “I lovely therapist.” making sure to add, “I’m sure you’ll love her.” as the boy walked out of their care, a dark creature lumbering after him.
Months passed of the boy taking the pills and going to his therapist, and his creature slowly started to grow smaller and more angry throughout the months. The boy eventually met a beautiful girl who he married after a few years of them being together, and that is how my grandfather would end the story, on a happy note. It never really occurred to me than, but re-telling my grandfathers story it looks as if he left out different parts to it. Also, I’m slightly annoyed at myself for never taking the chance to ask him how he knew the story so well. Lately, the old man has been walking with a limp and acting as if he has more weight (literality) on his back than usual. The last time I talked to him, a few days now I think, he said a teary goodbye and wished me luck. I’m, not entirely sure with what. I think I’ll go see him tomorrow, and bring some of moms cookies she made. I’m sure him and his imaginary friend he is always going on about would enjoy that.
At the beginning of this story I told you how this story is real. And, you, the reader, must be asking how I know it isn’t just a story from a creative elder. Well, I know it isn’t, because I think I’m starting to see a little creature in the darkest corner of my room while I type this story.