Mostly Void

📅 Published on February 2, 2021

“Mostly Void”

Written by Rae Writes
Edited by Craig Groshek
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).

🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available

ESTIMATED READING TIME — 5 minutes

Rating: 7.33/10. From 3 votes.
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I don’t know why I’ve not been fully affected the same way my wife and child have. I don’t know why I can still remember, but I’m going to use what little time I have left to warn other people.

My wife and I have only one child; a pre-teen who has already decided she wants to be in politics; she wants to change the world… it’s a shame she won’t get to do that. I think she could have made a big difference.  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t resent her just a little; if it weren’t for her then we wouldn’t be in this position. My wife wouldn’t believe we have two children and my daughter wouldn’t believe she has a sister.

The knock at the door came after dark. Looking back I will swear to you that the thing which knocked had lain in wait for the night to draw in and the wind to get up.  I had opened the door; keeping the chain across so nobody could barge in.

A small frail voice had drawn my attention down whereupon I saw a ten-year-old girl with messy hair and ripped clothing, she wore no shoes and had dark circles under her downcast eyes. Her skin, though only lit by the porch light, was pale and had an odd appearance; almost pallid.

“Sir, I’m sorry for disturbing you…” she starts. I get a strange sick feeling; not just nauseous but sick to my very soul like the universe was telling me something was wrong. My head hurts and spins causing me to lean on the door frame which is where my daughter and wife find me.

“Dad?” Molly asks worried and moves closer, soon seeing the young homeless-looking girl.

“Could I come in, please? It’s so cold out here, and I have nowhere to go,” the girl continues.

I don’t get a chance to say no before Molly – the well-meaning, world-changing apple of my eye – has opened the door and let the girl in.  My wife, Rachel, closes the door and helps me back into the living room where I sit, holding my head.  After minimal discussion and simply being spoken at by Rachel, I relent and agree it’s probably a migraine before downing some headache pills and going to bed.

I wish I had stood my ground. I wish I had spoken up. I wish…

By the next morning, I felt like I was in the twilight zone or something similar – some real children of the corn shit.

The homeless-looking girl was now dressed in some of Molly’s clothes, she was clean and her pale skin looked less… dead… than the previous night, but now in good lighting, I noticed something I had completely missed the night before – Her eyes were black.  I don’t just mean the pupil or iris; I mean the entirety of both her eyes were black.  There was no depth to the blackness of her eyes; no light marks, no shine… just a void.

Molly bounced down the stairs and smiled. “Morning, Dad!”

I nod and offer a small wave, still not feeling one hundred percent “morning…”

“Could you drop me and Lilly off at the mall today please?”

I blink. The confusion on my face must have been obvious as Molly tilts her head. “Did your migraine affect you that badly? I’ve never known them to make you forgetful!”

“I…. uh…” I open and close my mouth like a goldfish. “Lilly?”

“C’mon dad, not funny!” The other girl speaks up.

“Dad? I’m not your dad…” I frown and wait for the punchline. It comes but it’s not what I was expecting as Rachel admonishes me for saying something ‘so cruel’.

“Grab your things, girls. I’ll take you to the mall.” Rachel shoots me a glaring look I’d never seen before that leaves me even more confused than before.

The door slams shut and I look around the quiet living room. I notice only briefly something different which makes me double-take all of our family pictures.  There in our holiday 2019 photo taken in a cheesy Santa’s grotto was an extra girl.  Then in the Easter picture, she was there again.  This child wasn’t just placed in; she was happily interacting with the three of us as if she had always been there – as if she wasn’t out of place.

That day started our downfall; though only I could see the changes happening and if I ever brought up the subject of things being different or ‘Lilly’ acting oddly, I was quickly shut down by Rachel.  Molly grew to quietly hate me – once a close father-daughter team who enjoyed camping in the woods and heading out to buy comics – now she ignored me and barely spoke two words.

It was after a couple of months when I was in the bathroom readying myself for a shower that I took a good long hard look at myself in the mirror.  Not to sound conceited, but I hadn’t been bad looking – my hair was always thick, I didn’t have much muscle but my body didn’t look terrible; I took care of myself.  I barely recognized the reflection staring back at me; thin greying hair, saggy skin, wrinkles, dry lips, liver spots, dark circles under my eyes. I had aged ten years almost.  Opening the bathroom door I look at my wife; my love, my one and only who I will always find so beautiful. Her skin was pale, her hair was lank and dry. Her once plump lips were thin, her bright emerald green eyes now held no sparkle of life and she looked at me as if she didn’t know me.

Over the next few days, I took more notice of Molly and Lilly.  Lilly who once resembled a ten-year-old homeless girl not three months ago now looked like a healthy fifteen-year-old teenager.  Molly looked tired and withdrawn, her eyes wouldn’t meet mine for long, and for the few seconds they did, I felt my heart almost stop.  That same void space, that same lifeless and soulless black filled her eyes.

I spent what time I could researching because I knew this wasn’t normal. I knew I had to try something. It became clear early on that there was no hope; that the moment you let one of them into your home you’re as good as done for.  Black-eyed kids are no joke.

It’s been here in my home for seven months now and writing this out has been exhausting.  Rachel passed a week ago; at least as close as she can get without crossing.  The physician says he’s never seen anything like this before; all tests point to her being brain-dead, which should shut down her organs and let her be at peace… but somehow she’s breathing and her heart is still moving her blood.

Molly and Lilly went missing three days ago. The police say they’re looking for Molly but since there are no pictures of Lilly now, they’re suspicious as to if she even existed.  I checked every photo album, every holiday picture and Polaroid. Me, Rachel and Molly. No sign of Lilly anywhere – no matter how much I insisted, no matter the descriptions I gave they just implied I was a senile old man who was confused because the 37-year-old man in those pictures couldn’t possibly be the 81-year-old before them.

There’s a car sat out the front of my house and they follow me when I have the energy to leave the house to try and find my daughter.

I have that same nauseous feeling I did the first night. I can feel her near and I think she’s coming to finish off what she started… so I want there to be a written record of what happens when you let a BEK into your home.

You can dismiss this as the crazy ramblings of an old man if you wish but I sincerely hope you don’t. I hope you listen. I hope you don’t let them in. Never let the black-eyed kids inside…

I can hear the knocking at the door. I know I shouldn’t, but I’m going to let her in. I want to see her one last time before she disappears into the night with Lilly to trick some other person or family.

Don’t. Ever. Trust. Them.

Rating: 7.33/10. From 3 votes.
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🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available


Written by Rae Writes
Edited by Craig Groshek
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

🔔 More stories from author: Rae Writes


Publisher's Notes: N/A

Author's Notes: N/A

More Stories from Author Rae Writes:

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Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).

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