About: House of the Eyes   Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

We've all had irrational fears in the past, it's a part of life. But some irrational fears can turn out to actually be quite rational after all... Hi. I'm recalling the one time in my life I played the game. I refuse to state my name so as to remain anonymous, so I'll just refer to myself as Bug. That's what all my friends call me. There's a reason behind this nickname which ties along to the story I'll tell you. Now how is this relevant? Well I'll tell you. Well, I shouldn't say WE, considering I was the first idiot to actually make that stupid mistake. This is where we begin. No one spoke.

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  • House of the Eyes
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  • We've all had irrational fears in the past, it's a part of life. But some irrational fears can turn out to actually be quite rational after all... Hi. I'm recalling the one time in my life I played the game. I refuse to state my name so as to remain anonymous, so I'll just refer to myself as Bug. That's what all my friends call me. There's a reason behind this nickname which ties along to the story I'll tell you. Now how is this relevant? Well I'll tell you. Well, I shouldn't say WE, considering I was the first idiot to actually make that stupid mistake. This is where we begin. No one spoke.
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dbkwik:creepy-past...iPageUsesTemplate
dbkwik:creepypasta...iPageUsesTemplate
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  • We've all had irrational fears in the past, it's a part of life. But some irrational fears can turn out to actually be quite rational after all... Hi. I'm recalling the one time in my life I played the game. I refuse to state my name so as to remain anonymous, so I'll just refer to myself as Bug. That's what all my friends call me. There's a reason behind this nickname which ties along to the story I'll tell you. Ever since probably elementary school, I've been willing to do anything for ten dollars. And you're probably thinking, "Yeah, that's so original kid. It's not like anyone else has done that before!" Well shut up! I was the only kid at my school who ever did, and I was accepted for it! I ate bugs for money, I chewed gum under the benches. All the gross shit that you'd expect a sicko like me to do I did. And that's how they started calling me "Bug." Now how is this relevant? Well I'll tell you. When I was about 17 and a Junior in high school, some kids had started to mess around with this one house. It's a house that's been around for probably 15 years or so, and for the most part, it's been ignored like it should have been. People were so creeped out by the story behind it that they usually stayed as far away from it as possible. Aside from the few rebellious teens who sought out to impress their peers, most everyone did. But my age group, as I'm sure you're aware of, are a bunch of drug-induced, narrow-minded, sex crazed assholes! And pretty much all of them, including myself, were too young to know the full story of the house, so we just didn't care! Mostly, whenever there was something involving the house, it was just kids going over into the entrance room to have sex, we knew better than going into the living room. Well, I shouldn't say WE, considering I was the first idiot to actually make that stupid mistake. This is where we begin. It was the lunch hour at school on a nice, October day. I think it was Thursday, but I can't exactly remember for sure. I was hanging out with the normal kids I talk to, which I guess could be classified as the popular kids. I'm pretty sure they didn't actually think I was cool, I was just the kid who did stupid shit that entertained them. I didn't care. No one else thought I was cool anyway, so I took what I could get. This one jock asshole and his cheerleader girlfriend of like, less than a week were bragging about how they'd been "gettin down an dirty" at the old house. I tried to tune it out at first, but they just wouldn't shut up about it! So finally, I stepped up and said, "You two are so cool! Well I'm gonna beat your little fuck session! I'll stroll into the living room and come out completely unharmed!" This caught everyone's attention. Not just the cool kids, but everyone. You should've been there, it was like someone had just shot the President. Nobody said a word. They all just stared at me, giving the kind of glare a person would at a person who's just been cursed. Finally, one of the guys from the cool kids stood up. He was actually a pretty legit person, I didn't mind him at all. He stared at me for a second before he opened his mouth. A few words squeezed their way out. "Are. You. Fucking. Nuts?!" I just laughed and answered him. "Do you think I am? Maybe I am! That just puts me on a whole new level above you all!" He just shook his head. "I can't believe it. You can NOT be this fucking stupid!" "Well how about this, why don't you come with me? I'll show you that it's not as bad as you all think!" He shut up for a moment. Everyone looked back and forth between me and him. Finally, I got an answer out of him. "O-okay..." he stuttered. There was a loud crash almost instantly after he said that. Everyone looked at where it was coming from, and it turned out to be a janitor who'd thrown his cart over in shock. He looked over at us, this balding man, with a beard which was slowly graying from black and reached down to just above his breast. He had one good eye which was an eerie green, and the other was just blind. He glared at us with his green eye and spoke in a deep, graveled tone. "Did I just hear right of someone going into the House of the Eyes?" That caught us. We'd never heard that name before. "The eyes?" asked one of the party kids. He nodded. "'S right. The Eyes. Don't tell me you kids are plannin' on goin' into that dreaded house an don't even know the whole story behind it!" No one responded to that. "Yer jus' a bunch of lil' ones aren't ya? You don't know whatcher gettin into! If you lil' shits are gonna go out an be a bunch of morons, I migh' as'well tell you wha' happened!" "It was about 16 years ago... back when you was all babies. There was a small house in the middle o' town. It weren't a fancy house, if anything it was a piece o' shit hut! The family who lived in there didn know how to take care of their house, so it was always a mess! The grass was long, the roof leaked, and it was very badly faded. The man o' the house was an alcoholic who beat his wife and child. He was a stringy man who was very involved in drugs and drinking and remained unemployed for all the time he lived here! "His wife was a big beefy woman who yelled at everyone who passed their home. The only one people ever really remembered was the one they all forgot. "T'was a young boy, prolly 'round yer ages! He went to school here an all, I remember him clear as day! He had this long, stringy hair that went down to his ass, he wore the same clothes daily, an he never bathed. In all the time he went here, no one said a word to 'I'm, an I'm sure I never heard him say a damn thing. "Well one day, he just never showed up for school. No one really noticed at first, but eventually a day turned into a week, an a week turned into two. That was when the newspaper had his obituary. A suicide it was, and even though the paper said what'd happened, his parents still tried to hush it up, and there was no memorial service. Soon after, the house grew quite and it seemed like no one was there anymore. Some thought they moved, but after a while, it was proven what had happened. Murder. "There was no suspect. There was no verdict. The case is still a mystery to this day. "Sometimes though, you can hear arguing coming from outside the house. But that's not the scary thing. When some investigators went in to check it out and found the bodies in the living room, they felt a presence. It was like someone was in the room with them, but not a word was spoken. They couldn' move, they could only dread what was gonna happen. "Eventually, they all got out, but they were stuffed into mental homes from what happened, and all they could say were two words. 'The eyes...'" No one spoke. "Don't say I didn't warn you." and he left. When he was gone, the room remained silent for a minute before I broke it with my abrupt laughter. Someone needed to break the tension, and who better than good ol' Bug? "So, tonight at 9?" This was my first mistake. At 9 that night, there was a huge group of high schoolers standing outside the "House of the Eyes". I strolled up to them, seeing how my friend was with our normal group of people by the door. I brought my usual "Pay-up" box with. What? I wasn't gonna do it and not expect a little reward! "Alright! Everyone, $20 in the box! $10 for me, and $10 for my friend here who's brave enough to run this house with me!" Everyone paid, and a few people even gave us hugs, like they were never going to see us again. We had collected close to $500 total in the box. We were ready to go in. I took the first step onto the walkway to the door. At that moment, I could already feel something overcoming me. I know my friend could feel it too. Even to this day, I regret that I kept walking. And even more so that I let him walk with me. We walked into the house, and the stench was horrible. It was apparent no one had gone in there to clean. Aside from the smell of rotting wood and dead rats that lay inside, there was the lingering sent of sex and death. A pile of used condoms lie on the floor several feet from the door, and a small cum stain lay near them. I never got the big deal about sex, and I still don't. I'm a virgin, and I had planned on keeping it that way for a while. After all that, I knew I wouldn't have any problem keeping that promise. We braved the odor of misery and dread and made our way to the living room. Along the whole wall, there lay one picture. It was the kid's school picture. I'm not gay or anything, but even I know, he wasn't the most attractive person you'd ever see. The presence became even stronger. I felt just as much as he did the urge to turn back and give up. But we had to keep going. Soon, we were outside the door to the living room, and the burning desire to turn back and go home burned even stronger than earlier. I stopped thinking at that point. I just grabbed the door handle and pushed it open. The room was empty. Completely empty. We walked in like it was nothing and felt confident in ourselves that we had accomplished this. That's when it all turned around. My friend looked back towards the door and his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. "B-b-bug....." he choked out. "Yes?" I said while turning around. The moment my eyes swept upon what he glared at my heart dropped down to the bottom of my stomach. The door.... was gone. There wasn't even a sign that it ever existed. When we noticed it was gone, the presence was back... but even stronger than ever. We slowly turned around again, only to be greeted by a pair of small, beady green eyes. Standing right in the middle of this torn up, smelly living room, was this pair of eyes, that had the most torn up body ever attached to it. He wouldn't stop staring at us, and we couldn't help but to stare back. We waited. We knew something was going to happen. We just didn't know when. This was definitely the kid the Janitor talked about, but a few things didn't make sense to me. He was dead! And this kid looked too real to be a ghost! And too alive to be a zombie! I realized now why the house was called what it was. It wasn't the kid who haunted it. It was the Eyes! My friend started to freak out. Neither of us could move or look away, so he just began to mumble and twitch around. "Bug...." he whispered, waiting for him to attack. The room didn't help at all. It was completely silent. The only thing to be heard was our organs doing their work, and that made it much, much worse. My friend's mumbling turned into screaming and panic. I remember exactly what he said when his words came out clear. "BUG. BUG. I'M FUCKING FREAKING OUT BUG. IT'S THE EYES. THE FUCKING EYES!!! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!!!" I then watched innocently as he proceeded to grip onto his own eyeballs and rip them out of their sockets. Soon after, he dropped to the floor in pain and began to bang his head onto the ground. Blood, flesh, bone shard, and brain matter flew everywhere every time he hit his head. I knew this wasn't the work of the Eyes either. This was my friend's own doing. He twisted his bloody and disfigured head towards me once before he died. Between sobs of pain and fear, he choked out, "The Eyes are with us forever Bug." I then knelt down and held him, screaming for my own life. I looked around and the door was back, but when I looked around again, the Eyes was standing directly above me. Before I could suffer the same fate as my friend, I busted down the door, bolted out, and ran straight home, ignoring everyone else who was outside waiting for me and my friend. The next morning, my parents checked me into the nearest mental institution. I'd heard what had happened. My friend's body was found hanging from a tree outside his own house by his entrails, left exactly the way he was when he died. I couldn't stand to even talk about it. I still dream about him. I dream about the eyes. They won't leave me alone. They follow me everywhere. What the hell can I do about it?! I want it to stop but it won't! God! Why the hell did I even start talking about it?! It's just making everything worse again! JUST STAY AWAY FROM THAT DAMN HOUSE. PLEASE!!!! NO ONE SHOULD HAVE TO DEAL WITH THAT. EVER. Just please.... Don't go into the house.
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