It seems that the black eyed children play by old school vampire rules, and cannot enter without being invited. This first sighting spawned scores of similar stories, all describing encounters with children in outdated clothing with solid black eyes, always demanding to be let into a home or car. He also described an overwhelming sense of fear while simultaneously feeling compelled to do what the kids asked, catching himself reaching to unlock the doors for them. Requests turned to weird, not-so-reassuring statements, with the kids saying things like “we don’t have a gun” and “we can’t come in unless you tell us it’s okay.” The driver reported that at first glance the children appeared normal, but as they tried to persuade him to unlock the car, he realized their eyes were solid black, no visible pupils or irises. The story goes that a man in a parked car was approached by two children asking for a ride, growing increasingly insistent as he refused. “Just let us in.”īetter make a decision quick because the black eyed children are at your door.īlack eyed children are a modern myth, with the first sighting reported in 1996. His voice is flat, monotone, but it still somehow carries the weight of a threat. “We’re not dangerous or anything,” the other kid says. You want to recoil, but also feel the urge to open the door wider. “Do you have food for us? Let us in so we can eat.”Īs your eyes adjust to the dim light in the hall, you realize that their eyes are solid black, their skin unnaturally pale. You are starting to get the feeling that something is wrong, though you cannot put a finger on it. “What room do you need to find?” you ask again. “Please, just let us in,” the other says. “Are your parents here? Do you know what room you need to go to?” “Are you staying here in the inn?” you ask them. You open the door a crack, and your anger subsides a bit as you see two children, no more than ten years old, standing in the hall. You sigh and throw off the covers, ready to rain down hell on whoever is determined to interrupt your chance at a full night’s sleep. But the knocking continues, louder and more persistent. Who could even be at the door at this time of night? You try to ignore it, maybe someone has the wrong room and will move along. After weeks on the road you were eager for a night in a proper inn with a bed under a real roof, so the interruption is decidedly unwelcome. A gentle knocking jars you out of your sleep.
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