When I was 16, My mother was promoted as one of the head architects in her firm. The job came with a huge pay increase with the promise of a larger pay raise if her first few projects. My parents decided that it didn’t make sense to stay living in a cramped city apartment with all of this money coming in. We moved about a mile and a half away in the suburbs a few months after, in August. Boy, couldn’t I tell you how exciting it was. I was sick of living in my old apartment. I could feel the tight walls suffocating me. But this was different. Our new home was a two story house with a large backyard. My dad even said “Hell, if your mother gets that pay raise next March, we’ll be able to get a pool built!”.
We loved our new house. My sister and I had separate rooms now, instead of having to share a studio room. I can’t tell you how much of a relief it was to know I wasn’t going to run into her underwear every time I went to bed! My dad had a big studio where he could do his experiments with electronics and my mother had all the garden space she could ever need to start growing her vegetable garden. A few days after moving day, we had practically settled in. Our furniture was set, the china was all put away in the cupboards, and that’s when we noticed it.
I was the first to notice it: one of the smaller windows facing the garden in our living room was different. The glass was pitch black. It was funny that we didn’t notice it before. But there it was. My first thought is that the last residents had painted it black for whatever reason. I called Dad over and he thought pretty much the same. We got some paint thinner, a few buckets of water, and two sponges to clean up the paint. We went outside to get the paint off only to be mesmerized. When we got to the window, there was nothing to clean. We could see inside without any trouble. Now we were scratching our heads. Dad assumed that this was some kind of elaborate prank made by the last residents. “They must have used some kind of polarized film to coat the window” he explained. That was a comfort. Dad was a skilled technician and always made weird gadgets with all of these materials and equipment very few lay people could even pronounce. If anyone was able to get an explanation for this, it was him. When Mom came home, we explained the whole thing to her. She laughed in curiosity when she saw what Dad called “ultra-fixated polarized film”. We didn’t make much of it after that for a while. It was when we got the window replaced that we began to get scared.
There It was, in the new window. Pitch black. We tried with six different brands of glass. Nothing worked. The black still remained there. I could see my dad grow paler and paler after another window was installed and still showed nothing but black. There was literally no explanation for it! We looked to see if there was anything, and I mean ANYTHING that could have cast a shadow on the window, any kind of thing that could have made that blackness appear on every glass window we installed. Nothing. We found no possible explanation. We stopped going into the living room for a while. Dad spent all of his spare time researching paranormal phenomena in shady homemade websites. Sometimes I’d stare at it for a few minutes. Its presence was disturbing. Blackness as Black as pitch. Void. Emptiness. I didn’t stare at it too long at a time as I was afraid it would swallow a part of me. One day, however, I was brave. I decided that I was tired of simply staring at it. I HAD to open the window; stop it’s power over me. I slowly crept to it. Placed both hands under the window frame and pulled up. My skin grew pale. My head became light as I fell backwards. The window was open, but the black was still there. I yelled for Mom and Dad to come. When they saw it, they could only stare in shocked awe. None of us deiced to go near the window after that.
Since that day, the air in our home felt thick. It felt strangely still like jelly whenever a breeze came in from outside. Nights became arduous for all of us. We had trouble sleeping. We had this feeling that something was wrong with reality. We couldn’t put a finger on it, but it lingered like the stench or garbage. People never stayed in our home for more than an arduously chilling little while, never to come back. While no one else noticed the blackness in the window, we weren’t the only ones who felt the thick, cursed air. We tried to move out, but my parents had to sell the home first, but anyone who came into our home was offset by something. Bad mojo, some called it in emails and phone calls that again and again ended with Dad hanging up the phone, looking up and saying “dammit…” in a whisper. This felt like a curse. We wanted to leave, but couldn’t. After 2 months, this home of ours was our jail cell.
The problems didn’t end there. The air affected us. We started to have nightmares more constantly. We all dreamed of murder and rape and mutilations of people like they were animals. We started to fight with each other over the smallest things. My parents got in a huge fight over the milk Mom bought being 2% instead of skim like Dad asked her to. They began to fight almost every day. Some fights sounded like Dad was going to beat Mom. My sister would fight with Mom over her school work, then she would disappear for days on end, claiming to be at a friends house. She brought a different boyfriend home almost every other week. I started to grow nauseous during my meals and almost stopped eating altogether except for the occasional salad after midnight. I stopped eating meat. My nightmares made me retch at the sight of meat. I lost a lot of weight. I rarely left my room. We never saw each other anymore. Dad would leave home one night and come days later with deep eye bags and smelling of liquor. Mom would cry and yell at him, accusing him of having an affair. He once got so angry after coming home, he forced himself on Mom. When she pushed him back, he gave her a black eye and left again for a week. She cried for the whole night. I didn’t leave my room. I could only hear her crying, but I was too scared to go down the stairs. I found my sister crying in the kitchen when I came back from school the next day. She was pregnant, and Mom stormed out of the house when she told her. When she did come back, it was only to start screaming at my sister. The whole time, the black window was still there, emitting it’s cursed vibe to every inch our of home. I left the house. I had to walk a bit to ease my nerves. I saw that mom had left the hose unraveled in the garden. I picked it up and pulled it to it’s place, next to the living room windows. That’s when I saw the cursed glass. I could still see indoors through it. I peered in. every hair on my back stood up.
What I saw was grotesque. I saw things moving all over my living room. Worm-like beings several feet long squirming all over the floor. Pulsating blobs of flesh hanging on the ceiling, secreting a white slime that fell a few inches and then levitated, then found it’s way around the rooms of the house. I saw several men with the heads of goats and the skin of lizards. Their bodies were mere skin and bone. They were bobbing their heads in a circle while my sister and Mom were yelling at each other. They seemed to…. the seemed to gather nourishment from the screams and anger. One of the goat men picked up a worm from the floor and put it next to Mom’s ear, it then scrambled to get it. After a few seconds, a worm longer than me managed to squirm it’s way into Mom’s ear. She then grew angrier and more violent against my sister. All of the monsters in the room bobbed their heads faster, and started chanting in a strange language. The blobs of flesh then started to secrete more white slime, which surrounded my sister as she began crying harder and harder until she was bawling. I finally understood what the blackness was. It was a gateway to an evil place. These monsters…. they fed on our anger and hatred. They were nourished by our anxiety and pain. They thrived on our rage and resentment. These were parasites from another world. They came into our home and they made themselves a nest which we could not see.
Half on me did not believe what I had just seen. The other half found it obvious. But whether or not this was real, my reaction was out of panic. I ran to the garage and got the two emergency gas tanks Dad kept in case of bad weather emergencies. I ran inside and started dousing the living rooms and kitchen. Mom started to scream “what are you doing?! What the fuck are you doing?!” I yelled to both Mom and my sister to leave the house. I was going to burn the whole place down. I doused the stairs and the upper hallway, then ran down to get matches from the kitchen. At this point, my teeth were rattling. I was no longer thinking. All I could do is watch as my body went into the living room, lit a match, and threw it at the floor. A flame exploded, and spread in a matter of seconds. I ran out of the house and passed out. When I came to, Dad was slapping my cheeks to bring me back. “he’s okay!” he yelled, with tears or relief running down his cheek. I was in a hospital bed. Apparently, the panic I had was too much of a shock for my body, and it gave in.
Three years have passed since I burned down our house. Mom and Dad saw a marriage counselor for a while and their relationship went back to normal after a few months. My sister had a baby girl, and we all moved into an apartment inside the city shortly before she married and left for college. One thing hasn’t changed, though: we NEVER open any windows.
Credit To – The cult of Kalkamyd