's 2015 Horror Write-off:

" The Man in My Eye "

Submitted by Dustin & Adam Koski (

Four months ago I was completely blinded in my left eye. It’s the result of when two of a cop’s kids next door were playing with the gun he hadn’t bothered to put away properly. They shot a round through a window, across our yards, through my wall, and into the eye where it destroyed my optic nerve in the socket so completely that they said they couldn’t even put one of those new bionic eyes in there.

I don’t want anyone’s pity anymore. I got way more than I ever needed after that and, odd as it might sound, for a while after the shooting everything else went great for me. I got good medical coverage, no infections, things went fine at work while I was away and better when I came back, and a few investments I had made began to pay off in a big way. Things were “looking up.”

That ended two months ago.

I’d gone two months of what had been the left side of my vision just not being there and was getting used to it. But slowly I became aware there was a small, faint white patch in otherwise pure blackness. I was optimistic enough that I believed it meant that somehow, by some miracle or something, my vision was coming back. I took out the glass eye. Of course there was no change in my “vision” in that socket. Just a white spot in void. I didn’t even intend to tell anyone, since it seemed so benign it was bound to go away soon.

It didn’t. It grew so slowly that even though it never left my line of sight, it took a week for it to become clear what I was seeing. It was the pure white face of a man appearing as if he were emerging from pitch darkness into the beam of a spotlight aimed straight down. If I had ever seen this face before, I didn’t recognize it. It was another week before the entire pale face could be seen, including ears and the top of his scalp. He was bald, had no eyebrows, and was wrinkled like a middle-aged man who’d lived a hard life. His eyes were jet black. He looked utterly malevolent, his lips curled in a hideous sneer, his eyes glaring in fury. This expression did not change ever after weeks and weeks. As time went on, the face grew in size from my point of view, seemingly coming closer.

I told family, friends, psychologists and doctors about this. I had not been losing my mind, I had not been under inordinate stress that would cause me to hallucinate. Blood tests, CAT scans, psych tests, you name them. All of them have told me that there’s no reason I should be seeing this face with an eye that no longer functioned. I’m seeing it all the same.

It doesn’t matter what my other eye is seeing or what my mood is, it’s there. Except at first when I was dreaming. That was my only relief from actually seeing that face, and naturally that went away. Who could look at something all day without dreaming about it? I’ve imagined all sorts of things a person who looked at me with such hate for so long would do to me.

The face has come so close that it fills most of what my left eye would be able to see. I can see the pores on the face, the tiny wrinkles in its eyelids. It’s a confrontational distance, actually close enough that it should be blurred if I saw it with my normal vision. Why is it approaching me? Is it just because I can “see” it? Does it need a reason? Has this been happening to anyone else? Is it the beginning of something new and widespread that no one would believe unless they saw it coming themselves?

Well, I don’t care about finding those answers any more. I haven’t slept for days. I haven’t felt alone and safe for weeks. But I’ve got an idea. The eye itself was destroyed, but there’s still that optic nerve back there that connects to the brain. I know I will not be able to get a surgeon to help me with this. What I intend to do may be, no, is irrational and dangerous. But if it means not having to see that face ever again, one way or another, then I’m only hesitating long enough to write about this so people will understand what I was thinking if it goes wrong. I’ll let you know soon, I hope.


It was painful and hard, but I did it. I went in with a heated length of wire after numbing my face as much as I could and burned away all the nerve. At first it didn’t work. I had to go far and deep. And slowly, gradually, I could no longer see the face. I explained it away to the hospital as a stupid welding accident and for a time, I was happy again as I recuperated.

Then it came, the feeling of fingers on my neck. They’ve begun to squeeze. Slowly, ever so slowly they’re tightening. The skin on my neck has turned white, as it does when you press something against it. It’s becoming harder and harder to breathe. I can feel not only the fingertips along the front of my neck like normal hands. I feel other, very different fingers. Ones which wrap all the way around. Longer than any human’s.

I have an appointment with the doctor soon, but I already know they won’t be able to provide an explanation. I’m sure some of you think I’m insane for what I was willing to do to my eye, but something like that with neckt... I don’t think I could bring myself to do it. But maybe I’ll find the strength for that when trying to breathe becomes unbearable. I have the tools I’d use ready just in case.