's 2015 Horror Write-off:

" They Watch Us "

Submitted by Sam Miller (


A gaunt shape. A big head. It clings to the walls above my bed, staring down at me with holes that go straight through its head, letting the meager light shine on through. Its featureless head constantly shudders and shakes. It has no idea I’m awake. I hold my breath and try to stay still. Its head shakes. Its head shakes. I make a slight movement, and the thing suddenly crawls back to my window and out of my room. What was it watching me for?


The bush next to where I am sitting in the park shudders. I put down the hot dog I was eating and lean over. The bush continues to shudder and shake and shudder and shake. I lean over to look at what is within the shrubbery. A flabby figure, with a face dominated by a wet eye. Its lashes shake with its body, as it squeaks and screeches in what I take to be happiness. I stand still for a moment before I shout at the thing and it jumps. Staring at me with the happy crying eye, it crawls off on all fours. Laughter. Laughter.


I look up at the window across the street. A person is standing at it. They are still in their movements, but their body just looks… Indistinct. Like it is shaking and shivering and cloudy yet still. Movement blur. Stillness. I get up and start to walk down the street, keeping contact with the person in the window. The head moves to follow me. I rush across the street to get a better look at the stranger, and then I see it. They have no face. All they have is a single, reddened nose. Sniffing.


Scrabbling. Muttering. Under my feet I hear noises. I look down, through the the gaps in the staircase. I see a something. This something is long, or tall. This something is empty in the eyes but with a mouth filled with teeth and muttered words. Its many feet all compete for purchase. Its eyes stare off in opposing directions. It slowly crawls down and down and down and down, almost like it is going down its own flight of stairs. Muttering. What was that?


The rushing of wind. Breathing on my back. I turn around. A fat wall of a thing, with two small nostrils just at the height of my neck. I ask it to go away. I ask it what the hell it was just doing. It breaths. Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out. I finally smack it straight on the nose, and it begins to breath very shallow breaths while crawling away. Whimpering?


Every morning I wake up with my arms and torso and legs and head covered from head to toe with gross liquid. This better be sweat. I don’t want to have to go to the doctor again for some weird fluid. Huh. Today there was a disgusting slimy trail going from my door to my bed. Wonder what did that.