The Faceless Man

The Faceless Man

The young boy turned in his bed and took note of the time on his digital clock, the soft red light of the digits illuminating his face. It was 3 am and he hadn't slept since he went to bed at 9pm the night before, he had tried but the nightmares he had suffered for the last 4 weeks still flashed their vivid and horrible images in his minds eye every time he closed his eyes.

He turned his head back to look at the ceiling, his back was pressed against his mattress and his arms by his side, he gave a sigh and looked around his room. 

His room had wooden panels on the walls, up to the ceiling, he looked at the wall opposite the clock which was about 6 feet from the bottom of his bed and the sheen on the wooden panels picked up some of the light from the digital clock, almost offering a halo of soft red light.

He shuddered and looked back at the white stucco ceiling, then he heard a sound, like a slight snapping sound, maybe a crack and it came from his right of his bed, by the window. 

He froze and held his breath, his body stiff as in death. He waited, terrified for what seemed like hours, then he heard it again, this time louder. Then it hit him, he knew what it was but it was after 3am and he lived miles from anywhere, no one could possibly be here causing that noise. 

john slowly pulled back the covers from his bed, revealing his favorite transformer pajamas that were so worn they looked paper thin, he waited, breath held, teeth biting into his lower lip and eyes tightly shut.

The noise again, louder this time and the crack filled the room and seemed to echo in the ears of john.

John moved his feet, rotating himself to get off of the bed, his legs felt so heavy, fear gnawed at his very being and his heart was beating so hard his head thumped with agony, slowly he moved his feet to the ground and felt the familiar softness of the carpet in his room. 

He looked toward the window, it was small and was made of two glass plates embedded in a frame about 4 feet by 3, each plate was about a foot wide and they both swung to the outside. 

He saw the flash of something, a stone maybe and heard the crack again, seated on the edge of his bed, his fingers squeezed the edge of his mattress until his fingers went white and a thick sense of terror went through his body, making each organ it touched jump. 

He heard a whisper, a soft whisper that sounded like his name as he reached to the window, he watched his hand slowly move to the window, shaking horribly, as though controlled by another, his throat took a long and involuntary gulp. 

The whisper again, this time more audible and louder, waves of terror flew through his body, ripples of insanity trying desperately to convince his mind to break. 

His hand moved, shaking and in slow motion, his reach had been exceeded and his body began to slowly move, he was about 6 inches from the latch when the room filled with a bright flash, shadows dissolved and he moved back quickly, shielding his young eyes. 

The small window to his room imploded with violence, shards of glass launched themselves to the opposite wall of the room, the frame splintered into tiny fragments. 

John found himself tangled in the sheets of his bed, his arms wrapped tightly around his head. The light had gone and he saw the wood panels by his bed, he moved his arms and slowly looked around the room.

John shot up on his bed, the covers still wrapped around his legs as he surveyed the room. 

He looked at the window and saw nothing, the window was intact, both glass panes where still there and the frame. The room was clean. 

He got off the bed and wondered if what had happened even happened at all, his hand reached out and touched the glass, his fingers moved down the smooth surface leaving a trail of sweat. 

His eyes moved down and he saw the appearance of a tall cloaked man. The mans face was fixed on his window but there was no face just a featureless white shape. He saw that the man was wearing a fedora, black with a black band that caught the moonlight, illuminating the right side. 

The trench coat of the man was also black, a soft illumination on the right side with buttons that caught the moonlight, creating small white halos. 

For a while he stared, terrified but fascinated at the same time until the man lifted a knotted and gnarled white hand as if to say goodbye then walked away from the house, dissolving into the darkness by the trees surrounding the property. 

Wonder and fascination overcame fear for a time, until he saw something to the right, something caught the moonlight wonderfully well. John focused, squinting his eyes and he saw what looked like tar that reflected a misshapen moon. 

Then, then he noticed something else, shapes nearby the tar that looked human. 

Slowly it clicked and an unimaginable horror and insanity swept over him, the tar was blood and the human shapes were his family.

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