The Sightless Slaughterer

I-is this recording? Is it on? Okay, uh... I don't know why I'm doing this, or why I waited so long. It isn't like I want to remember these things, but I feel like others deserve to know. I feel you all at least deserve a warning. But to be honest, I really don't want to talk about this. I wish I could say it was just a bad dream, but then I'd be lying, because the pain I felt was all too real. Um, I should...I should just start from the beginning. 
This happened about four or three months ago back when I'd come home from college for Spring Break. Most people my age would probably have gone to the beach or whatnot, but I was eager to get home and see my parents and friends, who I hadn't seen since I left the previous year. It was a fairly small and quiet little community I lived in, I guess you could call it a Mayberry of some sort. Everyone knew each other and got along like peas in a pod. Crime always seemed to be at a low and nothing really happened, so anytime something did happen, it was bound to be talked about. That's why when the news of a serial killer having been spotted in the area struck, everyone talked about it. I'd showed up just around the time when everyone was talking about it, and at first I just thought it was the typical kind of gossip, you know, that usually wasn't true or whatever. But then I saw the report on the news, which practically confirmed the whole deal.
Now most people knew me as a pretty paranoid person. I could never go anywhere by myself, especially at night, heck I even had trouble walking back to my dorm room alone. My parents knew this, and it just so happened the very week I'd gotten back, they had been planning to leave on a second honeymoon-type of getaway, and were a little wary of leaving me home alone. I didn't want to ruin things for them, so I assured them I was a big girl now and could take care of myself. So they reluctantly left, but made me promise I'd lock all the doors and windows at night so I'd be okay. I promised, but even if I hadn't I'd still lock the doors, I wasn't the type to leave them unlocked anyways.
The day after they left, I invited my best friend Becky over for a sleepover. I hadn't talked to her all that much since I got started with college, aside from the usual Skype and Facebook methods of chatting, but it wasn't the same as talking in person and plus, my studies usually kept me pretty busy. Now she was actually quite the horror fanatic, and lived in a slightly different neighborhood than me. We spent some time up in my room chatting for a bit, she kept trying to bring up the whole serial-killer thing with me but I made it known I didn't wanna talk about it. She accused me of being a wimp, but I just laughed and brushed it off. After we ended up conversation, we went downstairs to pick a movie to watch. I made the mistake of letting her pick, and she ended up deciding on Halloween. She insisted it was appropriate, but I didn't know why she was treating this like it was a holiday. Still, she was my guest, and my friend, so I didn't complain. 
While she started the movie, I was in the kitchen getting some popcorn ready. I also had some music playing on the radio, just to drown out the noises from the television, and was tuned in with one of the songs, humming along as I waited for the popcorn to finish popping. My concentration was suddenly broken as a sudden loud scream broke through the air. I jumped, and ran straight into the living room, where Becky sat with a somewhat-freaked out look on her face. I asked what had happened, she said she didn't know. It hadn't been her that had screamed. At first I thought it had just been the movie but it wasn't even at the scary part yet. After calming down, I went back to the kitchen and got the popcorn. We decided it had probably just been the wind, since it had been blowing furiously that night. 
When the movie finished, we ended up going to bed. The next morning Becky had to go home, so I walked out to her car with her, caught up in a bit of a rushed conversation. That's when we noticed the police cars and the ambulance next door. This alarmed me a little bit, I knew the people who lived next door. It was a sweet older couple, with daughter about twelve, thirteen years old I think, and two little boys. I'd met them before at a couple of neighborhood parties, they were pretty nice people.
As a concerned neighbor, I decided to go over and find out what happened. So while Becky drove off, I walked down the sidewalk until I was front of the other house. I saw the mother, she was sitting on the porch, crying, while her husband sat next to her. It didn't sound like the normal kind of cry, it sounded almost... heartbroken. 
Before I could even approach them and ask what was going on, the front door opened and one by one, some paramedics came out hauling three bodies on stretchers. Then I remembered last night. That scream hadn't been the wind. 
Horrified, all I could do was quickly offer my condolences and rush back to my house, making sure all the doors and windows were firmly locked. Sure, it was daytime, and horror movie logic said that killers never struck in the daytime, but try telling that to my over-thinking brain. I didn't want to take any chances. 
Still shaken from what I'd seen, I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and turned on the TV, hoping to find some good old morning cartoon to take my mind off of things. But every channel seemed to be interrupted by a news broadcast, talking about the recent murders in my neighborhood. The reporter said that the parents had been out that night at dinner and hadn't come home until later. The house had been dark and quiet when they got back, so they assumed the kids had just gone to bed. They hadn't known what had really happened until that morning, when the mother had gone upstairs to wake them all up for breakfast, and had found their bodies hanging from the ceiling. According to her, their eyes had been completely removed, nothing but bloody sockets left, and their stomachs looked to have been slashed open, all intestinal organs littered in a sloppy pile beneath them. 
Just hearing this made me barf up a bit of my cereal. I quickly changed the channel and was thankful to find a station that wasn't broadcasting the news events, but I didn't have the stomach to finish my breakfast. I'd known those kids, they'd never hurt anybody. In fact, I'd seen them outside playing with the family dog the other day, they'd been so happy. Who would be so heartless to take a child's life from them? Something told me, however, if the parents had been home, they might have suffered the same fate as their children.
I was supposed to have gone shopping with Becky that day, but I cancelled out last minute, saying I wasn't feeling well, instead asking if I could come over to her house that night for another sleepover to make up for it. She was okay with it, and I was grateful. I didn't want to be alone, especially with the fact that this supposed serial killer had just killed the kids next door. What if I was next? There was no way I was going to take that risk.
Much to my dismay, Becky ended up picking out another horror movie to watch when I went over to her house. Luckily I had my phone with me so I just watched videos on my Youtube app until it was over with, so after the movie was done, we talked for a little bit and then went to bed. My mind was completely uneasy the whole time, however, but I tried not to worry. I was in a completely different neighborhood and I had nothing worry about.
When I got home the next day, I walked into the house to find it in a bit of an untidy state. I hadn't remembered leaving it like that, and I was suddenly scared. Within a flash I had called the police and they'd showed up. I'd chose to remain out of the house while they investigated, and didn't go back in until I got the okay. They told me it had probably just been a botched robbery, but I knew they were just lying so they wouldn't have to worry me. I'd known what had really happened. The killer had been in my house, but I hadn't been there, so he'd just left. I could have been killed. I could have ended up like those kids next door. 
As that chilling realization came over me, I definitely did not want to be alone the next night either. I knew he could come back, I knew I could still be in danger, and even though I constantly told myself not to worry about it, it did me no good. Thankfully Becky agreed to coming over, despite acting annoyed about it. This time I opted to watch something other than a horror movie, and she went along with it once she saw how nervous I was acting. I needed to set my mind at ease somehow, I thought a Disney movie might help.... I did manage to calm down eventually... even starting to forget about my worries for a little bit, as Becky made some sort of joke regarding a line a character said, and I giggled at it. I began to let my guard down... but I wish I hadn't.
Halfway through the film, the power suddenly went out, the TV shutting off and the entire room going dark. My paranoia shot back and I nearly screamed, but then I reminded myself that the power going out was normal in this neighborhood, you could expect a blackout at least once a month here. Now there were two options, we could wait until morning and have the power guy come take a look at it, but I wasn't willing to spend the entire night in a dark house. The second option, which would be the easier and obvious choice, would be to go to the fuse box and flip a few switches until the power came back on. But see, the fuse box was on the backside of my house, and there was no possible way I was gonna go outside now.
Becky called me a big baby and decided she would do it. Grabbing a flashlight, she unlocked the back door and went out, leaving me alone in the still-dark living room. I hugged my knees to my chest and just sat there the whole time, shivering every now and then. I knew I should have gone with her, I knew that I was just putting myself out as fishbait just sitting here, but I didn't know what else to do. My first instinct was always to panic, and then act. An act that could possibly get me killed, and I didn't want that.
After about five minutes, I realized Becky hadn't come back yet. Instead of allowing myself to sit there and worry any longer, I pulled myself off the couch and walked out the back door, onto the deck and down the steps, where I found the flashlight at the bottom. Still frightened, I picked it up and forced myself to take a step forward, my bare feet scratching against the rough grass. I called out for Becky, my voice quivering, but she didn't answer. An ear-piecing scream caused me to whirl around and drop the flashlight. 
As I bent over to pick it up, I heard the sound of laughter in the dark, and shone the light up to see Becky standing there, hunched over and laughing loudly. This had made me angry. She knew how easily scared I could get, playing with my fear like that had not helped things any. But, I still couldn't help but feel some relief at seeing it had just been a prank. 
Once Becky stopped laughing, I demanded to know why she hadn't flipped the switch to get the power back on. She told me she'd tried to, but then she'd saw that the wires had been cut. There was no way to get any electricity back into the house now. At first I didn't want to believe her, thinking she was still trying to scare me again, but she swore it was true, and even took me over to the fuse box to show me. They had been cut, I don't know with what, but that sent a chill down my spine. I backed away, all my worries suddenly looming up again. 
I started to tell Becky we should get back inside, but before either of us could move, some sort of blade whizzed right past us and pierced right through her neck, blood spurting out like a water fountain. She dropped to the ground, gargling and choking, clawing at the blade to try and pry it loose, but it was no good. I stumbled back, only be able to scream. I wanted to believe I'd fallen asleep on the couch and that this was just a dream, but no. I knew it wasn't. 
I turned around, starting to run back up the steps and into the house. I knew the home phone wasn't going to work, but I still had my cellphone on the coffee table. I could call 911, we could get help, Becky could be okay. But as I started back up the steps, I happened to look to my side and caught sight of something...no...someone. At least, I couldn't tell if it was a person or not, all I could see was a pair of glowing blue eyes. I thought it was a deer at first, but as I shone my flashlight over, it darted away. Panicked, I shone the flashlight around in the thicket of trees nearby, but I couldn't make anything else out. The dying choking noises from Becky brought me back to reality, and I bolted into the house, forgetting to lock the door behind me and nearly stumbling into a lamp. I picked my phone up from the coffee table and started to dial 911, but then I noticed it wasn't on. 
The battery...I'd forgotten to charge the battery after I'd watched videos the other night...
Oh gosh... oh gosh... I didn't have time to charge it. I didn't have time to wait, I couldn't wait, my best friend was dying in my backyard, and there was possibly some crazy killer lurking somewhere outside of my house. 
Or inside...
I hadn't shut the back door.
In a panic, I immediately slammed it shut and locking it, praying that I'd been quick enough. I knew Becky had set her phone aside before we started the movie, she usually didn't want any text messages or phone calls disrupting her. She'd left it next to mine, hadn't she? 
I searched the coffee table with my flashlight, but Becky's phone was nowhere in sight. I got down on my knees and began looking under the couch, the chairs, and even under the cushions, but I couldn't find it. But at that very time...I heard it ring, that same generic ringtone like on any other phone, she'd never seen the point in changing it. 
I got up and looked over to the kitchen counter, where I could see the faint glow of the phone's screen. Slowly, I walked over, and picked it up, looking at the caller ID screen, hoping maybe it was her parents, or someone I could ask for help from, but the number displayed was unknown...
I didn't want to answer it. No. I wasn't going to. I didn't have time for this, I had to get help. I hit the reject button and tried dialing 911, but then it started ringing again. Angered, I hit the reject button again. I thought it had just been a prank call, now had not been the time for a prank call. I again tried to dial 911, but it rang again...this time, I brought myself to answer it.
"What do you want, you bastard?!?" I practically shouted into the phone, my emotions a mix of anger and fear. No one said anything. There was just a brief moment of silence, before someone spoke.
"Look behind you." the voice said in a voice quiet enough to send chills down my spine. 
"W-what do you mean? Look, if this is just someone's idea of sick prank, t-then-" 
There was a click. Then a busy signal. They'd hung up. 
I let the phone drop down to my side. I almost didn't know what was going on anymore. I just wanted to curl up and cry, but I didn't. I didn't even dial 911. For some insane reason or the other, I did as the voice had said to do, and hesitantly turned around to be met with those same glowing eyes I'd seen outside. 
I'd set the flashlight down on the counter, but quickly picked it back up and shone it where I saw the eyes. This time, the figure didn't move. He didn't dart away. He just stood there, staring at me, as I stared at him, frozen in complete fear and terror. His skin was unnaturally pale, almost like a corpse's, but he was very much alive. Pitch black hair partially covered his eyes, which were still glowing. 
I should have run just then, but I couldn't. I stood there, completely paralyzed, as the man moved towards me. Common sense hit me and I started backing away until my back hit the kitchen counter. He was right over me now, leaning in closely. He still seemed to be staring at me, but his eyes... now that he was closer to me, I could see they weren't looking in any other direction. They only seemed to be fixated upwards...you could only see that kind of gaze in a blind person.
Bewildered and afraid, I watched as he lifted his hand up, something was clasped in fingers. It was a small blade of some sort, a knife I think. It was still coated in blood...Becky's blood no doubt. He proceeded to pierce the edge of it through my cheek, cutting it open. Searing pain soared through my face and I could only let out a sickly sob. Blood starting streaming from my cheek down my neck. The man lowered his blade, leaning his face a bit closer to mine, looking as if he were inhaling the scent of my blood. Then he stuck his tongue out and began...began to lick it, lapping up every last drop like it was ice cream. I cringed, I'd stopped sobbing at this point but tears still continued to fall out of my eyes. It was known killers had their own way of doing things, I'd heard stories, I'd seen movies, but nothing was as bad as experiencing it first hand. It made me sick.
At last he stopped and leaned back from me, running his tongue over the bits of blood still remaining on his lips. I saw this as my chance to try and get away, but he grabbed me before I even got the chance, inducing a vice-like grip on my arm. I struggled to get him to release me, but he wouldn't. 
"Don't." he said, in that same quiet voice as on the phone.
Remembering the report of the kids on TV, I stopped struggling. Despite him keeping his hold on my arm, I ended up sinking halfway to my knees and began to sob again. 
"Why?" I wanted to know. "Why are you doing this? What did I do?"
The man didn't say anything. His hold still remaining, he knelt down, shoving his blade back in his pocket before using his other hand to reach out and grab my face, turning it to face his. He looked emotionless, it was almost like he was wearing a mask. 
"You weren't here." he said simply, offering no explanation as to what that meant. He let go of my face, and reached back into his pocket to retrieve his blade. "Now...get a good long look at me sweetheart...I might be the last thing you see."
Then he shoved the blade into my right eye. I convulsed in pain and let out a scream before everything went black. 
When I woke up, I was in the hospital. My parents were there, they'd instantly taken the first plane back home as soon as they'd heard what had happened. I had trouble remembering at first, until I felt the bandages covering the right side of my face. I couldn't see out of one eye, but was told when the police had found me, it had been gone right out my socket. I was lucky to be alive...while Becky...Becky hadn't been so lucky. They'd found her body still in the backyard, her stomach slashed open, her guts spilled out. Her eyes were also gone...just like those kids.
I felt bad for not staying for her funeral, but I didn't want to stay in town any longer. I ended my break early and headed back to college, spending most of my time secluded here in my room. It's been awhile since the whole ordeal happened, but... but I can't forget it. You know how they say it takes longer for emotional wounds to heal rather than physical wounds? Well it's true. I have nightmares, I can still see that blade piercing through Becky's throat, I can still see those glowing eyes and that cold emotionless face. I haven't been able to sleep all that good lately and that's really ruined my focus on studying for exams, I've mainly been living off of coffee just to get myself through the day.
By now I was kind of famous. I was known as the only living survivor of the Sightless Slaughterer... that's what they called him now. I never really have told anyone what happened aside from the police, and I don't know why I waited until now, maybe it was because of what happened this morning...even though I should have seen it coming. Horror movie logic said that the killer never left the last one standing alone, that they'd come back to get them in some way. But knowing this... I still wasn't prepared.
It'd been one of those rare nights when I actually managed to get some sleep, so I felt pretty good. I went down and got my mail, it was just a few bills and a magazine, alongside a small package. I didn't recognize the name of the sender, so I didn't open it right away. I waited until I got back from classes later. I would eventually have to open it so why wait? 
I wasn't in too much of a hurry to open it, my anxiety only grew worse as I tore open the box and fumbled through a few layers of packing peanuts with my hand, that was, until my fingers hit something soft...that's when my anxiety turned to horror, as I pulled out three eye balls. Three. Legit. Human. Eyeballs. 
There was no doubt one of them was mine, I knew that. But the other two... it took me a moment to realize they were Becky's.
I threw that package in the trash, and it's still there now, waiting to be taken away to the garbage dump. I had wanted to forget everything that happened, I had wanted to move on, but I can't. No matter how hard I try I just can't. But I know the least I can do, is warn others of this person, just so you can be cautious. I don't know where he is or how he does what he does, but trust me, you'll know he's there. You'll see his eyes glowing. And as soon as you see his eyes, run. Run as fast as you can, don't look back, pray he doesn't catch you. 
Because if he does catch you...
He really will be the last thing you see.
Category:Mental Illness