My Son Saw Skibidi Toilet in the Bathroom

"Daddy, I just saw Skibidi Toilet!"
Ugh. My son Tyler is only 8 years old and he's already more internet savvy than I ever was. He spends about 10 hours a day sitting on our living room couch watching Youtube, only stopping to eat lunch and go to the bathroom. If he were any older, he'd have a "problem", but from what I hear this behavior is extremely common at his age. Unfortunately,  I work from home full time, and it's just me, him, and our cat Sammy most days, so I have to let go of the reins a bit and trust him to not stumble across anything explicit. He mostly watches guys playing video games (I try to find him the clean ones, but every now and then I hear a twenty-something screaming profanities from the other side of the house.) His absolute favorite series, if I can call it that, is Skibidi Toilet. Hope I spelled that right. The gist of the series is that a man's head pops out of a toilet and sings. Seriously, that's it. He's shown me a couple of the videos, and each time I understand it less and less. But that's not really the point. It makes him happy, so it makes me happy. I liked some dumb stuff as a kid, too, so I really have no place to judge. But from a hopelessly unhip parent's point of view, what happened a few days ago was odd.
Tyler claimed that he saw Skibidi Toilet in our bathroom. Not that he watched a Skibidi Toilet video in the bathroom, that he saw the man himself pop his head out of our commode. 
Obviously, I was a little skeptical. 
"Really? The man himself, huh?" I said, humoring him.
Tyler gulped. 
"Uh-huh. It was him. I just finished going and he came out of the toilet!"
"And did he, uh, say anything?"
"Maybe. He was really quiet, so I couldn't hear very much. His mouth didn't really move though."
"Ah, so he's a ventriloquist. Quite the guy, that Skiba...skaba..."
"Skibidi. And what's a ventriloquist?"
"Guy who does puppets. Anyway, it's getting late. Let's get ya tucked in. It's a school night after all."
Believe it or not, that was all for the night. I did think his suggestion of Skibidi Toilet being real was a tad out of character. He was a creative kid, but he had never tried to convince me that he was talking to fictional beings or imaginary friends. What I did know from 8 years of parenting was that kids are fuckin' weird. It could have been a dream, or a failed attempt at a prank. How was I to know? For the first night, I wasn't worried.
Then it happened again.
I was frying some eggs on the stovetop when I felt something tugging at my pantleg. Looking down, I saw Tyler, bright blue puppy dog eyes in full effect. 
"Hey buddy. Need anything?"
Tyler shook his head no.
"I saw him again. In the bathroom."
His voice was wavering, like he was about to burst into tears at any moment.
"Tyler... are you ok? Is he bothering you?"
"No. I'm good. I'm fine. His voice is just a little scary."
"Scary?"
"He always whispers. He never uses his outdoor voice. And he smells really bad."
"Well, he does live in a toilet." I tried to keep the situation light, but there was an undercurrent of darkness to his claim that was revealing itself by the second.
"No. Really bad. Like when Sammy finds a mouse, but worse. He keeps trying to kiss me, and..."
I put what I was doing on hold and knelt down to his level. 
"Tyler. I'm serious. He isn't real. If he scares you, you can stop watching his videos."
"No. It's not the videos. He's real. He only comes out when you're not around."
"Tyler..."
"He comes out the same time every day. Near bedtime. He doesn't want to leave."
I put my hand on his shoulder, tightly gripping it to comfort him.
"Tell you what. Next time he comes out, I'll come and take a look at him. How does that sound?"
"He said you can't be here. You can't ever be in the same room as him. "
"I'll make sure he never sees me. It'll be like a secret spy mission."
While he still seemed a little apprehensive, the prospect of me interfering calmed him down a bit.
"Promise?" he asked.
I put my pinky around his and smiled.
"Pinky promise. Nothing's gonna happen to you while I'm around."
Tyler smiled a bit at that, and went off to bed shortly after.
The next morning, I felt a tapping sensation on my shoulder. Turning over in bed, I was met with my own reflection projected on to a metallic surface. Gazing upward, I figured out what I was looking at. It was Tyler's Little League baseball bat, aluminum skin shining in the morning rays.
"If he tries to hurt me, use this," said Tyler matter-of-factly.
In my mind, I scoffed a little bit, as sweet as the gesture was. He really believed this thing was real. I nodded and accepted his offer, putting it next to the bed.
When I did that, he breathed a sigh of relief. Bless his heart.
The day came and went, and nothing significant happened. When nightfall came, though, Tyler was in full on panic mode. He seemed even more disturbed than yesterday, constantly sifting through his drawers and looking for something I could use.
We had a rendezvous in the bathroom around 7:00 PM. Tyler opened the toilet seat and peered in, bracing himself.
As I walked up behind him, he put his small hand in front of me, signaling me to stop. 
"'Member what I said?  We can't let him see you."
"Tyler, c'mon. What harm could it do?"
He glared daggers at me,  holding his ground. Rolling my eyes, I humored his paranoia and crouched behind the doorframe, trying my best not to poke my head too far into view. Tyler stared down into the bowl, unblinking. 
Time flew by as we waited in tense silence for what seemed like hours. The inky night grew darker, the crickets outside began a cacophony of chirps.
There was an itch at the back of my mind. Tyler wasn't trying to prank me, was he? We've been here a while, and nothing has happened. Tyler started to get restless,  hopping from one foot to the other to balance.
"Buddy, there's nothing coming to get you. You just had a bad dream. Maybe lay off all those Youtube videos."
Tyler shook his head in apparent disbelief. 
"You can sleep with me tonight, if it makes you feel better. But I promise nothing bad will happen."
Sighing, Tyler closed the toilet seat and followed me out of the bathroom. As we went upstairs, he turned to me, speaking his first words since the night began. 
"Could he come out of the toilet? Like, to hurt us?"
"Tyler, I don't even know what a Skidabadee-"
"Skibidi."
"-Skibidi toilet is.  Whatever he is though, he's clearly giving you nightmares. You're not watching him ever again, period."
Tyler stopped on the top of the stairwell, panic-stricken.
"No, no, no! You don't get it! He's funny!"
"Funny?"
"Yeah! Trust me, you'd love him!"
"I mean, you've already shown me him. Not a fan."
"Yeah, but those weren't the really funny ones. I haven't shown you the one where-"
"Tyler, look. You shouldn't be watching that stuff anyway. You'll get over it fast, I promise. Remember when I banned those weird Spider-Man videos with the needles and the poop? You were mad about it for a day, and then moved on to something else. You're gonna look back on all this and laugh. Really."
Tyler sulked a bit, crossing his arms.
"I mean, he creeps me out a little bit, but not enough for me to hate him."
"See? I told you he would give you nightmares. You shouldn't watch creepy stuff before bedtime."
"So you've never watched something that scared you a little bit? Ever?"
I mulled over that question for a bit.
"I mean, I've watched plenty of horror movies."
"No, like something that shouldn't have scared you, but did. Something that you liked, even if it gave you nightmares."
I didn't know how to respond. Was there anything in my past that spooked me? 
"Well, um, do you know who Skeletor is?" I said.
"Who?"
"Right, that's a little before your time. Basically, he was this big skeleton with magic powers that always tried to take over the world."
"That sounds awesome!"
"Well, maybe to you. But when I was your age, maybe a little younger, I would have nightmares about him all the time. His laugh especially. Eugh. Gives me the willies just thinking about it. "
"Where was he from?"
"He-Man. It was a cartoon. I mean, I loved the show. I had the shirts, the lunchboxes, pretty much all the toys..."
"Even Skeletor?"
"Yep. Even him."
"But you were scared of him?"
"I still liked him. He was scary, but he was the bad guy, so I always knew he would lose. He-Man wouldn't be as cool if his villain was lame, right?"
Suddenly, a crazy thought went through my head.
"Hang on," I said.
I marched to the upper staircase that led to the attic. Opening the attic door, a cloud of dust penetrated my nostrils. In the corner of the musky room was a red toybox, worn with age. I knelt down next to it and flipped open the simple lock. Digging my hand through the pile of old toys inside, I came across exactly who I was looking for.  Its paint was a little worn, but it was suprisingly complete, right down to the purple pointy sword thing he was always holding.
I walked back to Tyler hiding the prize behind my back. 
"I almost forgot I had this. Say hello to..." Taking the object from behind my back, he was presented with my childhood boogeyman.
"SKELETOR!" I yelled.
Tyler was holding back laughter.
"That's Skeletor?"
"Uh, yeah. Dragon Blaster Skeletor, to be specific."
"Nerd."
"Okay, you don't have to rub it in." 
Rolling my eyes, I passed him the toy.
"So that's who you had nightmares over? A skeleton that's not even scary?"
"Well, I was 6. Besides, he was pretty spooky."
He tilted his head quizzically.
"I guess you just had to be there."
Tyler brought the figure up to his face and fiddled with the articulation. God, I wonder how many kids poked their eye out with that sword. Thanks, Mattel.
Smirking, Tyler made one last request before bed.
"Do the laugh."
"What?"
"The laugh. Y'know, Skeletor's laugh?"
"I mean, I haven't heard it in a while..."
"C'mon, Dad!"
"Ah, alright. I believe it went a little bit like...this!"
I tried to do my best Skeletor laugh, and subsequently realized why I'm not a voice actor. Tyler was giggling like mad, a completely different person than he was a few minutes ago.  Picking him up in my arms, I carried him to the bedroom, toy in tow. I set him down gently in bed, pulling the thick blankets over his body.  He was asleep within a  minute or two,  as expected. Settling into bed, I took Skeletor and put him on the cabinet so that he wasn't poking me all night. With a kiss on the forehead, I wished Tyler sweet dreams and lulled off to sleep.
Something invisible woke me late at night. Maybe it was a change in the air, maybe it was an unevenness in the sheets, but something was off. My eyes flew open, darting straight to the clock.
4:00 A.M. 
I looked to my right
The Skeletor toy was gone.
I looked to my left.
So was Tyler.
Heart caught in my throat, I practically leaped out of bed. I didn't have a flashlight or phone with me, but I did bring my bat.
I told myself that it was silly to worry, that he probably just got up to go to the bathroom.
Wait. The bathroom.
I almost fell down the stairs with how fast I ran.
"Tyler?" I yelled down the hall.
Peering around the corner, I saw him exactly where I thought I would.
He was pulling back the shower curtains, clearly looking for something in the bath. He seemed antsy, like he wanted to leave as fast as possible. Glancing warily at the toilet, he continued his search.
The top of the toilet's tank jostled slightly, then more. A small toy skull peeked out from underneath the lid, followed by purple shoulders. Skeletor was pushed the rest of the way out, landing with a thud on top of the closed toilet seat The sound alerted Tyler of its presence, turning to the figure and snatching it up.
Suddenly, a sharp hissing sound broke the quiet. Tyler froze, arms behind his back. The toilet seat lid flew up, and slowly I could see something emerge from the waters of the bowl. A tuft of brown hair, a pair of ears, a bent nose.
The head was that of a dead man's, attached to a lithe, stalk-like body. Its eyes were sunken and glazed over, the life having left them long ago. It wore a crooked smile, teeth rotted and falling out.
It whispered through its teeth, chanting almost.
"I lovvveee youuuu.... TTTyler....Bbbeautiful.....sssspeciallll....boyyy..."
It's voice was whistle-like, with a singsongy cadence.
"YYYYooouuuu....ssssooo......lovveeddd...."
It danced around like a charmed snake in a basket, its face getting dangerously close to my son's. Tears welled up in his eyes, his shoulders heaved with heavy breaths. I grabbed for my bat, wrestling it out of my belt loop as quietly as possible.
The head drew even closer to Tyler's face. For the first time, its mouth moved, opening wide to reveal a long, black tongue.
"Sssssooooo....lllloooovvvvedddd...."
The coal black tongue extended startlingly far. Making contact with Tyler's cheek, it licked his face sensually, covering it in gunk and miscellanious juices. He squeezed his eyes tight, balling his little fists.
As the head came in for a second lick, I rushed into the bathroom. Gripping the bat, I swung at the head stalk with enough force to down a grizzly bear. The bat collided with the skull of the creature, making a sickeningly wet sploshing sound, like it was hitting a thick pile of mud. The head retreated back into the bowl, emitting an animalistic screech as it went. Peeking inside, I saw that the flush hole was exactly the same size as always. How the hell did that thing fit through?
Tyler was on his knees, completely broken. He was still clutching that damn Skeletor like a lifesaver.
"He took Skeletor, so I- I-,"
"What, honey, what did you do?"
"I looked around, and then I checked th-th-the potty..."
Potty. I hadn't heard him call it that in years. 
He mushed his face into my chest, sobbing. 
"We need to call the police, " I said.
"What're they gonna do?" Tyler replied.
Truthfully, I had no idea. But we needed to make someone aware of this.
I left my phone on the charger in the living room, which was clear on the other side of the house.
"Stay by me no matter what. I don't know what this thing is, but we can't take any chances."
Tyler nodded, eyes still welling with tears.
Taking his hand in mine, I guided him through the darkened halls. We made it to the living room in record time, with no creatures in sight.
I unplugged the phone from the charger and dialed 911, watching Tyler out the corner of my eye. 
"Warren County Sheriff's Office. What's your emergency?"
"Uh, yeah. There's someone or something in my bathroom."
"Your bathroom?"
"Yeah, I don't know what it is but-"
A sharp meow came from the doorway
"Sammy!" Tyler exclaimed, jumping off the couch. 
Our tuxedo cat stood there plainly, tail flicking back and forth as usual.
"Daddy, we have to save him! If that thing gets to him..."
"TYLER, WAIT!"
I tried to grab him, but it was too late. He was sprinting towards Sammy, toy thrown behind him. He picked the cat up in both arms and nuzzled his cheek against his soft fur. 
"Alright, buddy. You're safe now."
Tyler attempted to walk back to the couch, but was stopped in his tracks. There was something holding him back. He tried to advance forward, but his steps weren't getting him anywhere. That's when I noticed it. Glimmering in the dark was a small, greasy looking vine attached to Sammy's belly. It led off into the dark hallway behind him, almost like he was an anchor for some bigger creature.
"Tyler, let him go. Now."
He tried to move his hands, but they remained stuck to the cat's fur. He pulled harder, but that only resulted in the fur stretching unnaturally like putty. His hands looked to be melded completely to our pet. Throwing down the phone, I stood up and tried to help him detach, to no avail.
His eyes pleaded with me to save him, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. For the first time, I couldn't help my baby.
He fell to his knees, Sammy now resembling a blob of clay rather than a beloved pet. Suddenly, there was a sharp tugging on Sammy's vine. I grabbed Tyler's arm in a futile attempt to keep him with me. He gave one last pleading glance, and was swiftly pulled into the darkness. Attempting to give chase, I slammed face-first into a newly created wall of tendrils. I looked through them like bars in a cage, but I saw nothing but my own tears. 
There was a soft laughter from behind me. It was a high cackle, almost cartoonish in nature. Familiar. Too familiar.  
In front of me was a half-rotted corpse suspended by a long tendril, its jaundiced skull still visible. It wore a purple cloth around its body, bits of flesh hanging off like rosebuds. The cackling grew louder and louder, until it felt like the whole house was shaking. 
The corpse approached me, stalk waving around like a cobra about to strike.
"What the hell are you?!"
The head's smile remained unbroken. A whistling sound snuck past its lips, and then words.
"A ventriloquist. A guy who does puppets."
It was in my voice.
The skeleton morphed, twisting and bubbling like putty. Its head spun around and around, going faster and faster as it was reshaped like a clay pot. Hair, a nose, ears. They gradually formed from the skeletal face.
The head was now that of my son's. But I could only tell by the eyes.
It was a Tyler I could only see in my worst nightmares. He was completely flayed, skin raw and dripping with blood. One eye remained in its socket, while the other hung limply from its connecting flesh. His golden-blond hair was now dirt brown and sopping wet, filthy water dripping off his head. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out except gurgles and mucus. His arms were outstretched, reaching for a hug. The aluminum bat was a short distance away, but it was clear that it could only get me so far. 
Regardless, I grabbed it and hoped for the best.
The creature was approaching faster, suspended by the giant tendril.  Gripping the bat, I went against all my judgements as a father and swung. Tyler's head shattered, meat staining the walls and floors. Another swing. The right arm falls. I battered the corpse until it was nothing but mush under my feet. The stalk fell limply to the floor, wilting like a dead flower. I looked behind me to see that the vines blocking the doorway were starting to slink away. I was prepared to dash through while I had the chance, but I stopped myself. It wasn't over yet. In place of the vines, what at first glance looked to be a giant, fiery orb appeared in their place. Then I looked again.
A huge eyeball, the eye of some hideous creature, revealed itself in the doorway. It was orange, and almost catlike in appearance. Whatever was in the shadows let out a guttural moan, shaking the floor beneath me. The eye moved in a circular motion, almost as if it was taunting me. Like everything else on this beast, it was attached to some long appendage.
The eyestalk approached, bigger than could be believed. A tendril snaked out from the blackness and began to wrap around my legs, pinning me to the ground. Another one shot out and grabbed the bat by the handle, dragging it back into the hall. I looked around for anything I could use, but the situation seemed hopeless.
The toy laid there beside me, covered in grime. With one arm free, I reached over and grabbed the sword from its hand.
The eye was getting closer now, almost to the tip of my nose. I tried to scream, but I felt my mouth quickly get covered by another slimy tentacle. Turning over the sword with my fingers, I made sure the sharp end was facing the target. It was now or never.
With all the fury of a scorned father, I sunk the tiny plastic sword into the creature's eyeball, triggering a hissing sound from behind the doorway. The eyestalk pulled back sharply, retreating into the dark. I felt the pressure on my right arm loosen, and soon my legs were no longer bound together. The last appendage loosened its grip on my mouth, and I was able to breathe again. The eye had left a trail of blood as it retreated. Without thinking, I followed it. To my shock, however, it led nowhere. The room it apparently escaped to was completely empty. No sign of either it or Tyler. 
I called the police soon after. Against my better judgement, I cleaned up the blood and mutilated mush on the floor before the cops arrived. I knew that wasn't really Tyler, and I didn't want them thinking I murdered my own son. All I told them was that a wild animal broke into our house, and Tyler went missing after that. I mean, I wasn't really lying that much anyway. How else could I have described it?
The neighborhood searched for Tyler for months. Nothing. Not even a footprint or a shred of clothing. Eventually, we just had to give up.
I still look at Tyler's iPad, for old times' sakes. A few days after he went missing, I noticed something in his camera roll. He had recorded a video, the day before this all started. It was him, singing the Skibidi Toilet song. There he was, looking the same as ever. It was hard to believe he was gone a few days later. I watch that video everyday. It helps me sleep at night, knowing he's right there with me. I've warmed up to that song. To see something bring him that much joy, to see him as I always saw him. To say goodbye to him every night, just like we always did. If we ever do find him, I fear that he'll look like that manifestation, that pained creature with the peeled skin and the popped eye. I don't want to remember him as that.
I want to remember him as the boy who loved what he loved, even if it scared him. I want to remember him as the boy that was brave, kind, and intelligent through the worst of days.
I want to remember him as Tyler.
Category:YouTube
Category:Dismemberment
Category:Disappearances
Category:Weird