The Skin Daddy

## The Skin Daddy by GoopKing

Have you ever heard of the Skin Daddy? I have. He lives in the forest behind my house. He comes out sometimes, but not very often. Not many people have heard of him; just me, really.

The Skin Daddy is very nice and friendly. Sometimes, he will appear in my room. He likes to talk. He talks to me every night. He talks about everything I like: trains, dinosaurs, and spaceships. His voice is nice and calm; it's not scary. But I'm the only one who sees the Skin Daddy. Mommy and Daddy say that they can't see him; they think he's just imaginary. My sister Meg can't see him either. But I know he's real.

The Skin Daddy is very tall. He tells me he's even taller than Daddy. I believe him. He has shiny eyes that make it easier to see him at night. He's very fuzzy like a big stuffed animal. He looks like he has a beard on his face, but he calls it his "special hair". I don't know what it means, but it sounds weird.

.

Today my Daddy was very sick. He kept coughing and throwing up on the floor. Mommy had to take him to the stomach doctor to get his "check-up". When they were done, Mommy told me that Daddy would be sleeping at the doctor's office tonight. She told me to "stay positive". I can't. I'm scared for Daddy. But my friend Skin Daddy talked to me that night. He told me that Daddy would be alright. He told me that he would go to the doctor's office tonight after I fell asleep and give Daddy some special medicine. I felt better then.

.

Today when Mommy picked me and Meg up from Day Care, she was crying. She said Daddy wouldn't be coming home tonight. Or tomorrow night. I asked her when he would come home. She looked at me and started crying and hugging me. I'm getting scared now. Mommy didn't want to talk all night. She didn't even read me a bedtime story. But the Skin Daddy did. He is a good storyteller. When he finished, he told me where Daddy was. He told me that he was at a "happy place". I asked him where the "happy place" was, and he just said "Goodnight".

...

I'm getting scared now. When Mommy woke me up, she said she had bad news. Meg was gone. Mommy was crying again, just like she did when Daddy went to the "happy place". I was crying too. Meg was my best friend. I don't where she went. The nice police officers that Mommy called didn't know either. They said "sorry" and left after they checked the house. That night, the Skin Daddy read me another story to calm me down. I asked him where Meg was. He said "She's in a happy place with your Daddy." I asked him again where the "happy place" was. He told me "You'll get to go there yourself someday soon...

Someday *very* soon."

## Skin in the Distance

September 23, 1987

I'm not sure what happened an hour ago, but I know SOMETHING happened. I was sitting in the living room of my two-story farmhouse, and I heard what sounded like my pigs squealing. I got my flashlight and a camera, and ran out the back door, towards my cornfield. I saw one of my pigs lying dead on the ground, with its throat sliced open, and its eyes were completely white. I heard this horrible scream and I looked up to see two small white lights in the trees of the forest next to my cornfield. I managed to snap one photo as I abandoned the pig and ran inside. I haven't checked the photo yet, so I don't know what turned up.

September 24, 1987

Something else happened almost 20 minutes ago. I was watching TV in my living room, like last night, and I heard a window break upstairs. I thought it might've been a burglar, so I grabbed my hunting rifle and ran upstairs. I checked the whole floor, but there was no broken glass. There was a weird-looking impression on the attic window pane, almost like someone had been pressing their face up against it and left an imprint of their face. I tried wiping it off with soap and water, but it wouldn't go away. I was about to board it up when I looked out the window and saw that my bales of hay were in different places than they were yesterday. I'll try to ignore it

September 25, 1987

My god.......it happened again......oh Bandit......I'm sorry, I'm trying to keep my tears from staining my journal pages. I...I was fixing my TV (for some reason, it went to static) and....oh god....my dog Bandit started howling and barking up a storm at something outside. I grabbed my hunting rifle again, cause' I was afraid that thing from the other night had come back. I ran out the back door and I saw Bandit barking at the cornfield. Then he bolted into the field. I tried to follow him, but I lost him. As I was walking back inside the house, I heard Bandit yelp in pain. I turned around, and there was this...thing standing about 20 yards from me. It was tall and hairy, and really thin. It had a beard and these two, big ol' white eyes. It just stood there staring at me. I ran into the house and locked the door.

September 26, 1987

It's back. I'm looking out my bedroom window as I'm writing this. The hairy man is standing on top of my barn; how he got up there, I don't know. He's pacing back and forth on top of my 30-foot barn. I can barely see him, but I can see his white eyes real good. I'm starting to freak out. Why does he come after me every night? What's he want? I think I'm going to call it quits for tonight. I need to get some sleep. Lord knows I need it...

September 27, 1987

I'm starting to lose my mind. It's been bothering me all day. That's right, the thing comes out during the day now too. When I woke up this morning, my haybales were in different positions again. It killed some of my chickens and another of my pigs as well. I still haven't found Bandit. I'm about to just call the cops, but I doubt that will do anything. I have no idea what I'm going to do about this. I'm starting to go crazy. I'm sitting in the attic at 11:30 p.m. as I'm writing this, still trying to figure out what this face imprint is on my attic window. I'm going to have to call in a profes-

Wait...The imprint just blinked.

## Visions of Daddy

I see things. Every night. I see them in my dreams, and they haunt my subconscious constantly. They are both horrifying and beautiful at the same time. They make me think dark thoughts, about my family, my life, and my mind. I'm constantly dreading the night. I hate going to sleep, and I pray every night that these dreams will not occur. But my prayers are never answered.

The dreams always start the same way. I wake up in a cool dark shack, shivering and naked. Lying next to me are a pile of bloodstained clothes. I put them on subconsciously. The shack has a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. I pull the cord and turn it on, as I do everytime. Usually, the shack is empty. This time, I'm not alone; there is a small boy, huddled in the corner. He is facing the corner, and I can't see his face. I stare at him for some time. After an hour, he turns to look at me. His face is missing. His face is missing, but I can see another face in his blank one. The face stares at me. It has no mouth or nose. It has white eyes, with no pupils; just white. The eyes stare into my mind, as if trying to read the story of my soul. I try to read his in return. Soon, the boy fades away as the light dims again. As he disappears, he attempts to speak. No sound comes out, but I read his lips: "let him in."

I hear a clicking sound, and find that the door of the shack is now unlocked. I slowly open the door and I see an abyss of trees, an enormous forest, covered in a blanket of fog. The tree corpses are so thick, they block all moonlight from reaching the earth. Their twisted branches reach towards me like broken arms. But hard as they try, they can not harm me. In the midst of the trees, I can see what looks like a thing. A tall, hairy, black figure, watching me with white glowing eyes, acting as a grotesque shadow. I keep walking, try as hard as possible not to look at it. Although I do my best to keep it out of sight, I can still feel it following close behind.

I hear no footsteps aside from my own, but I still sense its prescence following me. I feel the thing's white eyes boring into the back of my mind. My mind is racing, with thoughts of dark emotions and the thing's face. Sweat drips down my face. A dull pain is beginning to shoot through my chest, but I continue walking. I can feel that the pain is being caused by the thing following me. Eventually, I come to a clearing. A group of small stones on the ground spell out four words: "i love you daddy." I stand staring at the message, with thoughts of my late father creeping through my mind. The stones rearrange themselves: "let me in." Suddenly, a glimmer of white catches my eye. I can see that it isn't one of the thing's eyes; it is a piece of paper, attached to a tree. I approach it and examine it. It is a crayon-drawing of the faceless boy holding hands with the tall thing. It looks as if a small child has drawn it. The drawing has a name written in the bottom-right hand corner: my name.

There is something written above each figure: the word "Me" is written above the faceless boy, and the word "Daddy" is written above the tall thing. I stare at the drawing for several minutes. Then, I hear a sound: a whispering voice. It is hard to make it out, but finally I hear what it says: "let me in'.....let me in." I turn around, and I see it. It is standing before me; it is tall, dark, and covered in shadowy hair, with glowing white eyes. He says to me, "let me in." I stand, staring him down. I attempt to speak, but my mind doesn't want my mouth to open. Eventually, I succeed in opening it: "i love you daddy." I begin walking towards him, slowly but steadily, making my way into his welcoming arms.

I finally let him in.

## The Thing Across the Street

It's hard for me to think straight. I'm afraid to leave my house, because of the...thing out there. It's constantly watching my every move, and I don't know what to do or what it is.

I am a historian, or at least I was. I live with my girlfriend Christie in a little suburban neighborhood in Minnesota. We had been dating for 2 years, and I was planning on popping the big question on our 2nd anniversary.

She had just moved in with me, and I was helping her unload her belongings. Suddenly, she walked up to me carrying a small box. She pushed a button on it and it opened, revealing a small spinning ballerina. There was an old abandoned house across the street from us, and she said she bought the music box at an auction of things the previous owner of the old house left behind.

Now, once again, I'm a local historian and I've done some research on that house. It was built in the late 1800's, and it has belonged to the same family for several generations. The guy who originally lived there built the house for his wife after they married, and he gave her the music box as a wedding present. The most recent owner, an older woman named Mrs. Carmilla, recently past away the week before my girlfriend moved in, leaving the house ownerless.

My girlfriend thought the music box was absolutely beautiful, so she HAD to buy it. I wanted her to be happy, so I let her put it on my mantle above the fireplace. She kept going on and on about how the porcelain dancer on the music box resembled her, claiming it was "made for her". We finally got her settled in and we decided to go out to dinner as a little "celebration". That evening was amazing; nothing could ruin it. When we returned home, I was shocked. It looked as if the house had been ransacked; everything was in disarray. Chairs had been flipped over and a broken vase was lying in pieces on the floor. Then something strange hit me: the only thing that had been untouched was that music box.

Even stranger, the box was open and it was playing. We had left it closed before we went out, so SOMEBODY had to have opened it. We closed it just before it finished the song, as it was beginning to irritate me. I went to look for more signs of damage while Christie called the police to report a breaking-and-entering. As I entered the kitchen, I saw: a white scrap of paper. I picked it up and read it.

"Hum a merry little tune"

I was somewhat confused and freaked out at the same time. I went downstairs and the police had already arrived. They were making a list of everything that had been damaged. I tapped one officer on the shoulder and showed him the note. To my surprise, he took it as a joke!

"Is this some kind of prank?" he said. I assured him that I meant no disrespect. He looked at me with a stern look and said, "Pack it up, men." They all left, thinking us to be pranksters. This was turning out to be a horrid night.

That night, Christie and I were lying in bed. She was somehow sound asleep, and I felt jealous of her. I couldn't sleep a single wink, no matter how much I tried. The only sounds were the sounds of her snoring and the sounds of crickets chirping in the night. I layed there for hours. Suddenly, something caught my eye; something in the window. I got out of bed groggily and walked to the window. I wasn't sure what I was looking at; I was looking towards the window of the old house across the street.

Two white lights shone back at me from the top window. I didn't know what the heck they were, but they seemed to be looking directly at me. I stared at them for a good 20 minutes, and they never moved or disappeared. It was a good 20 minutes before I realized something else; the music box was playing. It was almost like background music as the thing and I had our staring contest. Suddenly, there was a flash of black in the distance; the curtains of the window swathed over the thing, obscuring it from view. I snapped out of my trance, and shook Christie several times. She woke up with her hair in her face, and looked at me: "What....what's wrong?"

"I think there's something in the old Carmilla house," I replied. "I'm going to go see what it is."

"Be careful," she said sleepily. She immediately went back to sleep.

I put on some jeans and crept downstairs. I put on my sneakers and headed out the door. The night was quiet, and it was pretty much silent. I slowly approached the front door of the rickety house. I looked up at the top window where the thing was, but there was nothing there. I tried to open the door, and not surprisingly, it was locked. There was nothing I could do to get in, since breaking and entering was not on my list of things to do. I just started to return home when a scream shot through the night; it was Christie. I rushed across the street, assuming she had fallen and hurt herself. I rushed inside my house and saw that the furniture had once again been turned over. However, this time, the furniture looked as if it had been partially eaten.

I heard something in the bathroom get knocked over, like someone was ransacking the room. I rushed inside and everything seemed fine. The mirror had fogged up, but that was it. Then it hit me; as I gazed at the steel shower nozzle, I saw the reflection of the mirror in it. A message started to write itself in the fog on the mirror. I whirled around, but there was nothing there and no message.

I looked back at the shower nozzle as the message only manifested in the metal of the nozzle.

"H.....u.....m......a.....m.....e....r.....r....y....l....i....t....t....l....e....t....u....n....e...."

The same message as before. At that moment, all the lights turned off. The music box started playing by itself. I looked out of the bathroom, but all I could see was the moonlight shining off the porcelain surface of the music box as it played. But there was something else; those same two white eyes, staring back at me. They were right next to the music box.

I heard another scream from upstairs. I was desperately wanting to run upstairs to Christie's aid, but that thing...just stared at me. At last, I broke free from its gaze and ran up the stairs; it didn't seem to follow. I saw Christie on the floor, lying on a blood-soaked carpet. She was lying on her back, with her legs straight out and her arms tucked at her sides. I held her in my arms as she began to choke on her own blood. I looked up, only to see that thing....staring at me. It was tall and covered in hair, but the only thing I remember clearly are those glowing eyes.....just piercing me.

Christie continued to gasp for air, and that thing kept on staring at me, never moving. I had drowned it out at first, but then I realized that the music box was still playing, still nearing the end of the song. Time seemed to slow down, as the being and I had our staring contest. The end of the song was getting closer and closer, and then suddenly...it happened. The end of the song. All I remember about the end of the song is hearing music box play the words:

"Hum a merry little tune"

At that moment, the lights came on. The creature was gone and so was Christie. Terrified, I ran downstairs. I noticed something: the music box was no longer on the mantle. It was now lying on the floor, and the dancer was in a different position. She was lying on her back, with her legs straight out and her arms tucked at her sides. Then something else stood out to me: another music box was lying next to the first. I looked at the dancer on this new one and was horrified; the dancer was a man with an uncanny likeness to me, lying in a completely different position.