~Not Mine. Taken from the Những truyện rùng rợn kinh dị wiki~
We've all had those times, late at night. Maybe you're a little tired, and bạn turned off your lamp to help bạn relax, so it's just bạn and the dull glow of the screen. bạn hear a little noise behind bạn and jump. bạn turn around, and there's a jet-black silhouette of a man in the corner. But as your eyes focus, bạn realize it's only just your curtain. Damn cat was playing with it again, got it all twisted up. The house was just settling, and your mind jumped to a dark place. Nothing to be afraid of, not really.
That's pareidolia. It happens to everybody at some point, so bạn shrug it off and go on with your day.
But what if bạn don't? Is there a tiny, slim chance that you're getting a peek behind the veil of reality, just for a chẻ, phân chia, split second? There on the edge of your awareness, where shapes become ambiguous and the rational part of your brain thinks it isn't worth the effort ... maybe that's where the monsters live. So bạn start paying a little thêm attention. Maybe you're the kind that's afraid of missing out on something, even if that something wants to shove thumbtacks under your eyelids.
Maybe that's just me.
The days go by, and you've always got one little corner of your mind focused on that fuzzy line where vision ends. Nothing noteworthy happens for the longest time, and bạn start telling yourself what a silly idea this was. Monsters? Please. Just when bạn start to lay the idea to rest for good, it happens again. A dark shape, something less than a man but thêm than an animal. Two coal-red eyes that ooze hunger. Still, it's only a vague impression of evil. bạn whip your head around, your tim, trái tim hammering at your ears. Just the damn lamp.
Maybe your brain is just hiển thị bạn what bạn expect to be there, bạn reason. After all, the mind plays tricks to keep reality in line with expectations. Still, you're really interested now. Whatever this is has your attention, and you've never been able to let a thing rest once it piques your curiosity.
bạn become even thêm vigilant. In the back of your mind, bạn take stock of your peripheral vision. bạn try to push out further, expanding your vision beyond that impossible-to-place boundary between sight and darkness. You're dedicated to this crazy task now. For nearly three weeks straight bạn probe, but to no avail. The curtain isn't drawing back any further. bạn see nothing out of the ordinary, so bạn give it a rest, once and for all. It's silly to think there's some hidden place between realities, that of billions and billions of people you're the first to notice. bạn always wanted to be special, didn't you?
So bạn go back to the humdrum of daily routine. Maybe bạn were just bored. And then one night, you're back at the computer đọc about some political snafu in the Middle-East. You're not really into it, but bạn couldn't be bothered to find something better to do, not right before bed. The room is dark. It's just like that first night, bạn muse. The creature colored like ti vi static standing at your shoulder nods slowly and wait that's not right.
bạn jump sideways, twisting as bạn fall. Nothing there, but nothing in its place either. No lamp, no curtain, no poster, nothing but air in that empty không gian where it stood. bạn stare for a good while, rubbing the nasty bump on your head. Finally, bạn step to the phòng bếp, nhà bếp to grab an ice pack from the freezer. Troubled thoughts twist at your brain. Two is a coincidence; three is a trend. You're hooked now. Maybe your mom always told bạn to quit while bạn were ahead.
Maybe that's just me.
You're beginning to see the pattern. Nothing happens when you're really paying attention. When you're waking up, in that time before your brain clicks on, when the sun is just rising? Sure. When your guard is down and you're halfway to daydreaming? Definitely. In those gaps where your critical mind gets childlike, that's where the cracks start to show. And weren't there monsters in your closet when bạn were little, before bạn knew better?
You're at the office the tiếp theo day, typing away at your computer. Your brain disengages, and bạn think back to the night before. It still has bạn spooked. A thought zigs by, and you're reminded of those nights laying in giường when bạn were just cái tát, đánh đập, smack between awareness and dreaming: bạn could watch your body relax and your breathing even out. Kind of like walking the edge of a razorblade. So, god help you, bạn start practicing. It's kind of like meditation. bạn spend some time every morning and night lounging in bed, drinking in that feeling of being on the edge of wakefulness. bạn can feel it like an intuition, and bạn start recalling that body memory in the office while you're filling out your busywork.
One fine morning, you're doing your practice and a gaunt, lanky creature with skin the palest white and black holes where its eyes should be strolls past the opening of your cubicle - just to your right, plain as day. bạn nearly repeat the stunt with the chair again, but bạn manage to land square on your feet this time. bạn peek your head around the cubicle wall, and see the back of your coworker Craig as he walks away. He slows to a halt, looks over his shoulder, and gives bạn a wink before continuing on his way. bạn and Craig aren't that friendly, and bạn think bạn see a smirk on his face. But he was too quick for bạn to get a good look.
It's just your imagination, right?
... right?
We've all had those times, late at night. Maybe you're a little tired, and bạn turned off your lamp to help bạn relax, so it's just bạn and the dull glow of the screen. bạn hear a little noise behind bạn and jump. bạn turn around, and there's a jet-black silhouette of a man in the corner. But as your eyes focus, bạn realize it's only just your curtain. Damn cat was playing with it again, got it all twisted up. The house was just settling, and your mind jumped to a dark place. Nothing to be afraid of, not really.
That's pareidolia. It happens to everybody at some point, so bạn shrug it off and go on with your day.
But what if bạn don't? Is there a tiny, slim chance that you're getting a peek behind the veil of reality, just for a chẻ, phân chia, split second? There on the edge of your awareness, where shapes become ambiguous and the rational part of your brain thinks it isn't worth the effort ... maybe that's where the monsters live. So bạn start paying a little thêm attention. Maybe you're the kind that's afraid of missing out on something, even if that something wants to shove thumbtacks under your eyelids.
Maybe that's just me.
The days go by, and you've always got one little corner of your mind focused on that fuzzy line where vision ends. Nothing noteworthy happens for the longest time, and bạn start telling yourself what a silly idea this was. Monsters? Please. Just when bạn start to lay the idea to rest for good, it happens again. A dark shape, something less than a man but thêm than an animal. Two coal-red eyes that ooze hunger. Still, it's only a vague impression of evil. bạn whip your head around, your tim, trái tim hammering at your ears. Just the damn lamp.
Maybe your brain is just hiển thị bạn what bạn expect to be there, bạn reason. After all, the mind plays tricks to keep reality in line with expectations. Still, you're really interested now. Whatever this is has your attention, and you've never been able to let a thing rest once it piques your curiosity.
bạn become even thêm vigilant. In the back of your mind, bạn take stock of your peripheral vision. bạn try to push out further, expanding your vision beyond that impossible-to-place boundary between sight and darkness. You're dedicated to this crazy task now. For nearly three weeks straight bạn probe, but to no avail. The curtain isn't drawing back any further. bạn see nothing out of the ordinary, so bạn give it a rest, once and for all. It's silly to think there's some hidden place between realities, that of billions and billions of people you're the first to notice. bạn always wanted to be special, didn't you?
So bạn go back to the humdrum of daily routine. Maybe bạn were just bored. And then one night, you're back at the computer đọc about some political snafu in the Middle-East. You're not really into it, but bạn couldn't be bothered to find something better to do, not right before bed. The room is dark. It's just like that first night, bạn muse. The creature colored like ti vi static standing at your shoulder nods slowly and wait that's not right.
bạn jump sideways, twisting as bạn fall. Nothing there, but nothing in its place either. No lamp, no curtain, no poster, nothing but air in that empty không gian where it stood. bạn stare for a good while, rubbing the nasty bump on your head. Finally, bạn step to the phòng bếp, nhà bếp to grab an ice pack from the freezer. Troubled thoughts twist at your brain. Two is a coincidence; three is a trend. You're hooked now. Maybe your mom always told bạn to quit while bạn were ahead.
Maybe that's just me.
You're beginning to see the pattern. Nothing happens when you're really paying attention. When you're waking up, in that time before your brain clicks on, when the sun is just rising? Sure. When your guard is down and you're halfway to daydreaming? Definitely. In those gaps where your critical mind gets childlike, that's where the cracks start to show. And weren't there monsters in your closet when bạn were little, before bạn knew better?
You're at the office the tiếp theo day, typing away at your computer. Your brain disengages, and bạn think back to the night before. It still has bạn spooked. A thought zigs by, and you're reminded of those nights laying in giường when bạn were just cái tát, đánh đập, smack between awareness and dreaming: bạn could watch your body relax and your breathing even out. Kind of like walking the edge of a razorblade. So, god help you, bạn start practicing. It's kind of like meditation. bạn spend some time every morning and night lounging in bed, drinking in that feeling of being on the edge of wakefulness. bạn can feel it like an intuition, and bạn start recalling that body memory in the office while you're filling out your busywork.
One fine morning, you're doing your practice and a gaunt, lanky creature with skin the palest white and black holes where its eyes should be strolls past the opening of your cubicle - just to your right, plain as day. bạn nearly repeat the stunt with the chair again, but bạn manage to land square on your feet this time. bạn peek your head around the cubicle wall, and see the back of your coworker Craig as he walks away. He slows to a halt, looks over his shoulder, and gives bạn a wink before continuing on his way. bạn and Craig aren't that friendly, and bạn think bạn see a smirk on his face. But he was too quick for bạn to get a good look.
It's just your imagination, right?
... right?
