THE HAUNTING OF THE BLACK-EYED CHILDREN

 

The Haunting of the Black-Eyed Children

It was the summer of 1950 when the Sullivan family moved into a quaint farmhouse on the outskirts of a small town in New England. The house was old, but charming, with tall oaks lining the driveway and a wide, open field behind it. To most, it seemed like the perfect escape from the bustle of city life. But the house had a dark past that the Sullivans were unaware of.

Within weeks of moving in, strange things began happening. At first, it was small: flickering lights, doors that wouldn't stay shut, and odd noises in the middle of the night. But then, the true terror began.

One cold evening in late October, the family gathered for dinner when they heard a soft knock at the front door. Mr. Sullivan, ever the hospitable type, opened the door, expecting a neighbor or perhaps a lost traveler. But what he saw made his blood run cold.

Two children stood on the doorstep—no older than 10 or 11—dressed in old-fashioned clothing. Their faces were pale, and their eyes… their eyes were completely black. Not the pupils, but the entire sclera, giving them a chilling, soulless look.

"Can we come in? We’re lost," the girl said in a voice that seemed far too mature for her small frame.

Mr. Sullivan, frozen in fear, could barely form a response. It wasn’t the cold night or the strange attire that unsettled him—it was the fact that they had appeared out of nowhere. He had seen no cars or people near the house for miles, and these children didn't even look like they belonged to the area.

He hesitated, but something in their eyes compelled him to speak.

“I’m sorry, but it’s too late for visitors,” he stammered. “Go back to where you came from.”

The children didn’t react. Instead, they took a step forward, their heads tilting slightly, as if waiting for him to invite them in. The air around the doorway grew colder, and the hairs on the back of Mr. Sullivan’s neck stood up.

“Let us in, we’re cold,” the boy said softly, his voice eerie in its calmness. “We’re not supposed to be out here.”

Something about their words—almost rehearsed—sent a chill through him. But then, a wave of relief washed over him, and he instinctively shut the door in their faces.

That night, strange sounds filled the house—scratching, thumping, and what sounded like whispers, as if coming from every corner. The family tried to sleep, but they couldn’t escape the feeling that they were being watched.

The following day, Mrs. Sullivan went out to the mailbox, and there they were again. The children stood at the end of the driveway, staring at her with those black eyes. They hadn’t moved, and yet, they seemed closer. They were now directly in front of her.

“We just want to come in,” the girl said again. “It’s so cold.”

Mrs. Sullivan, terrified, rushed back inside the house, locking every door and window. The children never left. They remained standing there, unmoving, day and night, always staring.

As the days went on, the family’s anxiety grew. The children never spoke, never moved. They just watched. Each night, the sounds grew louder, the air heavier, until one evening, Mr. Sullivan decided to confront them again. Armed with a flashlight, he stepped out into the night, his heart pounding in his chest.

The children were there, as always, standing by the driveway. But this time, their eyes were different. Instead of black, they were dark red, glowing faintly. The girl reached her hand out, beckoning him forward.

He tried to take a step back, but his legs wouldn't move. He felt as though an invisible force was pulling him toward them.

"Let us in," the boy whispered.

Before he could react, he was grabbed from behind—an unseen force had taken hold of him, dragging him towards the children. His screams were swallowed by the cold night air, and by the time his wife rushed outside to help, he had disappeared.

The next morning, the Sullivans were gone. The house, once full of life, now stood empty and silent, its windows dark, its doors sealed shut. Neighbors spoke of strange occurrences around the house—lights flickering at odd hours, the sound of children laughing in the wind—but no one ever saw the family again.

Years later, rumors began to spread in the town. Those who dared approach the farmhouse claimed to see two children standing at the end of the driveway, their black eyes gleaming in the moonlight, waiting for the next soul to invite them in.

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This story is inspired by the "Black-Eyed Children" legend, a real urban legend that has spread through internet forums and horror stories. Witnesses claim to have encountered strange children with solid black eyes, who ask to be invited into homes or cars. While there are no confirmed cases of such encounters, the chilling nature of these stories has made them a part of modern folklore.