The Black-Eyed Boy

Some say San Angelo is one of the most haunted places in Texas; I never believed that until recently. A couple of weeks ago, I was at home with my roommate and we were messing around on Omegle. Basically, we were just having fun and trolling people. Some of them disconnected right away and some stuck around. Hell, I don’t even remember what we were doing to be honest. We were just being dumb on the cam.

So anyway, we’d been at it for a couple of hours when we clicked into a chat that looked like the cam was turned off. We goofed off at the cam for a minute and were just about to disconnect when a voice spoke up. It was hard to describe… it sounded like a kid but flat and monotonous with a disturbingly eerie undercurrent. It said, “Can I come in?”

“Come in where?” I asked the voice as I peered closer at the computer screen. That’s when I noticed that the other cam wasn’t completely dark — I could see a faint shadow moving around. It must’ve been another Omegle troll, I figured. My roommate gave me an odd look but I ignored her and kept looking at the other cam and trying to make out the person’s features.

“In there. It won’t take long.” the voice answered.

I decided to play along. “Well, first we have to know where you’re at.” My roommate gave me another odd look.

“I’m nearby. Can I come in?” it replied. Something about this voice was really starting to creep me out. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. By this time my roommate was just staring at me and it looked like she wanted to say something but couldn’t decide how to say it. I peered closer at the computer screen to try and see who I was talking to; but, all I could see was a faint outline.

“Turn your light on so we can see you.” I said.

There was a momentary silence before the voice responded, “If I do can I come in?”

Rolling my eyes, I chortled slightly as I replied, “Sure. You can come in if you let us see you.” My roommate’s eyes widened in horror as she listened to my conversation with the strange kid. Suddenly, she reached over and slammed the lid of the laptop shut.

“What the hell, Sara? Why’d you do that?”

“Who were you talking to?” she demanded in a tremulous voice.

“That weird kid of course,” I told her as if it were the most obvious thing in the world (and naturally, it was that obvious).

“Shane,” she said, her voice quivering, “there wasn’t anybody there. We never connected to another chat.”

“Bullshit,” I said. I opened the laptop again and looked at the screen. There it was. The chat log from the person we had trolled before the kid with the flat voice began talking to me was still in the browser window. Just as Sara said, we hadn’t connected to anyone else.

Shaken, I decided to go outside for a smoke. I stood up from the couch and headed to the front door and was about to open it when someone knocked on it. I opened the door and looked down at a young boy who looked like he was about 12 years old. “Can I help you?” I asked him.

When he looked up at me, I felt an ice-cold shiver run down my back. Fear such as I’d never experienced in my life froze me to the spot in which I stood. The kid’s eyes were pitch black. I don’t mean just the color of his eyes, I mean his eyeballs. They were the blackest black you could possibly imagine; no iris or pupil was visible… only darkness. Staring into his eyes was like staring into a void from which there was no escape. Then he spoke with the same flat, terrifyingly monotonous voice from the computer.

“Can I come in?” His eyes entranced me and to my horror, I felt my body stepping aside to let the boy into the house, but before he crossed the threshold Sara slammed the door shut in his face and dragged me upstairs and locked us into her bedroom.

For the rest of the night, we both heard the boy knocking on the front door occasionally and asking, “Can I come in? It won’t take long.”

I haven't been on Omegle since.