Information


Saeyer has a minion!

Elias the Dark Baby Ghost




Saeyer


The Graveyard Mahar
Owner: fly

Age: 3 years, 9 months, 3 weeks

Born: July 31st, 2009

Adopted: 3 years, 9 months, 3 weeks ago (Legacy)

Adopted: July 31st, 2009 (Legacy)

Statistics


  • Level: 15
     
  • Strength: 50
     
  • Defense: 36
     
  • Speed: 11
     
  • Health: 15
     
  • HP: 15/15
     
  • Intelligence: 3
     
  • Books Read: 2
  • Food Eaten: 3
  • Job: Unemployed


Saeyer
say-err

When I was a child they watched me from the cracks beneath doors, the spaces between moldings, the backs of half-shut drawers. There were no eyes under my bed, no creaking in the closet, but more a muffled, ever-present tingling on the back of my neck. I never saw something move behind me when I glanced toward a mirror in a dark room, but I never once misunderstood that I was not alone.

I flicked the light switch as soon as I went into a dark room, reducing the space in which they could move. Most nights I could fall into an uneasy sleep but there was an odd night, perhaps an odd moon, every few months when I would lay there all night, curled up on my side staring straight at the white walls. My thoughts were loud and abrasive, the preoccupation with night terrors rendering me a temporary insomniac.

I read in a National Geographic that, in a deep forest in India, people wore masks on the backs of their heads to trick tigers into thinking they were looking at them. They believed that the tiger would hesitate if it thought you were looking at it, waiting for an easier kill; I thought it was similar to the way some people stare at spiders from across a room, daring them to move.

In my own way I understood they weren't real. There was no phantom entity hanging behind me as I walked up the stairs, no solid shadow lurking in the spaces under chairs until it could snatch at my ankles. The problem was that it didn't matter: I could tell myself every two seconds but it didn't help. Simply knowing wasn't enough: it just made me begin to feel as if they were manifesting themselves out of my mind.

I started drawing eyes on the walls of my room. Small ones, where no one could see, but then they grew larger and more numerous and swarmed up from behind my bed like strange bugs. They were painted crudely, smudged on with charcoal, scratched into the paint. I thought that if I could trick them into thinking someone was watching, they'd leave me alone.

I don't know how old I was when I found Elias, one night, crouched beside my bed. He was a child like me, but burned black and hairless, either mouthless or mute. His eyes were bright and he scared me beyond reason. He was the same as the watchers but different: he stepped out and made himself real to me. He was mine, an errant thought, but one that had enough strength to make itself known.

After the first few times I saw him whenever I was frightened in the night I would visualize my room, my eyes shut tight, with Elias standing next to the bed. He didn't move, he simply stood there but his presence kept all the smaller ones at bay. I wasn't the only one he scared. It was difficult for my child mind to reconcile terror with the ineffable gentleness I felt from him; he was both terrible and reassuring.

When I was older I couldn't remember if that article was real or if I had dreamed it; so many stories I read or films I saw developed the surreal quality of dreams in my memories. I looked the article up and actually read until the end this time.

I realized as I grew that his presence was not quite right. So many children have imaginary friends, but this was different. Later I covered myself in tattoos of eyes, all shapes and styles, in preparation for the day when he left me, as imaginary friends are supposed to. But he remains, tucked into the corners of rooms when I shut my eyes.

The masks only tricked the tigers for so long.

Pet Treasure


Ghost Rats

Curious Red Glare

Dhemon

Midnight Monster Severed Hand

Counts Malicious Stare

Pet Friends