Who are the black-eyed children?

Black-eyed children are paranormal creatures that resemble children between the ages of 6 and 16, with pale skin and black eyes, who are reportedly seen hitchhiking or panhandling, or are encountered on doorsteps of residential homes. Some claim that children are extra-terrestrials, vampires or ghosts.

The children are said to insist upon entering the vehicle or home of their victim, and are claimed to ooze an overwhelming sense of fear and panic.

Facts regarding the black-eyed children:

· Some people have reported seeing black eyed kids that have “talons” for feet or other demonic attributes, but most sightings are of seemingly normal children

· They’re commonly described as wearing dated clothing or dressing in a manner that is not typical of a normal child of their age

· They always ask for something – something which involves being in closed quarters with you. For example: asking for a ride in your vehicle, or to enter your house in order to use a phone.

· There are no reported stories of what happens when you let one of these children into your home or vehicle. Encounters with these children have only led victims with such unease they have fled.

· The earliest sighting was by Brian Bethel, a journalist, in 1996.

· In 2014, The Daily Star newspaper reported that sighting of black-eyed kids around the world are rising

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Encounters:

Brian Bethel:

“On a spring or summer evening in 1996, Bethel was making his way to his Internet Service Provider Camalott Communications’ office on North 1st Street in Alibene Texas, to pay off his bills. As he innocently scribbled on a check in the dimly lit area before the theatres, intending to drop it in the office’s drop slot, little did he know that this was to be his most frightening night ever. He was seated in his car at the parking lot, when two boys aged 9 to 12 came knocking at his window. The boys, as he described them, were “a somewhat suave, olive-skinned, curly-headed young man” and “a redheaded, pale-skinned, freckled young man“. The boys wore hooded pullovers. The first boy explained that the two of them had come to watch a premier of “Mortal Kombat” at the theatre, but had forgotten their money in their mother’s house. They, therefore, requested a ride to their mother’s house to fetch their money and get back to the theatre. All the while as conversation ensued, Bethel was consumed by an irrational fear. The boy tried to convince him with assurances like: “It wouldn’t take long, they were just two little kids, they didn’t have a gun or anything.” Bethel subconsciously reached out to open his car door, when he suddenly broke his vision of the boy, and came to notice his coal-black eyes, eyes he described as “The sort of eyes one sees these days on aliens or bargain-basement vampires on late night television. Soulless orbs like two great swathes of starless night.” Trying to keep his behavior normal, bethel muttered a few excuses, pulled at the gear, and rushed away with his car. As he stared at the rear-view mirror, he found that the children had just vanished, within seconds”

Anonymous:

“Last night was like any other night, I was switching between listening to music and watching youtube videos with one headphone in so I can hear my infant daughter if she cries, that way my wife can get a full nights sleep (she works at 4am at the hospital every day). When I decide to go lay down in the spare bed in the babies room..

Just as I dosed off I heard a thumping coming from the front porch, startled at first I open my eyes wide and scan the room. Realizing it was most likely my cat scratching himself on the front porch I dose back off. Then again, the thumping. “Damn cat” I got out of bed to run him off the porch only to see he wasn’t there any more, now that I was up again I wasn’t the least bit tired. I figured I’ll just get some tea and check Facebook while I’m up, maybe finish the web series I was watching on youtube..

a few minutes into the video I felt the sudden urge to look up at the kitchen window, there they were..

The tops of two short statured peoples heads cresting the stairs just above my window frame. The people were just short enough to not see in the window but I could see out. I heard no footsteps on my porch as my stomach turned.. but the knock, the knock was a steady hollow thump. The very same thump I had just blamed on my cat. Deciding it was best not to answer I shut my laptop and crept by the door back to the babies room..

I assumed it was some of the people from the low income housing across the road from me that were high or hiding from the cops or maybe looking for my cousin who stays with me often and has many friends over there. The last thing I needed was to try to explain to two stoners that I was trying to sleep even though it was 2am.

It wasn’t until I got to my daughters room that the creepiness set in. The thump had moved from the kitchen to the bedroom windows.. both windows, a room apart thumping in perfect time. These stoners were going to wake up my daughter if I didn’t run them off now. Pissed off I went out to the kitchen, unlocked and opened the door ready to run around to the side of the house and kick some little idiots ass.

It happened then, standing there looking up at me were two 10 or 11 year old boys. The feeling of dread and the smell of mold almost made me vomit.. the smaller of the two then spoke “May we use your telegraph?” Huh? I just stared blankly at these boys, horrified of what I then realized.. their eyes were pitch black. He asked again to use my “telegraph”.

There wasn’t a sound to be heard no crickets chirping, no dogs barking, no cars driving by.. nothing. I tried to play it cool and ignore the fact that he didn’t say telephone, or phone, or cell.. anything that would have made any sense of the situation and calmly replied “I don’t have service at my house sorry.” The expressions on their faces turned to rage as I finished my sentence. Swiftly I shut the door and locked it as quickly as I could, then stumbled back to protect my daughter. I picked her up from her crib and held her close, the fact that she didn’t wake up freaked me out the most but I managed to gather my senses enough to make sure she was still breathing and warm.. everything seemed okay with her.

The thumping on the windows was back, I dropped to the floor as close to the wall as I could and held my little girl in my arms and wept like a child.. I felt helpless and afraid. I lied there for what felt like hours and hours crying and shaking until I heard it, my wifes alarm clock. The thumping stopped the instant the alarm went off and I crept into the master bedroom with the baby. “Whats wrong with you?” My wife asked… “I just had a bad dream” Is all I could mutter out. “okay well give me the baby so I can feed her before work.” I handed my wife the baby and she fed her like any normal day.. I turned on every light in the house and made coffee for her. For some reason just having her awake calmed my nerves enough to pretend like nothing happened.. I walked her out to the car nervously with the baby in my arms.. I asked her not to leave until I walked back in the house. She was put off by the request but did so to humor me. Once I was safely in the house I locked the door again.. and in the house I sat horrified until she got home. I insisted we go to the next town over and stay the weekend at my brothers house… and here I sit horrified while she sleeps in the guest room with my daughter.

Wondering why they stopped when the alarm went off.. I think I know the answer. I was aware of BEKs she wasn’t. Every story I’ve read about them is from someone who already knew about them. Maybe, Just maybe knowledge of them existing is the only reason they visit..

I’m afraid and I’m sorry”.

Anonymous:

“So, it had been a slow trick-or-treat night in our neighbourhood that evening, which is pretty odd in itself. We usually have kids from different areas “dropped off” in ours and have a constant parade at our door. That night I’d say we’d had no more than 8 or 10 groups of kids come by the entire night. It was about 9:30pm and my husband and I were sitting in our family room watching some of those ghost shows based on (supposedly) actual events. Like I said, I don’t believe in that stuff but I do like a good ghost story now and then and it was Halloween and all.

We hadn’t had any activity at the door in over half an hour and it was getting late so we decided to turn the porch light of and let our dog Chloe out of her crate. Chloe is an American Bulldog and is very docile. We only put her in her crate because we were afraid she’d try and get out to “play” with all the kids and I didn’t want to have to chase after her down the street. Also, we didn’t want her to scare any of the kids because she would look a little intimidating to the younger kids.

So, I turned the outside light off let Chloe out and she followed me back to the couch and lay down at my feet. It was getting close to 10:00pm when my husband decided he’d had enough fun for the night and was going to go upstairs, take a shower and get ready for bed. After all, it was Thursday and he still had to get up early the next day. My teenaged son was out with his friends at a local haunted house and wasn’t expected back for another hour or so, so that left me alone on the couch with Chloe.

Now, just because I don’t believe doesn’t mean those shows don’t freak me out a bit, and being alone now watching I’d have to say was kind of “on edge”, as it were. It wasn’t long after I heard the upstairs water for the shower turn on when there came a light “knock – knock – knock” at the front door. My initial reaction was “what the hell, really? It’s almost 10:00 go home…” but soon an uneasy feeling came over me. Why the knock? Our doorbell glows and in the dark and without the porch light it would be extra obvious to anyone there.

I paused. I couldn’t really just ignore it, our front door has a big beveled glass panel and anybody right at the door could see in enough to see someone was in the family room watching TV. It would be pretty rude for me to just sit there and not answer it. “Knock – knock – knock”, again from the door. I glance down at Chloe and she was gone. My gazed followed her usual path to the front door expecting her to be on her way there as she normally does. Nothing, she wasn’t there.

I stood up to look around the room better and found her, crouching by the back door like she was wanting out. However, she never asks to go out like that. She always comes and licks my hand or puts her head on my knee. This was totally out of character for her, and I have to say heightened my anxiety. “Chloe, crate!” I said. She just turned back to look at me like “hell no lady, ain’t movin..”

I yelled up to my husband, but if he was already in the shower I knew there was no chance of him hearing me. “Knock – knock – knock.” About that time a car drove down our street and cast just enough light on the door to where I could see the silhouettes of two small children thru the glass. I instantly felt relief. It was just some kids, probably a couple of my neighbors on their way back home that wanted to stop by and show me their costume or something. I headed to the door and looked back to make sure Chloe wasn’t going to follow, what a great watchdog I thought to myself as she just sat there.

I turned on the porch light when I got to the door and sure enough, I could see thru the glass that it was a couple of pretty small kids. A little late for such young ones I thought and I began to wonder about what kind of parents would let their kids run the streets that late at night. I only opened the door enough to where I could block Chloe’s escape if she decided to grow some balls, which was only about two feet. What struck me immediately as odd was the kids weren’t wearing any costumes; they were in normal street clothes. Also, no customary “Trick-or-treat!” either. I began to feel very uneasy again.

It was a girl and boy. The girl, to my left, was older – I’d say about 11 or 12. I could tell she was blond, but I couldn’t make out any distinct features as our lights are from high above and on columns at the front of the porch so most of the light was coming from behind them. I had not opened the door wide enough for any light from inside to hit them directly. The boy was younger and about a foot shorter, I’d say 8 or 9 and looked to have light brown hair.

The girl very politely spoke up, “Ma’am, can we please come inside and use your phone to call our mom?” As she spoke something in the pit of my stomach was telling me something was wrong. What kid, even at that age doesn’t have a cell phone of their own these days? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had anybody asked to use my home phone. “Um… hun, don’t you have a phone of your own you can call your mom on?” I asked. This was things really got weird. Both kids turned to look at one another like they were going to say something to one another, but neither ever spoke. They both turned back to me and the girl said, “Ma’am, my cell phone battery doesn’t have any charge left in it. Can we please come inside and call our mother. We’re alone out here and my brother is scared.”

I have to admit there were two competing feelings going on inside me. The first, that of a mother’s heart that wanted to help these two small children get to their mom. The other, a sinking fear in my gut that was keeping the other feeling at bay. It was then I noticed that during the short conversation I’d already opened the door a few extra inches which I was completely unaware of doing. I stopped. “Honey, why don’t you give me your mother’s number and I can call her myself.” Another pause and they again looked at one another. After a short moment, they turned back to me and the girl said, “Ma’am, my little brother has to use your bathroom. Can we please come inside while you call our mom?” And with that last statement the little girl moved closer toward the door like she was going just walk on in by me.

As she did, she stepped into the light coming from inside the house and I got my first real good look at her. Solid, jet black eyes – that’s all I could see. That motherly instinct was gone and replaced by terror I don’t think I’ve ever felt in my life. I could feel every hair on my arms and back of my neck standing at attention. I closed the door to where just my face was able to stick out. The little girl stopped and again pleaded, “Please Ma’am we’re really scared and alone out here. We HAVE to come inside. Please help us!” Then, like on cue, both kids began to whimper and cry.

That’s when the fear took over and I shut and locked the door. “I’ll call your mom if you give me the number,” I shouted thru the door, “but I’m not letting you in my house!” I could still see them stand there on the porch, just staring at me thru the beveled glass pane. Part of me wanted to run upstairs to my husband, but the bigger part didn’t want to lose track of where they were. That would have freaked me out even more to not know where they were.

After what seemed like forever, but probably only a few seconds, I decided I’d call my neighbor that lives across the street. As I made my way to the side table by our couch to my phone, I glanced at the back door – Chloe was nowhere to be found. We later found her in the guest room under the bed. When I got to my phone and started to look for his contact info, it was only then the kids stepped away from the door and began to walk to the street.

As they did I walked to the door to get a better look to see where they went, still not calling my neighbor. If you get close enough to the glass you can see out enough to make out peoples shapes, but you can see much detail. Of course, standing that close to the door would make you pretty obvious to anyone outside looking in. From the door, I could see that the kids were still standing under the streetlamp nearest my house, staring at me. As I lifted the phone to my ear after calling, only then did the kids start walking down our street. I met my neighbor out under the lamp once he was out there, but the kids were nowhere to be seen.”

Anonymous:

“On March 17, 2008 I had my one and only encounter with a black eyed kid. Before my experience I had never heard of anything having to do with the black eyed kids. I was 12. I was sitting outside of a hairdressers in a old Chevy pickup waiting for my mom to get her hair cut. About 15 minutes had passed and I saw some kid walking back and forth along the sidewalk in front of my parked car. At first I thought I recognized him as one of my friends from school so I banged on the front windshield until he looked my way. It was not anyone I knew. At this point I was not scared at all. Not yet. The boy walked over to the side of my car and just stared. Let me tell you.. If you have never seen a black eyed kid, you have no idea what to imagine. Pupils black as the night sky. The boy whispers “You must let me in” and then I locked the car doors and ducked down into the space below the seats. Five minutes later he was gone. When my mother got into the car she told me a boy with black eyes had come into the hairdressers and had insisted for my mother to give him the keys to the car. She refused……thank God she did”

Anonymous:

“This really freaked me out… Yesterday I noticed my neighbor hadn’t put out all his Halloween decorations/lights/etc. The past two years I’ve lived next to him he’s gone all out for Halloween. I don’t know him well, he’s younger, single, but I know he likes kids (not in a creepy way). His brother and sister-in-law and their kids are always visiting him and he plays with his three young nieces and nephews out in the yard. So anyway, I got home from work and was walking up my driveway and I saw him outside and said something like “Hey man, you better get your Halloween stuff up or that house up the street is going to beat you for best decorations.” He kind of smiles sheepishly and says that he’s actually going to keep his house dark this year and just put candy out. I asked if he was going out of town, but he said no, something happened last year that really scared him.

Now I was concerned for my own safety if some weirdos were coming around our neighborhood (which is a pretty safe neighborhood with tons of young families living here), so I asked him what happened. He said last year he had his brother’s family over so they could trick-or-treat in the neighborhood since they live in an apartment complex that doesn’t do much for Halloween. He had a bunch of kids come to the door like always. His family took off around 10:30 and there were only a few older trick-or-treaters, but by 11:30 they were pretty much done. So he was inside, watching TV and the doorbell rings. He grabs the candy bowl and heads over, noticing that it’s a little past midnight and that’s pretty rude for trick-or-treaters to still be out, but then notices he hasn’t turned off all his decoration lights yet, so his house is still a beacon. He swings the door open and is about to yell “BOO!” or something to freak them out, but stops dead when he sees the kids at the door.

He said one was probably around 13-14 and the other around 16-17 (both boys). They weren’t dressed up, but he remembers the older one was wearing a flannel checkered shirt. He was immediately overcome with uneasiness, like opening the door was a huge mistake. They just stared at him and he noticed they had really big irises and dilated pupils. He couldn’t even see the whites of their eyes, so he figured they were contact lenses. He was frozen there holding the candy bowl, like he couldn’t slam the door in their face as much as he wanted to. So he nervously tried to smile at them hoping they would “break character” and ask for candy or something. The younger one said they had gotten lost and needed to come in and use his phone. That was when he closed the door more than halfway on them and said “No, sorry” and the older one said something like “Can we just wait in your house until our parents come get us?” but by then he was convinced that his life was in danger and these kids must be high on something or intending to rob him and he just kept mumbling “No, sorry, goodnight” as he inched the door closed and locked it.

He told me he was so fucking scared at that point that they were going to try to break in through one of his windows or something, but he looked through the peephole and they had turned to leave. He watched TV with the volume really low so he could hear any sounds at all and he said he stayed up till like 5 am because he was too scared to go to bed and drop his guard. The whole time he’s telling me this I’m thinking oh my god, this sounds so familiar, just like the Black-eyed kids urban legend. Then I thought hey, maybe this dude is trying to scare me because after all, he does have the Halloween spirit…so I’m looking at him incredulously but trying not to seem too gullible. So I’m like “Man, that is really crazy, sounds like the Black-eye kids.” He just looks at me blankly, “The what, is that a movie or something?” and I said no, but told him to go look it up online.

Like an hour later I get a knock on my door (and admittedly, almost jump out of my skin thinking it’s a demon child). It was my neighbor and his eyes were freaking huge. He swears to me up and down that he had never heard of the BEKs before and it’s so similar to what happened to him. So we talked awhile longer and I told him that quite a few people probably know about that urban legend and it’s possible it was just teenagers with black scleral contacts trying to freak people out on Halloween (which would be genius, by the way). But he said the fear he felt was so primal and came over him the second he opened the door for them”

Anonymous:

“The incident took place about 13 years ago. I had just moved to a new city with my wife. We were small town newlyweds from the Midwest. We moved cross country to one of the biggest city’s in the Southwest so I could attend graduate school. Being naive and new to city living, I habitually answered the door without a second thought. Never again after this.

The first thing that should have tipped me off to the peculiarity of this situation was the fact that someone was knocking at 6:00 in the morning. The second thing that should have dawned on me is this kid had to reach over a rather tall patio gate to unlatch and open it.

The knock at the door was startling. My wife and I were getting ready for work, a pretty normal routine. The moment I opened the door, I was overtaken with an inexplicable sense of fear. To this day, I can picture him. Teenager, average height, average build, knee length black leather coat, short black hair and sunglasses. The sunglasses at 6:00 a.m. struck me as odd and even more odd, he was eating an apple. He was very polite and asked if he could come in and warm up. I said, “No”, closed the door and slid the security chain in to place. A moment later, another knock. I opened the now chained door, and before I could speak he asked again if he could come in and warm up. “NO!” I reply and attempted to close the door. Before the door could shut, he put his hand out stopping the door on its hinges. He looked directly in to my eyes, still wearing his sunglasses, and said, “Can I at least get some ketchup for my apple?”. “Fuck that!” I reply, albeit a little confused. “Get the hell outta here! My wife is calling the police!”. He takes a moment to let this information sink in, lowers his glasses, revealing eyes as black as obsidian and says, “No. You won’t be calling anybody.”. At that moment I force the door closed, lock it, and call out to my wife, she is scared shitless hiding in the bedroom. All jacked up on adrenalin, I rip the curtains back to look out the window next to the door. He’s gone. Absolutely no trace of him. I go out on the patio and check the gate, it’s still latched from the inside. That was fucked up, I think to myself and as I turn to enter the house I notice a half eaten apple lying on the ground.”