❝𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞 𝕛𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕝❞creepypasta investigation

i saw him⁽ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ⁾

₊ ⊹₊ ⊹☣︎♰☣︎⊹₊ ⊹₊ 

*i saw him, was I hallucinating? (06/04/2023)

This is an old experience that i had noted down in my journal.

I had woken up at ca. 6am and saw this human like shadow by the balcony door. The room was dimly lit, simply by my nightlight, but the blinds were closed, meaning there couldn't be a shadow of a person from outside, but again i let it pass.

I thought nothing of it until it grew taller and taller. Our door is almost 3meters tall, but that shadow actually reached the ceiling. I swear the figure looked like Him. 

I have tried to find a normal explanation, but all doors and blinds were closed, there was nothing in my room in the shape of a person (as a cloth hunger for exmple). I really still thing of that and feel uneasy...

After I saw the shadow this beeping started and it went on for at least half an hour. I tried to find where it was coming from but i couldn't. Maybe it was an alarm? I asked my grandpa about it and he has no idea, nor did he hear anything.

I later on searched up morse code and it sounds EXACTLY  like the beeping i heard. But morse code? How could that be?

It is entirely possible that since I was not "fully awake" my subconscious mind could have shown me something which was not really there. I acknowledge this to be a distinct possibility, but I am including this experience because it still influences my thinking.

₊ ⊹₊ ⊹☣︎♰☣︎⊹₊ ⊹₊ 

ᓚᘏᗢ- rewrite!

"In the darkest depths of the night, when the line between reality and the abyss of nightmares blurs, I saw Him. But was it merely a trick of the mind, or had I stumbled upon a terror far beyond comprehension?"

June 4th, 2023, presented itself as an ordinary day, much like any other, but as the sun dipped below the horizon, the ordinary ceased to exist. It was a night that would etch itself into the fabric of my being, a haunting memory that refused to be silenced.

The room where I sought refuge from the world, my bedroom, was bathed in the soft glow of a nightlight, casting shadows that danced upon the walls with every flicker. The blinds were drawn, a barrier against the encroaching darkness outside. It was in this semi-lit sanctuary that I first saw Him—a shadow, eerily human-like, stationed by the balcony door.

At first glance, the shadow seemed innocuous, a trick of the light, perhaps. But as minutes stretched into eternity, the shadow began to morph, growing taller and taller until it reached the ceiling. Our door, almost 3 meters in height, was dwarfed by this entity. The figure, unmistakably Him, stood silent, a sentinel of the night.

Panic gripped my heart as I searched for a logical explanation. The room was sealed, the doors and blinds closed tightly, eliminating the possibility of an external source. There was nothing in my room, no coat hanger or piece of furniture, that could cast such an ominous figure.

As if the sight of Him wasn't terror enough, a beeping began, piercing the silence, relentless in its cadence. It persisted for what felt like an eternity, a sonic specter that I could neither locate nor identify. The thought crossed my mind—could it be an alarm? Yet, when questioned, my grandfather claimed ignorance, the sound having eluded his ears.

Driven by a need for answers, I delved into the world of Morse code, and the realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. The beeping mirrored the Morse exactly, but how? How could Morse code manifest in my room, unbidden and unexplained?

In the aftermath, as I pondered the events, a part of me clung to the rational explanation that perhaps my half-awake state had conjured up a phantasm, a figment of my imagination. Yet, this experience, this encounter with Him and the mysterious beeping, has left an indelible mark on my psyche.

Days turned into weeks, and the haunting did not cease. Objects in my room began to move inexplicably, books would fall from shelves without cause, and the beeping returned, now accompanied by a chilling whisper, a whisper in Morse that spelled out my name. Desperation led me to research the history of my home, uncovering a tale so horrifying it chilled me to the bone.

Decades ago, a cryptographer who had worked in espionage during a forgotten war had made this house his home. His life was shrouded in secrecy, his death even more so. It was rumored that he had been working on a code so powerful, so dangerous, that it could alter the course of history. He vanished without a trace, leaving behind only the echoes of his existence.

The puzzle pieces began to fit together, forming a picture that was as terrifying as it was fascinating. Had I, in my drowsy state, somehow tapped into the remnants of his presence? Was the shadow, the entity, Him, the cryptographer reaching out from beyond the grave, ensnared in his own creation?

The beeping, the Morse, it was all a message, a cry for help or perhaps a warning.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ "In the darkest depths of the night, when the line between reality and the abyss of nightmares blurs, I saw Him. But was it merely a trick of the mind, or had I stumbled upon a terror far beyond comprehension?"

June 4th, 2023, presented itself as an ordinary day, much like any other, but as the sun dipped below the horizon, the ordinary ceased to exist. It was a night that would etch itself into the fabric of my being, a haunting memory that refused to be silenced.

The room where I sought refuge from the world, my bedroom, was bathed in the soft glow of a nightlight, casting shadows that danced upon the walls with every flicker. The blinds were drawn, a barrier against the encroaching darkness outside. It was in this semi-lit sanctuary that I first saw Him—a shadow, eerily human-like, stationed by the balcony door.

At first glance, the shadow seemed innocuous, a trick of the light, perhaps. But as minutes stretched into eternity, the shadow began to morph, growing taller and taller until it reached the ceiling. Our door, almost 3 meters in height, was dwarfed by this entity. The figure, unmistakably Him, stood silent, a sentinel of the night.

Panic gripped my heart as I searched for a logical explanation. The room was sealed, the doors and blinds closed tightly, eliminating the possibility of an external source. There was nothing in my room, no coat hanger or piece of furniture, that could cast such an ominous figure.

As if the sight of Him wasn't terror enough, a beeping began, piercing the silence, relentless in its cadence. It persisted for what felt like an eternity, a sonic specter that I could neither locate nor identify. The thought crossed my mind—could it be an alarm? Yet, when questioned, my grandfather claimed ignorance, the sound having eluded his ears.

Driven by a need for answers, I delved into the world of Morse code, and the realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. The beeping mirrored the Morse exactly, but how? How could Morse code manifest in my room, unbidden and unexplained?

In the aftermath, as I pondered the events, a part of me clung to the rational explanation that perhaps my half-awake state had conjured up a phantasm, a figment of my imagination. Yet, this experience, this encounter with Him and the mysterious beeping, has left an indelible mark on my psyche.

Was it all a message, a cry for help or perhaps a warning?

₊ ⊹₊ ⊹☣︎♰☣︎⊹₊ ⊹₊