Creepypasta Corner

Kenosis

I stared at the screen in disbelief. This has got to be a scam, I thought, scrolling through the email over and over again. If something sounds too good to be true, it probably is. Common sense told me that much, but I couldn't shake the feeling that the details were too fine for this to not be legit. I looked at the attached picture once more and sighed. If this was a scam, it sure wasn't a big one; I mean, a donation of 2000 yen for a lifetime of free service? Maybe I was losing my mind, but that sounded like a risk worth taking even if it turned out to be bullshit. How could I live with myself if I didn't apply for this if it turned out to be true? I already knew I'd beat myself up like there was no tomorrow, and I had no intention of letting that happen. I had to take my chances.

Hovering over the link, I took a deep breath before clicking. As I did, the new tab was consumed by a high-resolution photograph of a woman's eyes. They were brown and beautiful with long lashes, their surfaces glistening in apparent joy. Ironically, she didn't appear to have contact lenses as far as I could tell. Under it was a slogan, bringing new visions to your doorstep. Nothing stood out as suspicious at first glance, nor after I was done reading the about and FAQ sections. This was a legitimate business if there eve

r was one, but I couldn't help but wonder what the catch was.

Filling out the detailed form, I signed up for my share of clarity. Either that, or wasted today's lunch money. Either way, it didn't really matter. The worst case scenario was that someone somehow stole what little amount I had left on my credit card; I hadn't even used it for anything useful in over a year so I wasn't too worried.

A week later, a package was brought to me by a delivery man and I signed the necessary paperwork. It was larger than I'd have expected, definitely containing more than just a pair of lenses. Excited, I sat down on the couch and began to open it. I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. Wrapped inside the paper was a basketball-sized wooden box with a lock on it, the keys to which were taped on the lid. Fragile – handle with care was inscribed on the side. I picked up the key and inspected the box closer. It was a finely crafted object, not at all something you'd expect from an unheard of company. Interesting. My hands trembled in anticipation as I penetrated the lock. Click.

Inside, there was no sign of contact lenses. Instead, there was a slimy gob of pale flesh with a single eyeball attached to it. At first I thought it was dead, but then it turned to look at me and wiggled in a manner reminiscent of a hungry puppy. I was disgusted. Its skin was pearly and sweaty, below the eye was a gaping orifice that oozed a thick clear fluid and inside that orifice was a mess of vestigial bones that some would call teeth. Between them, viscous brown chunks floated in the liquid it was constantly gargling with. I couldn't tell whether that hole was a mouth or an anus. Maybe both. It squealed in a way much like a newborn baby and tried to crawl out.

I closed the lid and set the box on the table, wondering. What could this strange creature be? Was it a human fetus with some kind of a rare birth defect or a strange exotic animal? Why was it given to me instead of the contact lenses that I had ordered? It was then that I noticed the piece of paper that had been included in the package. I started reading it and my confusion only deepened.

Breakfast: 8 AM. Bath time: 9 AM. Morning walk: 9:15 AM... the list went on, detailing the thing's daily activities. I looked at the clock. It was five past eight. What was I supposed to feed it? The list neglected to mention the critter's diet. Even more importantly, how could I get rid of it? If I wanted a pet, I'd have bought one already. Yet, I had an inexplicable feeling of responsibility over this tiny, unwelcome little bastard.

Feeling pity, I decided to drop a piece of chicken in the box and watched it disappear into the thing's maw. It was unable to chew, but the fluid seemed to be just barely corrosive enough to turn the meat into mush over the course of five minutes. The eye rolled around in what I could only describe as happiness and satisfaction, pulsating in its undefined socket. I closed the lid again and went about my day as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.