Eyes of the Soulless

“Amie!” I scream, banging my fists desperately against the glass door. My daughter, or what little I can see of her curly, auburn hair, doesn’t move. My sweet Amie’s head is cocooned between two male figures that I assume are her kidnappers. Strangely, they are as statuesque as my daughter. A sob catches in my throat and I scream, “Amie!” once more, pushing fruitlessly against the door frame. At the sound of the door rattling in its frame, one of the kidnappers slowly gets up and shambles to the door. It’s too dark for me to see much until the man is just a few steps away from me. As he comes into view, I gasp and physically force myself not to step back. At a glance, the man seems human, aside from a very pale face and stringy hair. But upon closer inspection, his face isn’t just pale—it’s white. And his mouth looks like a squiggly pink line under two coal-black eyes. Or rather what should be his eyes. There’s no reflection of light, and no eyelashes, eyelids, or even the whites of eyeballs: just pure black discs. 

“Are you done looking?” a silky, syrupy voice asks right next to my ear. I scream and jump back, glancing wildly around. The voice, along with another more raspy one, chuckles menacingly. My heart, which had been beating quite fast for some time, somehow manages to find the strength to beat even faster. I glance around fearfully, fully expecting more strange… things to pop out of the foggy landscape around me. The laughter grows louder, and as it does, I realize the Adam's apple of the kidnapper in front of me is moving, almost like he’s talking… or laughing… except his mouth is closed. How could he…

The laughter reaches a crescendo as the other kidnapper comes to stand next to the first, dragging a limp Amie behind him. His Adam's apple is also moving as my brain slowly comes to the horrible, imposible conclusion that the kidnappers are the ones laughing. Laughing despite both their lips still looking like squiggly pink lines. 

For a split second, I feel the urge to run. Run far away from… whatever these creatures are, and never look back. 

But I can’t. My child is depending on me.

“G-give me back my daughter!” I shout, my voice shaking only the slightest bit. 

The laughter stops. The kidnapper holding my baby girl tilts his head, his empty eyes seeming to study me. 

“Why?” he asks, his throat moving and his voice raspy. 

For a second the question startles me, and I nearly step back. Then I steady myself. These creatures, monsters, can’t hurt me. I reassure myself. They’re on the other side of the locked door. 

“You took her. She’s my daughter and I want her back!!”

“You want her back?” The first kidnapper who has the silky, syrupy voice says with a hint of surprise. 

“Yes,” I say firmly. 

The two kidnapers turn their heads to face each other for a moment and then turn back to face me. “Okay,” they respond simultaneously. 

I blink, a little surprised at how easy it is to convince them to return Amie to me. A tinge of doubt forms in my mind. But I push it away. The kidnappers are behind a firmly locked door. A door, I realize with a start, that they can open from their end. And I will have to let them, in order to get my daughter back. Why hadn’t I thought of this before? As soon as the door is open they will come out and do something to Amie and me, something I need to stop at all costs.  My eyes roam the surrounding area, searching for anything I can use. A pole, a knife, a branch, anything. But I can’t see anything helpful through a thick fog that is just a few feet from my nose. I groan, mentally banging my head against a wall at my stupidity. Why hadn’t I thought about why the kidnappers would be so willing to give up my baby girl? Why hadn’t I asked them questions? Why? Why? Wh- Thud. 

I glance up, startled, and see my daughter lying lifeless on the ground several feet to the left of the door. 

Amie! 

Forgetting my worries about the kidnappers attacking us, I run to my baby girl. Less than half a dozen feet from her, I hear a Click in the direction of the doorway. I blink, suddenly remembering the kidnappers, and turn that way just in time to see one of them remove his hand from the closed door. Wait a minute. The closed door. I frown. Why did they close the door, unless there was something or… someone that they didn’t want near them? Subconsciously, I glance towards my daughter, but I shake the worries off. I was watching the whole time and there was no way they could’ve done anything to Amie without me seeing. Since I didn’t see anything, that means Amie is fine. Just unconscious. Maybe the kidnappers were really just a bunch of masked kids that got bored of teasing us and decided to let my child go.  

Are you sure? Their faces look pretty real. Their eyes, especially

My subconsciousness reminds me, but I ignore it and take a couple steps towards my daughter. “Amie, are you okay?” 

No answer: my subconscious gets louder. 

Your daughter never ignores you. Are you sure she’s fine? 

Again, I shake off the doubts. Amie is fine: I was watching the whole time, and if they were doing something, she would’ve moved. She just hadn’t heard me. I creep forward a few more steps, making my voice louder as I do. 

“Amie, sweetheart, answer me. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” 

“No, mother,” responds the still figure of my daughter. 

I breathe a quiet sigh of relief. Amie is fine. 

Are you sure? 

My subconsciousness nearly shouts this time. 

She’s never called you mother before. And she’s not moving.

Shut up, I tell myself. It’s fine. She’s fine. There’s no one else it could be. 

Walking a few more steps and then crouching, I call out to Amie. “Amie, come here, sweetheart, and hug your mom” 

For a minute, there’s no movement and no response. Then, slowly, Amie comes up onto her hands and knees, her face still pointing towards the ground. After another long moment, she says, “Yes, mother” again, and I realize that my subconsciousness might be right. 

But it’s too late now, because Amie’s lunging towards me, which would be cute, except it’s not my beautiful baby girl’s cornflower eyes and rose-pink lips I see, but a pale face with coal black, soulless eyes, and a pale pink line for lips. I scream, frozen in panic. I scream louder as the ‘lips’ open, and open, and open, revealing a deep, endless inky blackness that is darker than anything I have ever seen.  In the distance, I swear I can hear laughter as the ‘mouth’ gets closer, and closer, and closer—

Still screaming, I shoot upright in my bed, my body covered in sweat and the covers tangled around my legs. After a minute, I realize that nothing has happened to me. I quickly reach over to turn on my lamp light, my screams dying and my heartbeat slowing as I see the familiar sight of my bedroom. Slowly, I sink back into bed, and then just as quickly shoot up again when I hear a noise from the hall. Throwing back my covers, I open my bedroom door and dart into the hall, fear clouding my mind. 

What if my dream was a premonition? What if my daughter is being kidnapped right this moment and I won’t reach her in time? What if— 

“Mom?” I jump a foot in the air, my heart rate skyrocketing. Once my feet touch firm ground again, I flick the light switch behind me on. Relief courses through me. I feel the happiest I’ve been all night and possibly all week as I see my daughter’s cornflower blue eyes peering up at me and her rose pink lips twisted into a puzzled frown. My daughter, Amie, is safe. I am safe. It was just a nightmare.

“Yes swee— honey?” 

“I heard screaming coming from your bedroom. Are you okay?” Amie looks genuinely worried at the thought of me, her invincible Mom, not being okay.

I smile happily at my daughter. “I am now that I see you. Do you want me to tuck you back into bed?” Amie nods, and together we head into her pink-painted, stuffed-animal-filled bedroom without a nightmare in sight.