“It was a dark and stormy ni—”

“Nobody starts a scary story like that anymore daddy!” my daughter giggled, “I want a real really scary story!” I wiped the sleep from my eyes. I felt so much more tired than normal—like something had sucked the life out of me. It had been a long day

“Alright, alright, I can tell you a real scary story. It happened to my cousin.”

“Uncle Ricky?”

“No, my cousin. Now hush up or you aren’t getting a story at all.” My daughter settled into her bed and pulled the blanket up a little. I set the book I was holding on her nightstand and turned the light in her room down.

“This story was told to me by my aunt Stephanie. Her son—my cousin— Mort, lived in the high mountains in Colorado. One year, for his birthday, Stephanie went to go visit him. It get’s quite cold in Colorado around the time of Mort’s birthday, especially in the mountains. This year there was a heavy snow, and Mort’s house was so far off the beaten path that they couldn’t safely leave his house. She said the winds were so strong that even the big trees would bend against them.

“One night, the winds were incredibly strong. They had locked up the whole house, and shut the windows good and tight, but they could still hear the windows rattling. The fire would flicker nearly out every once in a while when a strong wind caught in the chute. She said they sounded like wolves snarling. Anyways, Mort and Stephanie decided to pass the time telling stories. You see, there were no computers back then, and with the storm the television and phone lines were out. So they took turns telling stories. Stephanie told a couple from Chaucer, and Mort told a few that he knew from his studies at school. Mort complained for most of the night that he felt tired, but Stephanie kept him talking.

“Mort finally got around to telling a story about The Seer, which was a scary story told out at his college. The Seer is a man that went insane studying about immortality. According to Stephanie, The Seer had his wish for immortality granted, but at the cost of his body. He became a spirit in the night, invading the bodies of people, and making them do terrible things. One man murdered his wife and children. Another woman drowned a passerby in the lake. The only way to escape The Seer was to kill the person he had invaded in a very specific way.”

“How did they find that out?” My daughter interrupted.

“Well, you see, people had tried stabbing their assailants, breaking their necks, and so on, and the body kept coming for them. But on one very stormy night, not unlike the night Stephanie and Mort were telling stories, The Seer invaded a man asleep in his bed, and set him off to kill his wife. When the seer invades a body, he acts, talks, and looks the same, but there’s almost always something slightly different, like the color in their eyes is too bright. For the wife, the happy glow of her husband was gone, and, panic-stricken, she grabbed a kitchen knife and stabbed out his eyes. Blinded, The Seer had to abandon the body and recover far away. You see, the eyes are the gateway to the soul, and from their The Seer enters.

“Mort finished this same story and went they each went to bed. That night, Stephanie could hear the wind howling at her window, like something was trying to get in. But eventually, she fell asleep. Stephanie woke a few hours later to a crash in the living room, like a vase shattering. She slipped into her nightgown, and walked out into the living room. ‘Mort?’ she whispered. ‘Mort was that you?’ Mort walked around the corner from the kitchen. ‘Oh, thank God it’s just you. Something—” but she stopped short. You see, it was at this time that Stephanie noticed that Mort had a thick butcher knife in his hand. ‘Mort, what are you doing?’ she said with horror. Mort slinked closer to her, and raised his arm high above his head. ‘Mort no!’ she cried out. He brought the knife down, but she just barely avoided the fatal strike. Instead, he cut deep into her arm. She ran for the kitchen, and grabbed a huge pot from a drawer.

“She could hear Mort behind her, and she flung the pot at him. He avoided it and looked at her. She could see that his eyes were a deep red, like something possessed. She realized with horror what had happened. She grabbed a slightly smaller pot, and this time hit his wrist with it. He dropped the knife in shock. Stephanie picked it up and stabbed into his left eye. He screamed in pain and fell to the floor. Stephanie stepped back and dropped the knife. Tears came unbidden to her eyes. She turned back to the counter and cried. Then suddenly she heard a noise, and she spun around. Mort was back on his feet. ‘Why mother?’ he said with a hoarse voice ‘Why did you do this to me.’ She froze, her vision blurry from her tears. She started to brush them away, to apologize, then suddenly felt a cold pain in her stomach. Horrified, she looked into Mort’s right eye, and saw it there, unblinking, and red. He stabbed her two, three, four more times, then let her slide to the floor. Then Mort’s body too sunk to the floor, and a wisp of air rush out of the house as the spirit left. The Seer had struck again.”

“Wait wait wait. You said that your aunt told you this story. How could she do that if she were dead?” My daughter giggled, “that wasn’t a real story!” She laughed, and I laughed to.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. You remember that scientist I told you about? The one that became The Seer? Well, some character traits die-hard. For him, it was vanity. He always felt like he had to remind people about who he was. He loved to tell people his story.”

“Wait so then how do you know the story daddy?” She asked.

“Well you see,” I paused and looked her dead in the eyes, “I am The Seer.”


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