People Worldwide Have Reported Terrifying Encounters With Black Eyed Kids

It’s late at night and you are getting ready for bed when there is a sudden knock on the door.  Wary, you walk slowly to the front door and look through the peephole.  You feel a splash of relief when you see only two young kids, a boy and a girl, both around 12 or 13, wrapped up in hooded sweatshirts to ward against the blustery night.  You pull open the large wooden door, leaving the screen door shut, and greet them.  But suddenly that strange feeling returns; something doesn’t seem right.  You inquire as to what they want, and the taller one responds, keeping her head bowed slightly “We have to use your phone.  We’re lost.”  Unsure, you consider your response when the one who spoke raises her head slightly and you feel overcome with fear.  Her eyes are completely black.  You slam the door shut and run to your bedroom.  She calls out to you once more to open the door.  Shaking, you hesitate.  Just a moment later, you slowly rise and look out your window.  The porch is empty.  They are gone.

The Internet is full of stories like the one above, personal experiences that involve kids with eyes that are completely black.  Not just the pupil, but the iris and sclera as well.  They all seem to have a common theme.  They are always kids.  They try to gain access to your home or to get you to open your car door.  Much of their behavior is reported as just “off”.  For example, they may speak haltingly or with a strange cadence.  Their clothing is often out of season or style.  They report being lost or needing to come in but seem to have no normal sense of urgency.

There are several possibilities that aren’t supernatural, of course.  It could just be a prank.  Black sclera lenses can be purchased online easily.  But they are rather expensive, and they severely limit the vision of the wearer to a tunnel, which would make navigation and quick escape difficult.  They are also uncomfortable to wear.  While it seems like an obvious case at first, the reality is that many kids or teenagers across the world would need to have the means to purchase expensive contacts and then the ability to wear them and still maneuver around.  Second, it could just be people telling stories on the Internet.  Possible, for sure.  However, again, there are plenty of personal experiences posted on many different sites online.  The third possibility?  Well, that they exist.

For those that consider them to be real, they offer many theories for about what they could be, but that is obviously up for speculation.

“For the first time, I noticed their eyes. They were coal black. No pupil. No iris.”

One of the most famous examples comes from an American journalist named Brian Bethel. On January 16, 1998, Bethel posted on an online messageboard, describing his apparent encounter with a pair of creepy children who had solid black eyes.  He also recounted the experience in an article for Reporter News.

A couple other examples gathered from the Internet:


So, last night I was in my living room reading some stories about the BEKs and the real life Men In Black (those are worth a read too if you’re into weird UFO conspiracies). It was around 2:30 am and my dog went to the door like he had to go out. I started to get up and he started growling at the door. He has never growled at anything in his life, he’s only 6 months old. Then my other dog jumped up on the couch, trembling and whining, she’s a year old.

Needless to say, this unnerved me, since I was reading about creepy stuff and was already a little freaked out. So, I just sat back on the couch and held my older dog, trying to calm her down. Then came a knock on the door. Usually, my dogs go wild, barking and whining excitedly because they love people, but my 6 month old puppy ran away from it and came over by me. At this point, my heart was racing and I was just terrified.

All the lights in my house were off and the curtains were drawn. I don’t have a peephole so I peeked out through the blinds of the window behind me that over looked the porch. There were two boys standing there. One looked to be around maybe 5, he was really little, and the other one was about 10, I ‘d say. They had their heads down and were wearing winter clothes, heavy jackets. I thought this was weird because it’s in the summer…then, they both turn to look up at me.

I don’t have a bulb in my porch light, so I couldn’t see their faces but they looked directly at the window. This freaked me out even more, so I moved away from the window and just sat on my couch. I couldn’t believe that this was happening. I had heard that if you “knew about them” then “they would visit you” and I just kept trying to convince myself that these were just some young kids playing a prank or something, that this wasn’t really happening. However, this felt very real.

Then one of them spoke, it sounded like it may have been the older one. “Ma’am, can you let us in? It’s really cold out here and my brother is hungry” I didn’t move, didn’t reply. I was immediately alarmed because I had no idea how they knew I was a “ma’am” I just sat there on my couch. The voice sounded void of emotion and a lot more calmer and somehow older than the little person talking. What the hell would two young kids be doing out at this time of night anyway? Plus, it’s June, in Alabama, it isn’t cold by any means.

I felt this overwhelming sense of dread and knew if I opened the door, something awful would happen. I had read the stories and I thought “nope, not gonna answer the door, fuck this.” It was really weird though, because no matter how scared I was, and how none of this made sense. I almost felt compelled to go to the door. Like, I had an urge to help them.

I suppressed it the best I could and ignored them anyway. Then the same voice said “ma’am, please let us in, I saw you through the window, I know you’re there. It will only take a moment” I was like okay, wtf “moment”…? What kid says that? I was frozen in fear and just refused to answer them at all. I waited for them to go away, and didn’t dare look out my window because I just knew they were right next to it and would be staring back at me with pitch black eyes. Then, after a few seconds of silence, they started pounding on my window and I heard the same voice again.


I honestly couldn’t believe what I was hearing, it sounded just like what happened in all the stories I’ve been reading. At this point I was almost in tears, I was so freaked out. My heart felt like it was gonna bust of my chest. I still stayed silent and didn’t answer the door. I just sat back against the arm of my couch and held my legs up to my chest. There was no way I was answering that fucking door.

I stayed that way for about half an hour, until I was sure they were gone and everything was quiet. My dogs at this point had ran into my room and I had to go get them out and hold them because I was just terrified and needed some kind of comfort. I never saw these kids’ eyes, I have no idea for sure if they were BEKs, but I definitely believe that they were. I grabbed my phone and called my friend who had suggested I read the stories and woke her up and begged her to come stay the night with me. After I told her what happened, she agreed right away. About 15 minutes later, she still wasn’t here. I started to get worried, because she only lives on the next street over. It should have taken her not even 5 minutes to get here. Then at that point, I saw headlights in my driveway and looked out the window. I saw her get out of her car and run to my door, banging on it.

I let her in immediately, and she was crying, had this terrified look on her face, and said “you aren’t gonna believe this, but I swear to God I just encountered the two kids you told me about.” She said she was at a stop sign, and checked her phone for a second when this kid knocked on her window. It startled her, so she looked up and strangely, the street lights were out so she couldn’t see his face, but there was another younger kid behind him. She cracked the window, already apprehensive, and said “can I help you?” And the kid said “give us a ride.” In a demanding, overly confident voice for a child.

She didn’t say anything and the kid stepped toward her car, and he was close enough now that she noticed he had jet black eyes, wall to wall black, no white. She said she wanted to drive way immediately, but felt like she was being pulled into his stare, almost opening her door before she snapped out of it, but she didn’t. She gunned the gas pedal and went straight to my house. We stayed up the rest of the night.

According to the stories, they usually pay you more than one visit, so I’m gonna take a shit ton of melatonin and knock myself out tonight to try to sleep right through, in case they decide to come again. Believe me or not, this really happened. On Stevens Ave in 5 pts. Right here in Huntsville. Lock your doors and windows and ignore any child that comes to your door asking for help. Especially if it’s at night.



I’m a small town girl. My husband is an elementary school teacher, and we just relocated to Toronto so he could teach at some fancy private school in the downtown area while I work towards my graduate degree at U of T. We’re very lucky, relatively well off financially do in no small part to my considerable trust fund and my husband’s job. So we bought ourselves a nice Victorian home a few blocks from the school where my husband works, and despite the stress of moving, it’s been a dream—that is, until tonight. I know what you’re thinking, but surprisingly, this has nothing to do with the house.

Tonight began like any other. My husband was upstairs in his study, grading quizzes. I was downstairs on the couch, watching Netflix and putting off my schoolwork. It was about 11:53pm. There was a knock at the door.

Now, back home this wouldn’t have been the least bit concerning—it might have been any number of friends or relatives popping in to say hello. But like I said, my husband and I are new to the city and neither of us have made any real friends yet, nor are our neighbours particularly friendly people. So, a midnight caller on a Tuesday night struck me as very peculiar, but I did what so many of us are apt to do and ignored my misgivings. I attributed the strange, twisted feeling in my stomach to the lateness of the hour and my own paranoia at the dangers of the city after 23 years drifting between small, rural communities. I was stupid. I answered the door.

Never answer the door.

There, on my front steps, stood two very small, very cold looking children. I should have been relieved. But something about these particular children seemed…off. They couldn’t have been more than 7 or 8 years old. In the porch-light, they looked like twins; black hair, paper skin, heads tilted downwards, like they were too shy to look me in the eyes. Their colours seemed muted somehow, unnaturally bleak, but I couldn’t focus enough to take in the exact details. I couldn’t tell you what they were wearing: from the moment I opened the door, I could focus on nothing but the tops of their heads. I’m not sure why—there was nothing extraordinary about the sleek blackness of their hair. Yet somehow, I couldn’t seem to look anywhere else.

In retrospect, I should have slammed and dead-bolted the door right then. But all I knew for certain at that point was my reaction to them—namely, that these two little children were as frightening to me as any masked, knife wielding stranger might have been. The atmosphere in my house had changed the moment I opened the door. It felt like the air itself had become heavy, saturated with a fear that was almost tangible. These children were in front of me, and I felt utterly surrounded.

But I didn’t slam the door. My conscience wouldn’t allow it. After all, these were two small, melancholy children, alone on my porch in the middle of the night. I asked them what was wrong.

“Can you help us?” One of them asked. “Please let us in,” said the other.

Their voices were the same, exactly the same—high, clear, saccharine. Unnatural.

There was no way I was allowing those children into my house. Still, my moral compass would not allow me to turn them away. If I turned on the news the next day and saw that something had happened to them, how could I ever forgive myself? So I did the only thing I felt I could do in that instance: I told them I didn’t think it would be a good idea for them to come inside, but that they could use my cell phone and call their parents from the porch if they liked.

They did not even seem to hear me.

“Can you help us? Please let us in!”

They spoke at the same time, down to the second. If I was frightened before, I was terrified now. I immediately closed the door a few inches, told them no, asked them to leave. For the first time, I managed to tear my eyes away from the top of their heads. It was like their faces were repelling my gaze, fighting against it. But I managed to focus with great difficulty, and I wish I hadn’t. Their skin was like literal porcelain, or perhaps some sort of stone—hard and white and very, very dead. They had no mouths. Their noses were just black holes in the middle of their faces. And then, finally, they looked up, and I saw their eyes. They were completely black, perhaps obsidian—the whole entire eye, no iris, no pupil—just black.

For a moment, I froze. My heart nearly stopped beating. But somehow I managed to regain whatever sense I had left in my head and I knew I needed to get the hell away from them. I slammed the door in their faces, dead bolted it, called for my husband, even went so far as to grab a frying pan from the kitchen in case I needed a weapon, but it was all for naught. They made no move to actually get into the house—they just stood there on the porch, silent and waiting, for almost forty-five minutes. I considered calling the cops, but I doubted they would take me seriously.

It’s been almost an hour now, and I haven’t been able to make myself look out the window since. My husband has been keeping tabs—he says even now, he can see their silhouette as they walk down the empty street, hand in hand. I wonder where else they’ll stop tonight. One thing is for sure: if you live in Toronto and you see these…entities… DO NOT allow them into your house. I’m not sure what will happen, but I know it won’t be good. Please, be vigilant. Stay safe.

Whatever the case, the Black Eyed Kids stories are intriguing and creepy.  If you are interested in more reported personal encounters, the thoughtcatelog has collected many from around the Internet.