THE SMILING MAN IS REAL

 This story is from a writer on Reddit. I am not sure if this is true or not but it gave me chills...

The Smiling Man is real. I’m not saying this as some twisted way to gain attention. This isn’t clickbait or some cruel joke either. This is a warning for anyone who finds themselves walking alone in the darkness of the night. He is still out there, prowling whatever street or alleyway for his next victim. Before I tell you about the night that left me scarred for life and subjected me to an existence of constantly looking over my shoulder, I will need to provide a little backstory.

I’m twenty-six years old and live in a major city. I won’t reveal the name of it in case any thrill seekers get any dumb ideas. I work long hours in an office in the middle of the city. The parameters of my job are not important. I spent four years performing the same routine. Get up, take the bus, work, take the bus, come home, repeat.

The day that it happened was like any other day. I took the bus to work, listening to the Archive 81 story for the umpteenth time. I was particularly tired that day due to my upstairs neighbor hosting a get together. I had to fight the urge to drift off so I wouldn’t miss my stop. Thankfully I didn’t and I trudged my way into the office. The workday was pretty normal. I completed mind draining tasks while trying not to drift off. The first unexpected event of the day occurred when my boss asked me to work overtime on a proposal with him.

My normal route to the bus station was a ten-minute walk through a police patrolled park and a couple blocks of alleyways and side-streets. Usually, the sun hadn’t completely set when I walked this path. Since this wasn’t a normal night, the sky was pitch black. The traffic lights were still on, but there was virtually no traffic. I brushed this off to it being late and everyone was already cozy in their homes.

When I entered the park, the silence was deafening. I couldn’t even hear any sounds of nature. No crickets, no birds. Just the sounds of my feet hitting the pavement. I felt slightly anxious by this but wasn’t all that concerned. Every time I look back on my stroll through the park, I cringe at my lack of concern. Even in the dead of night, I would’ve at least heard crickets. But there was nothing.

By the time I exited the park, I was approaching the structures that signaled my entrance back into the city. I wanted to take a shortcut to the bus stop as I didn’t want to spend any more time in the dark. So, I turned down a short side-street as a way to cut my journey in half. The second I turned onto that road; I saw him.

My blood ran cold. At the far end of the street, on my side, was the silhouette of a man dancing.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was the smiling man from the story.

The rational side of my mind tried to reason that it was some drunk guy, but I knew what I was seeing. I mean, the story was about an insane person stalking an unsuspecting man on a nightly stroll. That could actually happen in real life. It was happening right in front of me.

Speaking of the story, he was exactly the way the original author described. His dance was similar to a waltz, in which he indeed finished each box with an odd forward stride. As he danced closer, he passed under a lit lamp and my fears were confirmed.

Although I saw his features for only a split second, I knew he fit the author’s description to a tee. He was tall and lanky, about six eight. The old suit he was wearing was similar to the one I was wearing, except slightly looser and lacking a tie. He had thin shoulder length black hair that swayed in the midnight air as he waltzed closer.

It was his face that scared me the most and I will be forever haunted by it. His eyes were wider than humanly possible, head tilted back slightly, staring off at the night sky. The “painfully wide cartoon of a smile” was stretched across his lips, his teeth as white as the moon. I stood there for what felt like hours, paralyzed and staring in disbelief. I spent my whole life consuming horror stories like it was candy, but never once had a reason to believe any of it was real. Yet here it was. Dance walking towards me.

The realization that he was still coming closer snapped my body out of its trance. I remembered the author’s mistake of attempting to pass him, so I turned back the way I came and went down another side-street. I tried walking as swiftly yet quietly as possible. I feared that provoking him in any way could instigate a chase and I wasn’t ready for that.

When I entered the other side-street, I increased my pace to that of a power walk. I repeatedly glanced over my shoulder, fearing I would see his head poke out. But he was nowhere to be found. I decided to briefly watch the sidewalk in front of me. The idea of him jumping out in front of me covered me with goosebumps. The street and sidewalk in front of me were completely empty. I crossed the street of a small four-way intersection while looking both ways. I realize now my mistake of not looking behind me while doing so.

The second I made it across, I glanced behind me and stopped dead in my tracks. On the opposite corner of the four way stop from me was the same smiling man. He had one arm wrapped around a light pole while the other hung loosely at his side. He was leaning forward, his arm barely keeping him from toppling over. He was facing me but still looking skyward, his devilish smile still wide on his lips. How did he get there so quickly? How did I not hear him? I knew that he moved fast in the story, but this was ridiculous. I was utterly petrified and stood there for some time, watching him as he stared off at the sky.

My mind wandered a bit while I stared him down. I recalled how in the story, he cartoonishly tiptoed towards the protagonist until stopping a car length away. I quivered over the thought of what happened after that scene. But you probably predicted that my experience didn’t match his. It was much worse.

I watched in a mix of utter disbelief and pure terror as he let go of the lamppost. And then he started moving toward me again. He took slow, graceful steps, dragging his feet across the ground with the backfoot shooting into the air, as if he was skating across the concrete. His arms swayed side to side as he did so. And then he stopped again, in the middle of the intersection. Still looking at the sky, still smiling.

At this point, some of you reading are yelling at me to simply make a break for it. But I couldn’t. I just stood there completely frozen. I once read that severe anxiety and fear could cause someone to literally freeze, unable to move even if they wanted to. That was what happened to me. I desperately wanted to flee and not stick around, but my body wouldn’t listen.

Similar to the protagonist, I found my voice. I decided to choose my words carefully to avoid an incoherent whimper escaping my mouth. I took a deep breath and asked him, “Who are you?” I stuttered as I said this. The fear in my own voice made me feel much more afraid. But the man didn’t respond nor move.

After about a minute of dead silence, I asked another question, “What the hell do you want?” My fear increased some more as I sounded like I was on the verge of tears. But he still didn’t react at all. He just stood there in the middle of the road, still smiling.

After what felt like forever, I had the urge to say something else. I will forever regret saying what I said at that moment. I told the man, “I’m not afraid of you.” The shaky tone in my voice didn’t sound convincing. I almost didn’t believe myself.

What happened next is what utterly destroyed me. It still haunts my dreams to this day, and I hope no one ever has to experience this kind of fear.

Almost a minute after speaking, the man’s head slowly tilted down. His head stopped and was perfectly upright, eyes staring directly at me. I watched in horror as his smiling face slowly morphed into one of absolute rage. His smile turned upside down, his teeth still visibly glowing in the moonlight. His eyes were still as wide as before, his eyebrows furrowing into a big frown.

This was enough to break my paralysis. He must have known I could move again as he lunged towards me. I ran as fast as I could down the street, tears streaming down my face. While running, I looked behind me and was horrified that the man was giving chase, anger still cemented on his face. I ducked into an alleyway and continued running. I ran out of that alleyway, on another side-street, and down another alley. I was hoping to lose him in the twists and turns, but I didn’t. He was too fast. And he was gaining on me.

I turned down one more alley and saw I was fast approaching a chain link fence. It was too late for me to slow down or turn back, so I leapt off the ground and latched onto the fence. The fence shook as I scrambled up it as fast as I could. I pulled myself up onto the top, not looking back. I managed to throw my right leg over when suddenly, a hand grabbed my left leg.

I was too scared to turn and face him as he tried pulling me down. I resisted his efforts, but he was proving to be very strong. During the tug of war, I felt an incredible sensation of agonizing pain erupt from my leg. The sudden pain gave the pump of adrenaline I needed to tug with all the strength I could muster. The man’s grip on my leg released and I let myself fall to the ground on the other side of the fence. My right ankle exploded in a fiery pain.

I pulled myself up to my feet, struggling to keep balance due to my injuries. I turned towards the fence and saw him. He was standing there; his face having returned to the initial smile. His head was still upright, staring me down through the holes of the fence. After what felt like forever, he tilted his head up to the sky again. He turned around, very slowly, and began dance-walking away. Just like that.

I bought a gun and signed up for firearm training. I fear the smiling man will come back for me. If it is switching cities, looking for victims, I want to be ready if he decides to settle an old score. The author motivated me to write this story to you now. To warn you that the smiling man is still out there. Although I can barely call him a man. Monster or devil seems more fitting. I hope to God none of you stumble upon him. So, I'm begging you. Don’t go out into the city in the dead of night. You may never know what monster lurks in the darkness...

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