To be honest, I don't know why I'm writing this. Maybe it's human nature to want to be remembered. Maybe after seeing the legions of those things, I want to retain the last shred of individuality I have. I don't know. I don't care anymore.

Okay, I'll start from the beginning.

My name's John, and I'm a Seeker. Well, not exactly a Seeker, I guess; I've never gotten a Object. Sure, I've tried once or twice - I went for Syzygy a year ago, but chickened out at the last minute. I almost went for the Beginning about a month or so ago, but that time, it wasn't because I was scared that I didn't go through with it.

As I was talking to the receptionist, I noticed this... thing. I'm still not really sure what it was. It was sort of out of the corner of my eye, and the way it moved, the way it looked... it seemed like it wasn't properly situated in reality itself. It just had this black cloak sort of thing that would rustle and move even though the AC in the nuthouse was broken. Its hood covered its face, although I'm not really sure it even had a face. No one seemed to notice it but me, so I figured it was just some kind of stress-induced hallucinations, like you read about in Newsweek or what have you. I would be about to ask the receptionist to see the Holder, and then I'd turn around and glance at the cloaked thing again. I kept doing that over and over again, and suddenly I started to feel... old. Like my legs were suddenly not able to support me. I sort of collapsed right at the desk, and the receptionist gave me this look. It wasn't a wierded-out look, it was more like she understood what was happening. Like she'd seen it before and it didn't faze her. It scared the hell out of me.

I managed to get back up and I shambled outside, in a sort of half-run, half-crawl. As I got farther away from the institution, I started to feel better, and I felt normal again by the time I got to my car. I put the key in the ignition, threw it into gear, and sped down the highway like the devil himself was after me. Obviously, he wasn't. Whatever that being was in the institution, it was worse.

I started seeing them about a week later. I think I was on the train, on the way to work. About 20 minutes into the ride, I looked down at my wrist and realized that I'd forgotten my watch. I was almost late for work as it was, so I asked the guy next to me for the time. I remember his head turning around really slowly, like he was a robot or something. He didn't say anything, which I thought was strange, but then I saw his eyes. And by "eyes", I mean "the place where his eyes should have been". All I saw were two empty sockets, staring, if you could say that, right back at me with this horrifying vacant look. Needless to say, I freaked out, jumping out of my seat and falling against the door. The thing must have been related to whatever creature I saw in the institution, I realized in a flash, and I realized that I was gibbering inarticulately, not really even sure what I was trying to say. I figured that the passengers would quickly figure out what I was pointing at, the monster that was sitting next to me with the ghastly empty eye sockets and skin so gray that it reminded me of the dead body I once saw when I was a kid. But no, the passengers didn't recoil in horror. They fixed me with a look of contempt mixed with revulsion and shock. That's when I realized something that scared me even more than the ghoul.

None of them could see it.

Wordlessly, I got off at the next stop, and ran straight home. Being late for work didn't even register in my mind. I locked myself in and didn't come out of my apartment for two days.

After I'd managed to assuage my fears, I went back outside to continue my life. And it did continue. Wake up, commute to work, research the Objects, commute home, sleep. It continued like that. But then, soon, I started to see them again.

I walked into Starbucks and ordered a couple shots of espresso like I usually do. I grabbed my two dollars and placed it on the table, not paying attention to my surroundings. The cashier took the money, and that's when I saw his hand - his gray, dead hand. Gray as a corpse I once saw as a kid. With horrifying anticipation, my eyes followed up the arm, up to the neck, until finally, I looked up at the two empty eye sockets staring emotionlessly at me. I backed away slowly, bumping the table behind me. The man sitting there looked up at me from the newspaper he was reading. Well, I guess you have to have eyes to read. Both of them just stared at me with both their sets of grotesque, empty eye sockets. I ran.

I've been seeing them everywhere now. Walking across the street. Driving cars, the holes in their faces where their eyes should be focused intently on me. They're all watching me. Once, I turned on the news to find the weatherman staring intently with those dead, empty eye sockets, not saying a word. They're everywhere. They're all around.

And now, this. About an hour ago, one knocked at my door. A couple minutes later, another one came up the elevator and stood behind the first one. They were followed by more. And more. And more. My whole floor is filled with dozens of these freaks, and the elevator keeps bringing more up. I looked out my window just a second ago: there's a gigantic crowd, hundreds, maybe thousands of them surrounding the building. More of them keep coming, and the mass of ghouls keeps getting bigger. Now my floor's so full that the sheer volume of them is making the walls strain. I can't keep them out. Even if I could escape from this building, where would I go? Maybe it would be better to go outside. Anything would be better than the hordes of slack faces and empty eye sockets I see staring at me every time I look out the window. I want it to end. I want it to be over.

One of them just knocked again.

I guess I'll answer the door.