Faz Jeuz

I wish you a good day.

My name is Sven. I am a normal 17 year old boy, living in Germany in a suburb of Düsseldorf; and I like to share an experience of mine.

I assure you, that the following is clear without ambiguity. I do not lie or make things up. Everything I am about to tell you is something I have just experienced. I know that it is chlichéd to begin a story like this, but you can easily trust me by the fact that nothing is hyperbolic, ridiculous or completely nonsensical; at least in my opinion. You will maybe understand in the end. All I can say is that it is just something that happened to me. Something I still don't grasp; and I feel the urge to express myself.

I felt dizzy when I opened my eyes once, finding myself in a place easily described as badlands or a savanna, the sun about to vanish behind the horizon, illuminating the sky in a lucid gamboge. I just stood there, surrounded by nothing more than dry shrubberies and a gentle, dusty wind. The place was desolate, but the aureate sand that trickled everywhere.

I turned around and spotted the only thing not happening to be found in nature. It was a wooden column, commonly associated with palisades or fences, just sticking out of the ground, maybe 2 to 3 meters high. It could have been a cross or something in between as well. I am not sure, nor does it matter I suppose.

I walked towards it, not for any particular reason. Call it unhealthy curiosity, but what else what I was supposed to do? What I found was not only the column, but a sign standing in front of it or being attached to it. There was something written on it with what I assumed was red paint, but I could not be sure. All I knew was, that the color already dried a long time ago. The sigh said 'Faz Juez'. Or maybe it was 'Fak Quez', or 'Fuak Chez'? Maybe it wasn't even a language and just symbols, like runes or comparable things.

You probably already grasped that my memories aren't very specific and uncertain about details at times. I apologize, but I try to remember as good as I can. The mind is trying to block the things it cannot endure I suppose. Ignorance is bliss.

I remember staring at it for a short time, wondering what it could mean. I can only speak German and English with a bit of French, but I have never seen or heard these words before. My vision suddenly shifted to jet-black for just a blink of an eye, but when I could see again, I witnessed the most gruesome thing a being had to endure.

Bound to that column with tight ropes was a person, probably white with a slight tan, middle-aged and as far as I can remember, masculine. My vision was decreased by a strong, dusty wind, but I could see a glow climbing up the mans body. It were blazes, consuming his body and his clothes, though I think he was naked. Instead of screaming, he had his head lifted to the right, staring down at me with a wide opened mouth and opened eyes that would never blink. His expression was filled with agony and bottomless hatred. He just kept on staring at me, and I starred back.

My vision flashed inconceivable fast, each time seemingly coming closer to the burning man, or he came closer to me, just before his face filled my entire line of sight and I passed out.

What felt like instantaneous, I woke up, once again standing stiff in an apparently desolate place. This time, it was night. The darkest night I have ever witnessed. No stars, no bulbs glowing in buildings. Just the empty darkness at dead of night.

I was not in the badlands anymore, as I could feel a soft humidity on my pair of socks. I was standing in a field of grass, wet from dew or a rainfall. I remember it being cold, but not to the point where I would freeze. More like a gentle breeze I tend to enjoy.

I sauntered through the field, once again not knowing where I possibly was. I felt uneasy, but I was not in total fear. Whatever happened in the savanna was not on my mind, like my brain blocked it out. All I wanted was to go home and rest.

At the edge to a forest, I found a little shed out of rusty metal and other materials. It had no walls and was merely a shelter to hide from rain, with only a chock block beneath the metallic roof. I stood before it and closed my eyes, and just as I did, this thing flashed through my inner eyes. This sign, burning and rotting away. 'Faz Juez' or whatever it was, written in crimson.

As I quickly opened my eyes, the image was gone and I was once again just standing in front of the shelter, like nothing had happened. I intended to take shelter and maybe, I would have been able to sleep on the patch of dry ground covered by the shelter. Or at the very least I could sit down for a few moments without my clothes being soaked completely. But something made me stop.

I looked up and saw that on the shelter, there was a figure, entirely black, observing me. No; not just observing. It starred right at me with the same way the poor man did. It's eyes had a faint, sanguineous glow in them, like little rubies placed on top of the eyeballs. I think it was a cat, but it could have been a raven, too. I could not tell in the almost complete darkness. All I knew was, that I felt inner trepidation when I gazed back at it.

I walked away, backwards, continuing to stare at the being's eyes. I think it smirked. The farther I went away from it, the more apparent a noise became louder or closer, drowning out everything else. Have you ever heard a person screaming while his voice is drowned, like being underwater; slightly echoing and sounding synthetic? It was just that which followed me.

I turned around and ran. Ran as fast as my legs could carry me. But the longer I ran away from it, the closer and louder the noise came. Just as I took a single breath, the man, bound to the column, appeared directly in front of me. My vision flashed between the shield and the suffering man, screaming loudly and starring down at me with hatred, as his flesh began to decay and vaporized into ashes, consuming me along with him.

I woke up in my bed; not bursting out in tears or jumping because of fear, but with my eyes closed, resting tightly under my thick, warm blanket. I felt someone stroking me gently and embracing me carefully. It was 7 A.M I thought to myself. You must know, my father and I share a special bond, as my mother ran away when I was not even 2 years old and he took care of me. Even though he is an obstinate donkey, I love with and thankfully enjoy being waken up every morning by him for school; and not by the alarm clock.

He gently stroke my neck and I sighed happily, believing that everything was just a nightmare and that it was over. As he gently stroke my cheek, he whispered something to me. Maybe it was “I love you” or “Everything is fine” or something in that matter. I can't quite remember, as it was slurred, something I am always complaining about my father when he tries to talk with me.

But at that moment, it did not matter. I heard his gentle voice and it calmed me down. I gently stroke his chest with my right arm, feeling the soft texture of his shirt. I smiled and sprawled for a few seconds, but in the end, I did not move much.

Then I opened my eyes to embrace him, but all there was, was the darkness of my room. Even my alarm clock said that it was only 5:48, a time where even my father was not awake. I felt a sharp pain in my chest. Not physical, but emotional, like something snapped inside of me and my anxiety got drowned under confusion and ignorance.

I was stunned, unable to think or act. Quickly, with my consciousness only being very weak like being close to pass out, because of short of sleep, I presses my hand against the pillow and fell asleep very fast, without any thoughts on my mind.

The next time I woke up, it was as usual, just as I explained. Greeted by my dad who kindly put on my television, I got up and stretched myself. I lived my live normally up to this point. Nothing ordinary happened and school was as boring as ever.

But now, 10 hours later, I cannot stop thinking about what happened to me that night. My thoughts keep flashing up to that doomed person, dying a terrible death, gazing at me with utter rancor. The words 'Faz Juez' keep on bewildering me, like an earworm.

I looked the words up and even though they may not even be the exact words which stood on the sign, they were not without meaning. 'Faz' means 'aspect' or 'face' in Spanish; and 'Juez' means 'judge', once again a Spanish word. The faces of the judges? I have never spoken Spanish before and only know the most basic words like 'si' and 'no'. 'Faak' also references to a lake in Austria, but I do not see the connection.

I am not even sure what these two words mean in combination with the burning person. Is it an insinuation to the Spanish Inquisition or the Witch-hunt, in which judges convicted people because of drudging reasons like witchcraft and religion; arbitrarily killing and torturing with utter hatred and callousness towards so many innocent people? Maybe, as I am constantly faced with the atrocities mankind does to itself, because of the media, but considering I have never directly dealt with these things and that my memories are so intermittent, your guess is probably as good as mine.

But there is still this angst-inducing last part of my experience. I vow on my life and my strong morals, that I could undoubtedly feel something warm and gentle stroking me; and I especially could feel my hand being pressed again a soft texture that did not give in, like a blanket or a pillow would, not to forget 'it' speaking to me and me replying somewhat by sighing happily

I do not understand what it was. An entity that caused my nightmares in an attempt to scare me or to show me the agony of the people of that time to disturb me? To show me how incompetent and sporadic our system of justice very is; or how gruesome it is in other countries? But it seemingly had no connection with my nightmare. Was it a situation so common for me that I did not recognize it as a lucid dream? Was it my mind playing tricks on me? I don't know. This is what frightens me.

I don't believe in ghosts or supernatural beings. I can't defy them entirely, like no one can absolutely defy god, but as a strong atheist, I stick to science, reason and common sense. I enjoy Creepypastas very much, but feeling like I myself am inside one is not very pleasant.

I can probably assume that not many people out there are going to believe me. After all, Creepypastas are tales to be told, fictional, but the one or the other creepy theory like MK Ultra, which was indeed an incident happening in America after World War 2. But where else should I go to tell you this perturbing story?

I have no explanation, but maybe you have. Hints, ideas, something that links somewhat to my events, like names or locations. Everything you have is of great value to ease my mind.

I don't fear ghosts or demons, but I fear not knowing. I said that ignorance is a bliss. But no. It is the biggest fear of them all; not knowing if something is or is not. That is why Creepypastas can be so creepy. And it is the uncertainty's creepiness that is haunting me.

Please... help me. I just want an answer... I just want to understand.