Black Arab

Author's note: I tried to make this story rather "realistic" with a kinda realistic "monster", so don't expect any mary-sue self inserts.

I was an 80's kid. Those years were some of the best years of my life. Saturday morning cartoons, amazing toys, lots of fun with my friends. But today I'll tell you another story from my childhood, the only one that is different from my usual happy times spent with other kids or my army of action figures. It's a very different one, and I don't want to talk about it, but I think it's finally time to do so. First, let me introduce my childhood friends to get more context.

First off there was Mark, gamer of our group. Proud owner of NES, he was unbeatable in almost any game, even the bootleg ones in cheap, gold cartrtidges we sometimes bought at the flea market that nobody cared about. That's pretty much his characteristics, as far as I can tell.

Next off was Troy. He was a highly-functioning autistic. While I was the "cool kid", he was the more silent, odd-ball type. Im not shure if it was due to his autism, or not. For example, while our playtime with action figures such as Star Wars or G.I. Joe mainly focused on action, he usually would play those weird silent scenes in the meantime, such as meetings of various leaders talking about something, or other similiar stuff. This, combined with his tendency to be rather quiet and behave like he doesn't see the world around him made him a frequent laughing stock for other kids. I still remember one odd thing with him. When we were watching the Ewoks cartoon on VHS, there was a scene in which a sorceress that kind of resembled an anthropomorphic cat got trapped in a room and started crying for help. Troy then stopped the tape, crawled up to the TV and actually touched the screen with his finger in the place the sorceress' head was, and proceeded to move it slightly up and down in a rubbing manner, much like he was stroking her hair, and then unstopped the tape. Now that I look at it, it was kind of creepy. Yup, he was one of those kids that thought fictional characters are "real", at least on some plain of existence, especially the ones he liked which included the Ewoks sorceress.

Last, but far from least, was Mitch. He was the brawns of our group. If not for the fact that he was our friend, he could have made a career as a school bully. Older than me, Troy and Mark, far stronger and always walking everywhere with a rock band T-Shirt, he was the playground menace and we were lucky to have him on our side.

Now that you know about my three buds from childhood, it's time for the story.

It was a typical summer day, we were playing in my back yard. It was a grand battle we have planned for days. While we were setting up our toy troops, Mitch was watching over us from a sunbed, drinking some cola. Soon enough the fight has begun, and hordes of mixed up He-Man figures, G.I. Joes, Stormtroopers and various other assorted army men started a battle that would put both World Wars to shame. Now that im remembering those times, I have to say one thing to people that never made massive toy battles as kids - no strategic game or board game will ever replicate it, when we were all kids it really felt like we were in command. We were the Gods of Fate for those tiny plastic men.

Once the battle was over, and of course Mark - having the most toys - won. We have noticed rain clouds swirling in the distance, just over the forest. Mitch told us to go home, but Troy ensisted on getting some candy from store first, for Mark to buy us as "war reparations". Yup, he was really into politics while playing toy wars. Mark agreed, and we four quickly rushed to the candy store. On our way back, we have decided to take a shortcut right to my house, as the rain clouds were getting closer and closer. Like idiots we were, all four of us entered a dark alley filled with garages, broken tires and run-down houses, some of which looked like their owners marinate in their own filth. One house especially. It's gutters were filled with muck, paint on walls was peeling off revealing bricks underneath. Lawn was completely overgrown, and windows cracked in several places. Overall the thing looked like a ruin untouched for a couple of years.

It was then, that Mitch suggested the stupid idea to enter the house. Im not shure what he thought back then, but now looking back at it, I think he was trying to up his tough-guy persona. Being fueled with childhood curiosity, we made a mistake of knocking on the door. The wood was moist and spongy in touch, almost feeling like it would break apart with just one touch. It started raining, hence we just rushed inside. It was cluttered with loads of junk, such as old papers, cardboard boxes and other pieces of garbage, most of which was laying in puddles of water on the ground. The inside smelled horrendously, similiar to the smell of a toilet filled with feces, trust me. Im not even exaggregating.

Mitch wanted to go further into the house, but we got too scared of it, telling him to go himself, and then tell us what it's there. Looking back at it again, it was a stupid idea to spread out, but he agreed to do so. Few minutes have passed, as we could hear him moving around the various rooms, until finally we heard the footsteps stop, only to then be followed by a scream, and Mitch came back to our room, dashing through the junk, jumping over it like a chased animal. He was terrified, panting and pointing at one of the doors. Soon enough we found out why, as something white came out of the doorframe he rushed out of from. It resembled a man, but was very skinny. The creature looked like all it's muscles just withered away, with thin, lanky arms that almost reached its feet and skeletal legs that ended in clubbed, deformed feet with ingrown, black nails. It's skin had and eerie pallor that contrasted against the darkness to the point of it resembling an albino human, and gave off a disgusting sheen, like it was greasy or covered in water, and reeked like body odor. Hair looked sticky, and was sprinkled with dandruff. When the thing opened up it's mouth, we could see that his teeth were yellowing, and had large cavities in them, especiall back molars which seemed to be literally rotten.

It screeched at us in some strange language. I don't know what language it was, but it resembled hebrew, or arabian. We started screaming and rushed outside. Once we reached my house, I instantly ran upstairs to lock myself and my friends in the room, just in case. My mother of course started flipping out at me for doing so, as I have covered the carpets and stairs in mud, and presumably damaged the door by slamming it shut so rapidly. Mitch looked out my window, and proceeded to then cover it with curtains, panting even heavier. Troy however ignored it, and after looking behind them, he said that the thing is on the street. Gathering up enough courage, I also looked behind the curtains, onto the streets. They weren't lying. White creature really was wandering on the sidewalk on the opposite side, it didn't move like a human, more like a chimpanzee or a gorilla. I have also noticed that it's movement were unnatural, similiar to that of a scared animal, I couldn't look at it for a long time however, as it quickly disappeared behind a fence, never to be seen again.

We have outgrown this story. Mark became a programist, Troy started to draw stuff on internet, while Mitch now lives with his parents, giving up on trying to find any work. I chatted with them on Facebook a couple of times, and they almost completely forgot about this...thing. The creature was never spotted by anyone except us, and no trace of it remains. Looking up various similiar stuff gave us nothing. Mark even tried to return to the place and the house, this time with a small firearm with him, but found nothing inside. The creature was nowhere to be seen, after Mark has returned however, he told us just one thing.

"It's human."

Then, he told us what he found in the house. Under the piles of garbage lied various war papers such as journals, old documents and code books. The cellar had some vintage firearms in it, they have however crumbled into dust upon touching them. From the pictures he gave us, we could easily tell they were clearly from World War I period, and if not for their state, we'd propably take them to a local museum. This sparked an idea in my head, as I started asking people around the town about any veterans of war, or the war itself, and yes. They have told me a rather interesting story. After the Great War, there were rumours of an Ottoman soldier that fought alongside British against his collegues, who after the war has ended decided to live in USA. Due to shell shock and overall trauma, people believed that he went insane and turned into a hoarder that never left his house, presumably dying there. Locals have named him the "Black Arab", but over time they have forgot about him.

So what happened to that Ottoman? God only knows. Whenever he is, I never, and I repeat - NEVER will go into that house ever again.