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Description
"Some people look at this and are scared." "Huh?" I looked over in the direction of the voice. An old man dressed in a gray trenchcoat and a dark green beret was leaning against a newspaper box with a book open on top of it. "Some people look at this and are scared." He repeated. "Come here." Intrigued I went over to him, he seemed relatively harmless after all. The book in front of him was open to a print of Van Gogh's Starry Night. Once again he said "People look at this and are scared." "Why?" I asked as I glanced down at the painting. "Why." The strange man replied, more of a statement than a question. "What is it?" He asked me. "It's a Van Gogh" I replied. His gray eyes stared into mine. "Is that all." He said once again a statement, perhaps even a challenge. Amused, I said, "Tell me what you see." "Look!" He shouted, "See for your self!"

I looked more carefully at the painting. The heaven's swirled about as if caught in some great vortex being drawn into a darker realm beyond the time and space. Eleven stars and the moon looked down amid this chaos to a fairy tale landscape. Like silent watchers, elder gods, from beyond the oceans of time and space they passed judgment upon the tiny human settlement. A fantastic mountain shaped like a writhing mass of tentacles towered over the village and reached grasping upwards to the stars. I shuddered, and tore my eyes away from the painting. Unnerved, I quickly turned and walked away.

I few minutes later I realized that something was somehow... different. Like that feeling you get at the back of your head when you feel like someone, or something is watching you. I began to notice things, little things at first. The way certain people looked at me as I walked by. They looked as if they knew something, some secret, some private joke, involving me that I was yet unaware of. As the days passed, the strange feeling remained and intensified.

At night it was the worst, especially on those lonely deserted streets, where the only sounds you hear are your own foot-falls echoing on the bricks. My paranoia heightened. Formless watchers seemed to seep in and out of the shadows in dark alleyways as I walked passed. No matter which route I chose they seemed to always remain one step ahead. Then I began to actually see them. Well, it was more of a feeling than actually seeing them. Like catching something out of the corner of your eye. The same way as the eye concentrates moonlight in the corners causing you to glimpse things you can never quite see head on. I would catch scattered impressions of bipedal creatures with angular features, yet strangely octopoid as well. As weeks progressed I would see more and more of these strange creatures. Some had wings and sometimes I would catch brief glimpses of them floating silhouetted against the starry night sky.

Soon I was even seeing them in daylight as they glided about our world. In better light the creatures appeared as slightly translucent with mouths wreathed in tentacles and dark black eyes like caverns yawning into infinity. It was amusing to watch them slink about through everyday life unseen by others only occasionally experienced as a brief shiver as someone would brush against or accidentally pass through these strange creatures. Now I know why some people look at that painting and are afraid. It is because they see what I see.

Description
"Some people look at this and are scared." "Huh?" I looked over in the direction of the voice. An old man dressed in a gray trenchcoat and a dark green beret was leaning against a newspaper box with a book open on top of it. "Some people look at this and are scared." He repeated. "Come here." Intrigued I went over to him, he seemed relatively harmless after all. The book in front of him was open to a print of Van Gogh's Starry Night. Once again he said "People look at this and are scared." "Why?" I asked as I glanced down at the painting. "Why." The strange man replied, more of a statement than a question. "What is it?" He asked me. "It's a Van Gogh" I replied. His gray eyes stared into mine. "Is that all." He said once again a statement, perhaps even a challenge. Amused, I said, "Tell me what you see." "Look!" He shouted, "See for your self!"

I looked more carefully at the painting. The heaven's swirled about as if caught in some great vortex being drawn into a darker realm beyond the time and space. Eleven stars and the moon looked down amid this chaos to a fairy tale landscape. Like silent watchers, elder gods, from beyond the oceans of time and space they passed judgment upon the tiny human settlement. A fantastic mountain shaped like a writhing mass of tentacles towered over the village and reached grasping upwards to the stars. I shuddered, and tore my eyes away from the painting. Unnerved, I quickly turned and walked away.

I few minutes later I realized that something was somehow... different. Like that feeling you get at the back of your head when you feel like someone, or something is watching you. I began to notice things, little things at first. The way certain people looked at me as I walked by. They looked as if they knew something, some secret, some private joke, involving me that I was yet unaware of. As the days passed, the strange feeling remained and intensified.

At night it was the worst, especially on those lonely deserted streets, where the only sounds you hear are your own foot-falls echoing on the bricks. My paranoia heightened. Formless watchers seemed to seep in and out of the shadows in dark alleyways as I walked passed. No matter which route I chose they seemed to always remain one step ahead. Then I began to actually see them. Well, it was more of a feeling than actually seeing them. Like catching something out of the corner of your eye. The same way as the eye concentrates moonlight in the corners causing you to glimpse things you can never quite see head on. I would catch scattered impressions of bipedal creatures with angular features, yet strangely octopoid as well. As weeks progressed I would see more and more of these strange creatures. Some had wings and sometimes I would catch brief glimpses of them floating silhouetted against the starry night sky.

Soon I was even seeing them in daylight as they glided about our world. In better light the creatures appeared as slightly translucent with mouths wreathed in tentacles and dark black eyes like caverns yawning into infinity. It was amusing to watch them slink about through everyday life unseen by others only occasionally experienced as a brief shiver as someone would brush against or accidentally pass through these strange creatures. Now I know why some people look at that painting and are afraid. It is because they see what I see.